Professor Butter Beard and Stephen Sondheim
“Art isn’t easy.
Every minor detail
Is a major decision.
Have to keep thing in scale,
Have to hold to your vision.
A vision’s just a vision
If its only in your head.
If no one gets to see it,
It’s as good as dead.
It has to come to light!”
- “Sunday in the Park with George,” Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, 1984.
“There are giants in the sky.” That observation, so far, speaks the loudest of all the eulogies and expressions of personal thankyous pouring out into the universe since the unexpected and soul-pausing passing of Stephen Sondheim this week. I feel I must add my voice to the multitudes, thanking the genius for enriching, instructing and inspiring me on so many levels during this journey. His passion and brilliance have influenced my choices and growth daily, but to save all you readers, I feel confident narrowing down the list to three life-changing events.
1973: It was the day after Christmas, and I was gingerly leafing through my father’s album collection. I knew by heart every one of his Herb Alpert, Barbra Streisand and Firestone Christmas albums. But as I looked over, I saw him leaning back in his favorite den chair holding a new album, feet up, his eyes closed, and his head swaying while nearly covered with the gigantic headphones brought by Santa. He called me over and placed the headphones over my smaller head. My soul was transported as he raised the needle on his record player and restarted the opening quintet from “A Little Night Music.” Our smiles danced together and he watched my life change forever. Nearly four decades later, I sang that opening note as Mr. Lindquist in the Stone Church Players production. I have yet to experience such stage fright again, but I hit that note every time with the encouragement of my father’s smile.
1991: I was working as a pastry chef in Northampton, Massachusetts and had finally reached a place on my journey where I was ready to come out to my restaurant coworkers and friends. My best friend John fully understood and encouraged me with a spontaneous road trip to Provincetown. We spent three days laughing and exploring the resort town off season. I didn’t want to leave, but John softened the return by telling me a story as we drove off the Cape towards the Berkshire Mountains. For over three hours, I was swept into the world of Sweeney Todd and the infamous Mrs. Lovett. John knew every set design and stage direction and each wacky character and conveyed them with such flare and energy. When I gave him a thank-you kiss and grabbed by backpack from the backseat of the car, I knew “nothing was going to harm me now.”
2012: Nick, Arnold and Jeff cast me as Jules in the NENA production of “Sunday in the Park with George.” Nothing had prepared me for the every evening explosion of joy as we closed Act One bringing one of my favorite paintings ever to life onstage. In a full nineteenth century tuxedo with top hat and cane, I moved into position, standing next to Jessica as Dot as the auditorium absorbed the growing harmonic heaven of “Sunday.” I watched my friends Marcy, Christine, Gabby, Michael and Carole all experience that same burst of enlightenment as that final chord shook our very beings. We closed that production on Sunday, October 29th, just as Hurricane Sandy made landfall on the coast of New Jersey. I calmed myself on the ride home on Ocean Avenue as the water started to rise over our car tires by reviewing the staging of “Gossip” in my mind – one of the roughest in the show. And praying to Buddha that Sandy would just “Move On.”
For me, bread is a foundation in baking. A blank page, or canvas, of flour, water and yeast. The challenge – bring order to the whole. My go-to bread for home, “Professor BB’s House Bread,” balances the basic structure with the addition of nut flour, citrus zest and a boost from my sourdough starter serendipitously named “Mrs. Lovett.” All dance together through design, composition, balance, light and harmony. Thank you, Mr. Sondheim. May your light shine perpetual in our souls and may children always listen.
Professor BB’s House Bread
Makes Two Large Loaves
3 cups warm water
2 Tbsp honey
4 tsp active dry yeast
½ cup Mrs. Lovett (Yes, my sourdough starter is named “Mrs. Lovett”)
6 ½ cup bread flour
½ cup hazelnut flour (I use Bob’s Red Mill)
1 Tbsp kosher salt
Zest of one orange (or 2 clementines when in season)
2 Tbsp oil for the rising bowl
1) Whisk the honey into the three cups warm water and then whisk in the dry yeast. Let the mixture sit for five minutes. Then whisk in your ½ cup of your sourdough starter. Let sit for another five minutes.
2) In a standing mixer, using the dough hook, mix together (on low) the two flours, the orange zest and the salt. Slowly pour in the yeasted mixture and let the mixer do its work for about 5 minutes. You will be tempted to add more flour – don’t.
3) Scrape the dough into an oiled (2 Tbsp oil) large bowl. Turn the dough so the entire surface is glistening with the oil. Cover with plastic wrap and let sit for about 45-60 minutes until the dough is doubled in size.
4) Punch down the dough. Cover again with plastic wrap and let rise until doubled again. This should take another 45 minutes.
5) Preheat your oven to 410 degrees.
6) Lightly oil two bread pans.
7) Punch down the dough and divide in half. Gently press each portion into a 7x12” rectangle and roll (using the short side at the top) into a loaf and then pinch the seams. Place each, seam side down, in the prepared pans. Dust the tops lightly with flour and cover with a clean kitchen towel until double again (about 30 minutes).
8) Remove the kitchen towel and dust the tops again with flour. Slash the top three times with a serrated knife. Place them in the oven and bake for 40 minutes. Remove from the oven, tip the loaves out of the pan and return the loaves to the oven for an additional five minutes.
9) Cool completely on wire racks.
HINT – When I place the loaves in the oven, I use the middle rack for the breads. On the lower rack, I place an 8” round cake pan filled with 5-6 ice cubes to keep the oven humid during the bake.
