Hidden Treat/ David Erdos/ College Essay

Hidden Treat

David Erdos

My grandfather always said, “life is what you bake of it,” although I never fully comprehended the depth of this quote until I embarked on my culinary journey. My efforts in the kitchen began when I was seven, chopping vegetables or stirring soup. By twelve, I was experimenting with baking, inspired by my mom’s airy breads and velvety cakes. Soon, not only was I able to produce the same cakes as my family, I was expanding into more complicated endeavors. At that point, it wasn’t uncommon to stay up all night, attending to the countless cycles of kneading-and-rising required to make fresh baguettes or sourdough.

I learned early on that baking connects me to my living family, but did not realize that it also connects me to the past. One afternoon, while visiting my grandmother, I began leafing through an old cookbook. I noticed that one page was folded over, and when I asked her about it she explained that this recipe was my grandfather’s favorite bread to bake. He hadn’t made it, and she hadn’t even thought about it, in over a decade. I immediately asked if we could bake it – the bread looked interesting, but more significantly, I sensed my grandmother’s excitement at the thought of bringing Pa’s favorite bread back into existence. As the fluffy dough rested in our palms, I watched my grandmother travel back in time. Not only did the mouthwatering aroma of fresh bread waft throughout the kitchen, but in baking with me, her grandson, my grandmother gained a sense of connection and satisfaction that my grandfather’s spirit was somehow alive again.

Baking not only impacts my relationship with family and tradition, but it also elucidates the nuances of chemistry. As a passionate student, I always felt a connection between the classroom and the kitchen, but it wasn't until I was introduced to the world of chemistry that I realized how within seemingly uncomplicated tasks are complex chemical reactions. Although it may appear that simply throwing a few ingredients together results in a loaf of bread, the process is much more intricate than meets the eye. As I watch my bread rise, and ponder upon the yeast organisms consuming sugar and expelling carbon dioxide gas, I feel as if my lab coat and apron are one and the same.

When I first learned to bake, I had no secondary goals in mind: I learned to bake for the sake of baking. Because of that decision, however, I was not only gifted a precious and priceless opportunity with my grandmother, I was able to connect with my family on a deeper level, melding both past and present. My grandfather, the baker - a chemist in the untraditional sense - passed away when I was five. However, by baking, I am preserving the sense of continuity and familial roots, extending this love of amalgamation to my posterity, while simultaneously learning a way of experimenting and understanding that I hope will impact the modern scientific world.