Grandma (Clara) Hahn’s Bread
4 cakes compressed yeast
Almost a century separates us
and yet time compresses –
you are here with me
in my kitchen.
1 cup lukewarm water
I cup my hands around the story
that you once held infant me.
6 tablespoons sugar
It would have sweetened our lives
had the car wreck not happened –
my father anchored by family
my mother loved as a daughter
we children connected to ancestors
1 qt. skimmed milk
but all those possibilities were skimmed away
like the thick, rich cream
that rises to the top of the morning milking
brought straight to the kitchen from the barn.
4 tablespoons shortening
I made your bread once for Dad,
attempting to shorten the distance
that had formed between us.
It was good, he said, but
about 14 ¼ cups Mother’s Best
not the same as yours.
7 ½ teaspoons salt
It’s not the same as yours,
but this three-rise half-day project
is as close as I’ll ever get
to the flavor of your love,
Grandma Hahn.
© Mary Lee Hahn, 2025
Molly challenged the Inklings to write Hermit Crab poems this month. Think of the form as a poem that climbs into the shell of another kind of writing. A little bit mind-bending at first, but if you find the right “shell,” you’ll be off and writing.
As for the recipe, yes, this is bread I bake every few weeks. I can’t remember the last time we bought bread in a store. And no, I do not bake in that volume! I cut the recipe in half and make two loaves. I use granular yeast, Snowville Creamery whole milk to come close to “skimmed” milk, and I’ve never been able to find Mother’s Best flour, so I make do with King Arthur.
I can’t wait to see what the others came up with this month! Thanks for the great challenge, Molly! Yes, I do realize that this is the second Inkling challenge in a row that has resulted in a bread poem. No, I’m not going for a trifecta, though you just never know…
Here’s what the rest of the Inklings came up with, if life gave them the elbow room this month to write:
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Margaret @Reflections on the Teche
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Margaret has the Poetry Friday roundup this week at Reflections on the Teche and this post does double-duty as a Slice of Life post.
A(nother) Year of Reading 
Oh – since I’m writing food poems this month – you bread poem stood out to me. I love this format and I can smell that bread. Thanks for the inspiration – I can feel a bread poem rising in me (pun intended)!
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Thanks Mary Lee for your robust and rich recipe-poem, that holds a delicious texture in between the lines and heartfelt ending. I look forward to trying this poem form out!
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A bittersweet recipe, the car wreck a gut punch. I’d admire that you make your own bread. I think I want to try another hermit crab poem. Such an interesting approach.
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oh my, I am in admiration of your unique and original structure and lovely poem. The way the undercurrent matches the recipe items is a wonderful device. I feel it most strongly in the gut punch of the sugar verse, continued in the milk, shortening, and flour (of course, ‘Mother’s Best’) verses. So, beautifully crafted, and finally, such a poignant message, of trying to give your father a gift of connection to grandmother you were never able to know.
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A poem combining such a unique form so well used to”stir” strong feelings. Such a good poem… it should be published in an anthology.
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LOVE your recipe poem! Such heartfelt memories, happy and sad, perfectly blended. What a wonderful tradition of continuing to bake your grandmother’s bread (looks yummy!). Adopt me, please.
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Mnmmm, I can just smell that yeasty loaf! I love that the brand of flour your grandmother used was “Mother’s Best.” Your poem is a charming tribute. I was caught off guard by the tragic car wreck. : (
Wonderful that you still use her recipe. : )
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The format of this kind of poem is new to me. I really enjoyed reading it, and how the second part of each section really told a story. I appreciated the explanations you included after the poem. I envy those who make their own bread! Thank you for sharing.
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The interspersing of recipe and poetry works so well–thanks for sharing it!
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This poem is gorgeous! I love how each line of the recipe was mirrored in how you told the story of your grandmother’s bread. I’d never heard of hermit crab poetry before. Now I’m intrigued to try (though you’ve set a high bar!)
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This is a beautiful recipe. I’m in love with the verbs; compresses, cups, skimmed, shorten and of course, the whole idea of rising bread. Just incredible. This poem is a keeper. What a lovely way to spend time with your grandmother. Hats off to you for homemade bread on the regular!
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Nope, Slice of *Bread* post! This is so lovely, and homely, in a way…no poetic pyrotechnics, just the layering and yeasting of the family story between the ingredients, with the wholesome repetition of simple, nourishing words. Curious how you use your sweet, soft, white bread…
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It actually has a nice saltiness and a firm crust. It’s good for sandwiches, toast, eating warm from the oven…all the bread-y things.
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Oh, Mary Lee, what a beauty. That recipe, and the sweet commentary of the ages interspersed is perfect. So many generations included here. That “Mother’s Best” flour and the short line “…not the same as yours” is bittersweet. And the car accident, with the questions left for the reader, but known to you and Grandma Hahn and other family members. Thank you for the intimacy of us being able to witness it here. That seems like one big recipe.
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This warmed my heart and made me want to bake!
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Mary Lee, your poem gains its required gravitas from one essnetial word the bread recipe provides and you have skillfully expanded each target word and delivered the critical back story regarding your grandmother. Food and love are inextricably entwined and your poem has clearly demonstrated this. Such a clever amalgam of ideas.
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I love the way the story unfolds as part of the recipe. Nice work! Now I want a slice of that homemade bread.
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Your recipe poem is so creative, and I love how you used it to tell a story. The smell of bread baking in the oven is one of my favorites. I make a couple of loaves every other week. I don’t remember my grandmother or mother ever making homemade bread so I’m not sure where my love of bread making came from.
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Oh, my gosh, Mary Lee — it starts off as lovely nostalgia and then, as life often does, it throws a gutwrenching curve ball, and the whole thing is wrapped in love. Well done.
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I love this, a family story wrapped in a recipe. Such a good idea. Well done! And the bread looks terrific, too.
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