Since 1993, Don and Betty Lou Vogel's personal mission has been to bring bread to people who could use it, whether as a pick-me-up or a celebration of a life event, and, Betty Lou says, they've never lost that original sourdough starter.
"You can't ignore it," she says as she slides a Tupperware container out of her home refrigerator. She pops the lid off and tucked inside is a glob of grayish-beige goo, full of bubbles. It slides slowly from one end of the container to the other as she turns it, and she pops it back into the refrigerator before it gets too warm.
"If it gets too big, it dies," she adds as she closes the door.
Sourdough bread doesn't have yeast in it, she adds. It's just the starter, some flour, sugar and potato flakes, with a few other ingredients.
They use corn oil rather than any other kind of vegetable oil, she adds. It's lighter than olive oil, and she says the flavor turns out the best of any other oil she's tried.
Each week, they make at least four loaves of bread, and usually a pan or two of cinnamon rolls using the sourdough bread as the base.
It adds up to a lot of flour, she says.
There's a 25-pound bag of enriched bleached flour propped against her pantry wall, and they do go through it, she says.
It's a process, from mixing ingredients into the starter to fill out mixing bowls, which then have to rise and rest, be turned out into pans or rolled and cut and formed into cinnamon rolls, then the baking -- with two ovens, that part goes a little faster, Betty Lou says.
"Don's my sous chef for that part especially," she says, laughing.
They do this every week, she says, whether they have company or not. They make time for it.
It usually works out well for them, since they work as realtors, and after they host open houses on Sunday afternoons, they come home to add six and a half cups of flour to every cup of starter.
That mixture sits at room temperature for about six hours, she says, then the additional ingredients and mixing before dividing all of it into three or four mixing bowls.
Those sit overnight until Tuesday morning, covered by a flour sack towel inherited from Don's mother, and once the rising and turning out have happened, the baking can begin.
Each bowl yields two loaves or pans of cinnamon rolls, depending on which they're making, she adds.
While they're working on that, Don's cleaning the bowls and the mixer.
After the bread cools, the loaves and buns go into clear bags Betty Lou purchases, again, in bulk -- about a thousand at a time, she says.
She likes to decorate each bag, make it special, she says, with a note about the bread tied on with colorful ribbon, decorated by a color-coordinated sticker.
"Today, it's blue butterflies," she says, but moving into fall, she'll use more autumn-themed decorations.
The label has remained the same through the years, Betty Lou says: BETTY LOU'S SOURDOUGH BREAD -- "The Staff of Life Brings Friends Together."
Bread's biblical meaning is a function of a social bond, Betty Lou says, and she likes to think the bread is a blessing to whoever receives it.
Her plastic wrap container started out with 3,000 square feet, and, she says as she pulls out a length and expertly snaps it off, then taps and crunches it into place over a pan of cinnamon rolls, "it lasts a long time."
This wouldn't be possible for her to do by herself, Betty Lou says as Don helps cover and close each pan and loaf.
If the icing sits out too long, it could get too stiff, she says.
"It's how we stay so trim, is by giving it away," Don says as he moves down the line.
Reflecting on the years they've done this, Don says, in the 23 years they've been making a batch of bread each week, they've made and given away at least 6,000 loaves.
Their partnership isn't just about the bread, or their real estate dealings, Betty Lou says. They've actually known each other since she was 2 years old and moved next door to Don's family's grocery store in Cape Girardeau. Both of them were only children, and they remained friends until the year they each married and left town, until fate brought them both back to Cape Girardeau in 1993, when they met again and married six months later.
That same year, Betty Lou received that first sourdough starter from a lady at the senior center, she says, and with each loaf they've given out since, they've added to a mailing list.
"There have been many cards mailed since 1993 to those on our mailing list," she says.
Betty Lou says they tend to give loaves to people who are recuperating in some way, shape or form, anything from recovering from the loss of a loved one or from undergoing cancer treatments.
People who can't eat anything else often can eat the bread, maybe with a smear of real butter across it, she says.
"It feels good to share," she says.
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