Stefin authored this anchor piece for the blog What’s Our Plan, which is compiling an international, anthropological time capsule of people’s experiences with the COVID-19 quarantine. Of no surprise to Preheated listeners, she has a lot to say about how baking is getting her — and others– through the crisis.

I’ve just ordered a 16kg bag of flour. 

That’s the equivalent of 35 pounds, for my friends and family back in America. The kind you might see at a commercial bakery, stored in the window to herald their rustic credentials. And about 10 times the size of the bags I was able to purchase, without a thought, prior to the pandemic.

In the rush of panic buying in the early days of March, when a lockdown in London was imminent, much disappeared from my local grocery shelves — long-life milk, peanut butter, pasta, tea. But most disturbing to me were the empty shelves where flour used to march, like so many dusty soldiers. I thought, like the dried pasta once again available a few rows over, it was only a matter of time before flour would come back to greet me as I made my bi-weekly pilgrimage for essential supplies. Like many bakers worldwide, I’m still waiting.

To say home baking has seen a revival during our lockdown period would be an understatement. According to The Economist, Google searches for yeast (another hard-to-find ingredient) are up by 300% since early March. Related searches for brioche, flour, bread and baking are also skyrocketing. In the UK, at least, the mills have plenty of flour, but can’t get it into small packages fast enough to keep up with demand which has doubled since the quarantine started — from two to four million bags of flour per week. Worldwide, people are turning to baking to not only feed their families, but to soothe their souls.

In spite of the impact the shortage is having on me personally, my heart is overjoyed. 

As someone who celebrates home-baking via my weekly podcast, Preheated, I am a lifelong advocate of the teachings of home economics (or food tech as it’s called in the UK), which have sadly fallen out of favor, and off school curriculums, since I left high school nearly 25 years ago. So I greet every Instagram post of sourdough loaves and banana bread as the triumphant return to self-sufficiency they are. If there is a silver lining to be found amidst the chaos and destruction of this crisis, let it be this one: Being able to prepare food for yourself is nothing less than a fundamental life skill that impacts all others in our personal and larger communities — from physical and mental health to economics.

But baking is also fun, and soothing, and, ultimately, delicious. In a 2018 survey commissioned by British baking brand Dr Okter, two-thirds of respondents agreed that baking made them feel better, while 61% said sharing their creations with others made them happy. Baking is that rare hobby that is equal parts practical, creative, meditative and helps strengthen our social connections.

This is no surprise to myself or my podcast co-host, Andrea Ballard. We’ve been growing our virtual coffee klatch, Preheated, since November 2016. Our worldwide community of bakers, who range from children to septuagenarians, brand-new to professional bakers, have continuously proven our founding principle that food is our great connector. In our nearly four years of being on-air and online, we’ve seen firsthand that baking allows us to cross divides and share resources, cultures, languages, traditions, and, above all, a sense of community. 

Now more than ever, that may be baking’s greatest gift. Bakers love to share, and we still can. Favorite recipes are flying across social media at light speed. The food-sharing app Olio has redoubled its efforts to combat hunger by connecting neighbors in cities across the globe. (As of this writing, food was considered safe to share, but, of course, you should only share and accept what you are personally comfortable with.) Food banks are desperate for supplies. Here in England, The Trussell Trust supports food banks nationwide, and, on their website, you can see what the branch closest to you needs, as well as make a monetary donation that supports their larger efforts.

Closer to your own home, maybe you can offer a freshly baked loaf of bread to your older neighbor, or a batch of muffins to the single mother a few doors down. One of our listeners, though physically separated from her elderly father, coached him through making his first batch of homemade bread, at the age of 86. Sharing food is such a fundamental part of being human, a way to show your love that is somehow both basic and exceptional at the same time.

I’m luckier than most in so many ways, not the least of which, thanks to my livelihood, is my well-stocked pantry. Aside from a dwindling supply of white flour, I’ve got sugar and spices, eggs and butter enough to see me through the next several weeks. I have baked since I was nine years old, and am well-versed in substitutions and work-arounds. I will pass that knowledge on to help others, and undoubtedly, absorb others’ wisdom, as I have since I first put on an apron.

And as for that white flour? After weeks of being unable to source flour locally or online, I found myself pushing “buy” on an industrial-size bag last week, tipped off by a member of my podcast’s online community. It’s coming from a baking supply store in Surrey. Waiting for it to arrive, I feel like a kid counting down to Christmas Eve.

I’ve got two children with birthdays coming up during our lockdown period, and, as I do every year, I will make them each a cake, celebrating not only the ingredients that I am able to use, but the process that turns them into more than the sum of their parts. We will gather, as we always do, and enjoy something homemade and delicious, celebratory and traditional. I will parcel out quantities of my 16kg flour supply to neighbors, friends, and food banks, passing on my love of baking — and belief in its miraculous powers — with the humblest of offerings.

A fellow baker once told me that cooking is a necessity, but baking is a choice. In these uncertain times, I think it might be both.

Stefin Kohn is an American writer and editor based in London. An award-winning baker, she is the co-founder and co-host of the weekly Preheated baking podcast, recently recommended in the New York Times’ roundup of shows to discover during the lockdown.

If you’re interested in learning more about how others are coping with the COVID-19 crisis, join the conversation at whatsourplan.com.