Nathan Dakdouk, the 52-year-old in-house baker of Suzanne Goin's new Brentwood restaurant, is crying. Nothing is wrong in the bakery at Tavern, the newest restaurant for Goin and her partner Caroline Styne. There is no crisis that needs his attention--there are plenty of hours of baking and environmental variables that could change all that--but right now, the thing that has him so emotional, is his love of bread.

Nathan sticks his nose into the center of a golden round of multigrain bread and takes a deep breath. "When you smell a great bread it should smell of the earth," he says with soft Venezuelan accent. "It should smell like a big handful of beautiful earth."
 
Master Baking

Nathan is equal parts workhorse and artist. He is a shy man who prefers baking to pontificating. But get this Venezuelan baker talking about the magical, three thousand-year-old concept of bread and you'll see his green-brown eyes well up with passionate tears. He can't help himself. For Nathan, bread isn't just food; it's his life. Bread is his art.

Nathan has been honing his craft for almost his entire life. Before becoming Suzanne Goin's in-house bread artisan—they met by chance while he was working part time in his family's fabric store--he worked as a bakery consultant in Los Angeles for ten years and was the owner of a tiny Connecticut bakery. Before moving to America, Nathan baked in the commercial kitchens of Panaderia Margarita, a bakery in Caracas, Venezuela.

When asked how old he was when he became a baker, Nathan answers with out a hint of pride. "I've been baking seriously since I was seventeen years old."

You had me at blueberry boule

It's not uncommon during dining service to watch a guest wave away the bread tray. But when that very same guest overhears the gasps of pleasure from a neighboring table, they quickly change their mind.
 
One taste of the nuanced flavors of the blueberry boule, the delicate sweetness of the hazelnut and golden raisin oval or the earthy aromas of the sourdough tabatier, it's no wonder why men and women who previously wouldn't be caught dead eating carbs are begging for second and third helpings from the Tavern bread tray. Suddenly, Angelenos that never drove west of the 405 are now making weekly trips to the west side to buy their week's supply of bread from Tavern's gourmet shop, called The Larder.
 

Inspired by passion

The thing about Nathan Dakdouk's passion for bread making is that it is so inspiring, he has a way of making other people that love great food teary-eyed too. I saw it happen to Suzanne Goin when she spoke about Nathan's hand crafted breads on the first day of staff training for her then soon-to-be-opened restaurant. I was one of those lucky new staff members (I work as a server at Tavern when I'm not a freelance food writer and food blog author) that watched with astonishment as the James Beard-winning chef gushed like a star-struck school girl. Her eyes glistened with joy as she earnestly described her amazement at finding a little known but incredibly talented baker named Nathan.

I have to admit, Nathan made me cry, too. I couldn't help myself. Granted, I enjoy a great story. But I'm a sucker for a great food story. And Nathan has a real doozy of culinary tale.

Nathan's story, as with any great anecdote, began a long, long time ago in a land far, far away. Nathan was just eleven years-old and a student at Catholic boarding school in Venezuela. He was asked to help in the kitchen of an elderly monk and baker, named Jean-Pierre Noelle. Noelle, Nathan explained, was the man he would later call "master".

At first, Nathan did nothing more than sweep floors and wash dishes for Jean-Pierre. But after watching how the master could spark life into a handful of flour, thanks to an ancient starter called "the mother", Nathan became curious about the bread making process. This "mother" --a mixture his master made from flour, water, sugar and a naturally occurring yeast found on fermented grapes—seemed to be the secret behind Jean-Pierre's earthy breads. Looking for more clues, Nathan began taking the master's hand scribbled notes from the trash bin.

Nathan's interest in the master's scraps of paper did not go unnoticed. One day the master pulled the young student aside and asked if he truly wanted to learn how to make bread. When Nathan answered yes, the old man said, "then get the recipes you hid under your bed and bring them to me."

In what could have been a parable torn from the pages of the bible, Nathan explained how he returned to the kitchen with the scraps of paper, only to have the wise man command him to tear up the recipes. "If you want to learn how to make bread you must not follow recipes. You must learn everything."
 
That was when, Nathan explained (and the part in the story where I needed to wipe away my tears), the master taught him how to make "the mother."
 
 
The mother of all breads

Much like a sourdough starter, the "mother" is an ancient formula handed down for centuries of fermented grapes, sugar, flour and water whose combination is the beginning element of many breads, the Europeans call Pain au Levain.
 
Nathan's precious "mother" has been carefully maintained and "fed" for over seventeen years.  A handful of trusted friends throughout Los Angeles keep samples of Nathan's starter alive as a kind of security measure, in the case of a catastrophic event in the bakery.

The age of Nathan's "mother" isn't the only element that gives Tavern's breads such an uncommon complexity and depth of flavor. Nathan's skills as a baker and his intuitive abilities help him adapt to the constantly changing needs of the bread.

Every loaf is unique and requires different things. Touch, finesse and attention are lavished on all of the Tavern breads. Some loaves require strong mixing. Others, a tender touch. Some are more "hungry" for ingredients. It is the constant nuances in ingredients and environmental changes in temperature and humidity, make every day in the bakery different.
 

 
Nathan's work isn't easy. Considering how often Nathan must touch and taste every batch of bread, it's amazing how he maintains his lean frame. Perhaps it is the long days of working on his feet, carrying heavy trays of dough or the hours spent in front of a hot oven that keep him fit.
 
Nathan admits there are plenty of nights that he goes without sleep. He stays awake for hours, working out the elemental variances of dough in his mind. "I don't sleep. I can't. It's because of the bread itself."

Are the sleepless nights and long hours of work worth the effort? Nathan smiles. He tells me he didn't get into this life of baking for money, or fame. He bakes bread for the passion of it.
Again, his eyes fill with tears. "Making bread is worth the frustration."
 

 
Tavern offers a selection of breads in the dining room during service hours and sells the loaves in the gourmet market, The Larder.

Tavern Restaurant
11648 San Vicente Blvd.
ph: 310.806.6464

Hours:
Lunch 11:30 am to 2:30 pm
Bar menu offered 2:30 pm to 5:30 pm
Dinner from 5:30

The Larder
8 am – 8 pm
 

Brooke Burton is a freelance writer, author of Foodwoolf.com and a co-author of The Food Blog Code of Ethics. In her free time she is a server at Tavern Restaurant and a student of all things culinary.