I started bookmarking recipes. It was clearly only a matter of time before the bookmarking gave way to actual baking. And it\u2019s only through a supreme effort of will that I have narrowly avoided opening a micro bakery, like the 477,137 insta influencers who were supercharging my dopamine fix with seductive images of home-baked goodness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not half-baked<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\nBaking is in my blood. It\u2019s a decades-long passion that I\u2019ve always attributed to my Hungarian heritage. Breathing in the sweet smell of fresh baking on the streets of Budapest is an unforgettable experience that links me, bittersweetly, to a complex heritage of persecution and cultural pride. But that\u2019s a story for another blog.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even with decades of experience, things can go wrong in the kitchen. If it\u2019s sour dough, then weather conditions can be the hard-to-control 4th ingredient that can really mess you up. Absentmindedness can lead you to make a brownie without flour. (Trust me. It\u2019s awful). Or bung digital scales can leave you kneading an over-dry gingerbread dough for an eternity, wondering why it\u2019s so impossible to handle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Enter stage left \u2013 the Tangzhong<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\nHaving worked with yeast doughs for more decades than I care to admit to, I felt confident that I knew all the basic principles. I understand a thing or two about how gluten behaves. I know that the reason you work scone dough with a knife is because you\u2019re not so much mixing the dough as wetting the flour, so you don\u2019t over-activate the gluten, turning light and fluffy deliciousness into chewy rock cakes. But enough of this nerdery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Instagram presented me with a recipe for a yeasted chocolate hazelnut scroll that required making something I had never heard of – a tangzhong – I came very<\/em> close to ignoring that seemingly extraneous, fussy step and ploughing on with my by-rote approach to yeasted doughs. After all, I knew what I was doing, right?<\/p>\n\n\n\nBut something piqued my curiosity and stopped me from reverting to routine. There must be some reason why a clearly competent baker would faff around with making what was essentially a milk and flour roux to mix into the dough. I looked up \u201ctangzhong\u201d on the google machine and, well, it was revelatory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had discovered a whole new freakin\u2019 baking thing! How was this even possible? You might guess where I am heading with this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In short, a tangzhong<\/a> is used to enhance the capacity of the gluten in flour to absorb moisture. The result is a baked good that is softer and moister and retains its freshness for longer. I can attest to this. My spouse left one of those choc hazelnut scrolls in a microwave and then promptly forgot about it. Three weeks later, he returned to the scene of the crime, expecting the worst. Guess what? No signs of mould.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThis is not just a blog post about the joys and wonders of lifelong learning<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\nThis blog is partly about the unexpected and joyous voyage of discovery that personal and professional development can take you on, no matter how experienced you are or how much you\u2019ve mastered the craft. But it\u2019s more than that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just one more tangent before I get to the point. I promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I learned music from an early age. That also means learning lots of fabulous Italian terms for things like speeding up, slowing down, or creating a particular kind of mood. As you can see here<\/a>, Italians have 31 ways to notate the tempo of music. My favourite is \u201candante\u201d, which means at an easy walking pace. But if you add all the nuanced Italian terms for volume and mood, you can see how the available interpretive options on a music score quickly become infinite.<\/p>\n\n\n\nAt its heart, there\u2019s only a tiny number of options for what you can do musically in any given moment: you can change the note, change the tempo and\/or change the volume. And yet, when you add a few other basic elements like harmony and instrumentation, you end up with an endless range of possibilities and musical styles, including those yet to be invented and appreciated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The 5 basic massage strokes<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\nThere\u2019s a nice, brief piece on the history of Swedish massage here<\/a> that I encourage you to read. Might as well bust the myth that Peter Henry Ling invented Swedish massage while we\u2019re on this tangential path. And why do these basic Swedish strokes have French names? French was the international language of diplomacy<\/a> at the time Swedish\/French massage was developed. Apparently, we\u2019ve been confused about naming conventions since the beginning.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBut if we think about those 5 basic strokes as notes in a scale and then add some Italian nomenclature for pace, intensity or depth and mood\/intent \u2026 suddenly you have the birth of a million modalities of massage from a very small number of basic elements, including Swedish\/French\/Italian massoth\u00e9rapie which I have only just invented.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dress them up and brand them however you like, but every single massage modality that has ever been invented or will be invented is essentially based on those 5 strokes, regardless of whether you slap a TM after their name. And it doesn\u2019t matter where you completed your basic training, you learned those 5 basic strokes in term 1. Yes, there is massive amounts of nuance and technical information in some massage modalities \u2013 plenty of those Italian musical terms to learn and master, if you will, to encompass the complexity of particular presentations and conditions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Back to the tangzhong<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\nI\u2019ve never taken a formal course in baking but I learned all the basic techniques over a few years as a kid. Essentially, there are baking equivalents to effleurage, petrissage, tapotement, frictions and vibrations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But is there a massage therapy equivalent to a tangzhong? Some brilliant principle or principles that we just haven\u2019t stumbled across yet even after decades of massaging? Are there, perhaps, treatment principles to be learned and applied that were never covered in your basic training or the last modality-based professional development you attended? Something that is waiting to motivate and excite you with its potential?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There\u2019s no single answer to these questions because the journey of discovery is principally personal. I expect there\u2019s people yelling at the screen at this very moment \u201cI can\u2019t believe you\u2019d never heard of a tangzhong\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I do think some of the answer may partially lie in this excellent AMT conference presentation by Dan Wonnocott<\/a>. All massage therapists should watch it.<\/p>\n\n\n\nFor me, one of the biggest \u201caha\u201d principle moments was understanding that pain is generated in the brain. It sounds so incredibly obvious to me now but it had profound consequences for the way I practised 20 years ago. The current cohort of massage therapy students are blessed to have this embedded in their initial training now<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\nBut there have been lots of other incremental and profound moments along the path that helped me uncouple my practice from reductively biomechanical thinking. It was a massive relief when I could stop pathologising people\u2019s posture based on a meaningless ideal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
None of these revelations came from learning a new modality though. They came from exposure to a principle. Over my career, I have come to see how much more bang for the buck a principle gives to your practice than two or three take home tools. (Not that there\u2019s anything wrong with those take-home tools \u2013 there\u2019s specific techniques I have learned that I have an enduring love affair with.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Conclusion<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\nIn last week\u2019s blog post<\/a> I spoke about seeking novelty in professional development as an antidote to PD burnout. Although this blog has taken a circuitous, metaphor-laden path, I\u2019d like to suggest that there\u2019s gold in them thar principle hills. Learn 5 basic strokes and a bit of Italian and you can potentially save yourself thousands in modality trainings. Seek to understand new principles and you can invent 5000 new modalities in your own clinic. <\/p>\n\n\n\nBetter still, new principles can help you understand why you might have a bad day at the clinic or a rough time helping a particular client. Let\u2019s just say I\u2019ve made some pretty average scones in my time even though I know how to wield a butter knife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the simplest ways to begin such a journey of discovery is to join AMT’s Facebook group<\/a> and start reading some of the excellent material and discussions posted there. But there’s also loads of interesting blogs and podcasts that unpack principles and treatment philosophy. Perhaps a few journeymen can post some suggestions in the comments. <\/p>\n\n\n\nAnyone fancy a fresh chocolate hazelnut scroll? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
About the author<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n
Having worked with yeast doughs for more decades than I care to admit to, I felt confident that I knew all the basic principles. I understand a thing or two about how gluten behaves. I know that the reason you work scone dough with a knife is because you\u2019re not so much mixing the dough as wetting the flour, so you don\u2019t over-activate the gluten, turning light and fluffy deliciousness into chewy rock cakes. But enough of this nerdery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Instagram presented me with a recipe for a yeasted chocolate hazelnut scroll that required making something I had never heard of – a tangzhong – I came very<\/em> close to ignoring that seemingly extraneous, fussy step and ploughing on with my by-rote approach to yeasted doughs. After all, I knew what I was doing, right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n But something piqued my curiosity and stopped me from reverting to routine. There must be some reason why a clearly competent baker would faff around with making what was essentially a milk and flour roux to mix into the dough. I looked up \u201ctangzhong\u201d on the google machine and, well, it was revelatory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I had discovered a whole new freakin\u2019 baking thing! How was this even possible? You might guess where I am heading with this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In short, a tangzhong<\/a> is used to enhance the capacity of the gluten in flour to absorb moisture. The result is a baked good that is softer and moister and retains its freshness for longer. I can attest to this. My spouse left one of those choc hazelnut scrolls in a microwave and then promptly forgot about it. Three weeks later, he returned to the scene of the crime, expecting the worst. Guess what? No signs of mould.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This blog is partly about the unexpected and joyous voyage of discovery that personal and professional development can take you on, no matter how experienced you are or how much you\u2019ve mastered the craft. But it\u2019s more than that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Just one more tangent before I get to the point. I promise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I learned music from an early age. That also means learning lots of fabulous Italian terms for things like speeding up, slowing down, or creating a particular kind of mood. As you can see here<\/a>, Italians have 31 ways to notate the tempo of music. My favourite is \u201candante\u201d, which means at an easy walking pace. But if you add all the nuanced Italian terms for volume and mood, you can see how the available interpretive options on a music score quickly become infinite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At its heart, there\u2019s only a tiny number of options for what you can do musically in any given moment: you can change the note, change the tempo and\/or change the volume. And yet, when you add a few other basic elements like harmony and instrumentation, you end up with an endless range of possibilities and musical styles, including those yet to be invented and appreciated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a nice, brief piece on the history of Swedish massage here<\/a> that I encourage you to read. Might as well bust the myth that Peter Henry Ling invented Swedish massage while we\u2019re on this tangential path. And why do these basic Swedish strokes have French names? French was the international language of diplomacy<\/a> at the time Swedish\/French massage was developed. Apparently, we\u2019ve been confused about naming conventions since the beginning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But if we think about those 5 basic strokes as notes in a scale and then add some Italian nomenclature for pace, intensity or depth and mood\/intent \u2026 suddenly you have the birth of a million modalities of massage from a very small number of basic elements, including Swedish\/French\/Italian massoth\u00e9rapie which I have only just invented.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Dress them up and brand them however you like, but every single massage modality that has ever been invented or will be invented is essentially based on those 5 strokes, regardless of whether you slap a TM after their name. And it doesn\u2019t matter where you completed your basic training, you learned those 5 basic strokes in term 1. Yes, there is massive amounts of nuance and technical information in some massage modalities \u2013 plenty of those Italian musical terms to learn and master, if you will, to encompass the complexity of particular presentations and conditions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019ve never taken a formal course in baking but I learned all the basic techniques over a few years as a kid. Essentially, there are baking equivalents to effleurage, petrissage, tapotement, frictions and vibrations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But is there a massage therapy equivalent to a tangzhong? Some brilliant principle or principles that we just haven\u2019t stumbled across yet even after decades of massaging? Are there, perhaps, treatment principles to be learned and applied that were never covered in your basic training or the last modality-based professional development you attended? Something that is waiting to motivate and excite you with its potential?<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s no single answer to these questions because the journey of discovery is principally personal. I expect there\u2019s people yelling at the screen at this very moment \u201cI can\u2019t believe you\u2019d never heard of a tangzhong\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But I do think some of the answer may partially lie in this excellent AMT conference presentation by Dan Wonnocott<\/a>. All massage therapists should watch it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For me, one of the biggest \u201caha\u201d principle moments was understanding that pain is generated in the brain. It sounds so incredibly obvious to me now but it had profound consequences for the way I practised 20 years ago. The current cohort of massage therapy students are blessed to have this embedded in their initial training now<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But there have been lots of other incremental and profound moments along the path that helped me uncouple my practice from reductively biomechanical thinking. It was a massive relief when I could stop pathologising people\u2019s posture based on a meaningless ideal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n None of these revelations came from learning a new modality though. They came from exposure to a principle. Over my career, I have come to see how much more bang for the buck a principle gives to your practice than two or three take home tools. (Not that there\u2019s anything wrong with those take-home tools \u2013 there\u2019s specific techniques I have learned that I have an enduring love affair with.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n In last week\u2019s blog post<\/a> I spoke about seeking novelty in professional development as an antidote to PD burnout. Although this blog has taken a circuitous, metaphor-laden path, I\u2019d like to suggest that there\u2019s gold in them thar principle hills. Learn 5 basic strokes and a bit of Italian and you can potentially save yourself thousands in modality trainings. Seek to understand new principles and you can invent 5000 new modalities in your own clinic. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Better still, new principles can help you understand why you might have a bad day at the clinic or a rough time helping a particular client. Let\u2019s just say I\u2019ve made some pretty average scones in my time even though I know how to wield a butter knife.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One of the simplest ways to begin such a journey of discovery is to join AMT’s Facebook group<\/a> and start reading some of the excellent material and discussions posted there. But there’s also loads of interesting blogs and podcasts that unpack principles and treatment philosophy. Perhaps a few journeymen can post some suggestions in the comments. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Anyone fancy a fresh chocolate hazelnut scroll? <\/p>\n\n\n\nThis is not just a blog post about the joys and wonders of lifelong learning<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
The 5 basic massage strokes<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Back to the tangzhong<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Conclusion<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
About the author<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/blog.amt.org.au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/02\/thumbnail_IMG_20201008_220006.jpg?resize=953%2C1024&ssl=1\")
<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n