The Adventures of Bread

Jim and I walked by a bakery today and it brought back memories from our two weeks on the estancia. Since we were left alone for two weeks, we ate all the fresh meat we had in the first four days before it went bad (our dog loved the bone we gave her when we were done!). Bread did not make it into our collection of supplies, but we found yeast and flour in the cupboard. After about half a week I decided I wanted to try to make bread, so I mixed some powered milk with water, beat in two eggs, and then poured in flour (with a dash of salf) until the batter seemed appropiate. Then I added some yeast and beat, rolled, and kneeded the dough just like I thought a peasant should. The bread went into the oven, and since we had no way to measure the heat, I had to keep my eye on it (but I knew NOT to open the oven door because the bread would fall!) After all was done, we ate the bread and decided it was a huge success, especially since I had no way to measure anything.

I made bread again after we had moved. This next batch we cooked in a wood stove, so it took longer. The bread came out a little flat too because I didn't put in enough yeast.

The last batch was cooked in the outdoor, brick oven. We cooked pizza crusts first, and afterwards stuck in the bread. The fire had become very hot by that time, so hot that when we came to check on the bread 15 minutes later, the top was completely black. Jim put out the fire and we let the oven cool. Since the underside of the bread was still soft, we flipped the bread in the pans and stuck them back in. Over the course of the next couple days we ate the bread down to the black crust. Our dog ate the burnt part for us.