It’s such an odd time of year.
All the little signs of Spring peek out in the garden, but the weather is as wild and unpredictable as any day in December. Right now it is so dark out that it seems like evening, and it’s 9:30 in the morning. The rain pours down and the weatherman predicts possible thunderstorms today.
I feel like a restless horse, too long cooped up in my stall. I need a good run, and a run on grass that is not so wet that I will slip and fall on my substantial hindquarters during my frolicking.
I realized that I didn’t say anything more about the Salt Rising Bread.
Let me be diplomatic.
As I told my neighbor D., it is a sort of glorified corn bread. I gave her a few slices when it was still warm, (and marginally edible)
We figured it would be a welcome change to plain old cornbread at the end of a long day jolting along in a wagon train in the middle of the prairie. But I question the “rising” in its title, as it only rose in the oven at the very last, something bakers call “oven spring”. Thank God for this quirk of breadmaking, otherwise that loaf would qualify as construction material. Technically, if you let it cool and put it in a plastic bag overnight, it DOES qualify. Either that, or a weapon suitable for a trebuchet. So, unless you have a burning desire to test your alchemy skills, I would not bother with Salt Rising Bread. Hmmmm, now that I think about it, the reason I wanted to try it was the belief that no matter how improbable that recipe sounded, “I” could make it work.
I think I need to go back to Sorcerer’s Apprentice school for a refresher course.
To console myself for this colossal failure, I whipped up a batch of sourdough bread, which was an unqualified success thank goodness.
(My baker’s reputation is intact) But true to form, I am as we speak, nursing a quart canning jar filled with warm water and raisins, trying to make something called:
Mosbolletjies.
I have NO idea how that is pronounced. It is a South African sweet bun that has no yeast, but relies on this fermented raisin juice for leavening. I guess my ego is in further need of deflating…. It’s the scientist in me. I MUST do my own experiment with this improbable recipe. Perhaps “I” can make it work!
There is a full page color photograph of the completed buns. Which means one of two things: That it IS possible to make these little darlings, OR some lying &%$#@ slipped some yeast in there while no one was looking and came strutting out of the kitchen into the photography studio behaving like Moses coming down the mountain with the Tablets.
Now you may be thinking, this is WAY more information than I need to know about Salt Rising Bread and fermented raisin buns. I apologize, but only slightly. If YOU were here dealing with this weather, you might obsess about these things too. But in order to spare you further distress having to witness my “cabin fever” psychosis, I will cease and desist.
I am going to go watch my jar of raisins. The recipe says that when they all float to the top of the water, the “mos” is ready to use.
( I wonder if watched raisins float?)