Saturday, August 28, 2010

Her Nextdoor...

Her in the little housebus nextdoor who shall remain nameless, came over as neighbours do, to borrow a cup of flour, oh and have you got wholemeal as well, some seeds, only if you have any, oh yes and some milk powder. No I have a pinch of salt and some yeast. Yes some sugar would be good.
Thanks, bye...
A few minutes ago there was the unmistakable smell of freshly baked bread coming my way on the morning breeze. Come closer to the screen, you can probably smell it too, and now I'm tasting it. Camp oven bread.
It is, as most things so beautifully basic are, really really good...
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  1. Is there a wee pinch of competitiveness brewing in the camp? Pikelets yesterday from one resident, bread today from another. Is there the possibility of a bake-off on the table?

  2. There's no competition but there's some damn fine food going down around here. Another housebuser made a wonderful batch of Tuatua fritters last night and there was some wonderful spicy fish balls as an entree too. I didn't know fish had balls, did you?