Today I finally got to do more than just mush my bag.
I added flour, sugar and milk. Then I mushed it. It was exciting.
On Friday our home ec teacher sent out an email offering friendship bread starters. Although I had no idea what it was exactly, lately I’ve been a rather intrepid cook, so I figured what the heck, I’ll try it. The next morning she sent a student in with a giant Ziploc bag full of what looked like yellow cake batter and a piece of paper with instructions.
The instructions are simple enough. I spent the first four days mushing the bag. I know it sounds really ridiculous, but when it arrived first period and I started mushing, it alleviated the stress I’d already acquired from the overly long commute. I offered it to one of my students who also seemed to be getting off on the wrong foot, and although she turned me down, she did laugh and tell me I crack her up. I told her we all need more things to mush in our lives.
For the next three days, I mushed, but only a little bit. I was warned not to over mush. Once a day and only for a minute or so.
Today I got to add ingredients to the mysterious starter and mush again. Tomorrow I go back to mushing. At least for the next four days. Then, I get to create my own starters and add lots of ingredients to the remaining mush. I am promised a concoction of Amish cinnamon bread that is supposed to be delicious. I have to admit I’m a little wary. Anything I add milk to and then let sit on my counter with only the slightest bit of mushing seems like it has the distinct possibility to cause major food poisoning. Then again, despite the fact that they are primitive as can be, the Amish seem to do alright. At least I haven’t heard of any mass deaths due to friendship bread ingestion. It would be a very misleading name if I did.
Amazingly enough, my husband knew exactly what the slop in the bag was. I held it up and cautioned him not to throw it out. I was worried he’d mistake it for garbage (and rightfully so, it’s wierd liquid in a baggy). Before I could even explain, he said, “oh, are you making friendship bread.” I was astounded. Not that he knew of its existance really. My husband is a surprisingly intelligent guy (and I don’t mean that he comes off like he isn’t, it just always surprises me the wierd and interesting things he seems to know…the guy is like Rainman when it comes to identifying any piece of music or animal/plant/fish/bug). Then again, his mother, despite driving me crazy at times, is one hell of a cook. She was a southern stay at home mom who was surrounded by other southern stay at home moms. I’m sure a lot of frienship starter got passed around.
I really hope this bread turns out to have all the cinnamony goodness I’ve been promised. I do love bread of any sort, but bread with ooey-gooey cinnamon takes the cake. I’m also excited that just about the time we finish it off, I’ll have a new batch ready to bake. I’ll also have three other starters to help spread the love. I’ve already promised one to our babysitter as she is always sending me home with homemade goodies she’s baked during the day. The other two I’m not so sure about. I thought about my dear friend Eee, but her phobia of milk is so strong that I doubt she’ll want it after reading this blog.
So, if you know me and want some friendship bread starter, let me know.