Years ago I made a request to a German teacher who was a regular customer at my bakery, that when she went on her next trip to Germany to please bring me back a bread cookbook or two and I’d pay her for them. The ones she brought were in German, as I had hoped, and had some great pictures too!
Now, I don’t speak German. That was the language class I took for a few semesters in high school. In hindsight I should have taken Spanish. The only phrases I remember are “I don’t know” and “I have no money”. Really useful phrases (insert eye-roll), not something like “where do I find great food?” or “two beers please” (my best Spanish phrase at the moment). Nope. I won’t be traveling to Germany any time soon the way it sounds.
The recipes look wonderful, or the pictures do at least. I started roughly translating a few that I wanted to try first shortly after receiving the books. Well, I received a request for a sunflower seed bread and wouldn’t ya’ know there’s a recipe for that in both cookbooks!
“Know your food, know your farmers and know your kitchen.” It’s a quote from Joel Salatin that has been floating around social media for a while now. I do agree with it but what about know your baker? You probably should; especially when your baker is a farmer too! How handy is that?! Grown your grain and bake them too… or something like that.
Dream big or sit on the front porch…or… Dream big, grab your hoe and rolling pin and make things happen!
I love that the eggs in our kitchen came from our coop, the raspberries in my scones came from our berry patch, the honey from our hive, the wheat from our field and ground to flour in our kitchen and if I were ever not pregnant when it came time to start milking Lucy and Sweet Caroline there’s potential for fresh dairy products from the barn. That’s just the bakery side of the farm. To say that we are blessed is an amazing understatement, to say we are thankful is the same.
I had planned (we can pause here for a good laugh) to trade my chef hat for a straw hat when we moved to the farm. I had for a while and now I wear both and I’m not sure how it has happened. Slow garden and waiting to harvest the wheat field I guess. I still am out early doing chores with Mike and I’ve started to spend more time in the kitchen again too.
Saturday I had planned to do a little baking; fill a few orders, prep for the next farmer’s market and some bread for home. I had the oven on and the mixer running by 6:30 in the morning. I was off to a good start mixing and rolling and baking. Mike was going to pick up a couple gallons of milk on his way home for me but I ran out long before he was going to be home. I called my dad and he brought up the milk from their house so I could keep going until Mike was home. Mom was up the night before with a new block of yeast, as I didn’t realized I was a low as I was when I was at the store.
The kids were in and out and lunch time came, they ate and Mike put them down for naps. I kept right on baking. I guess I lost track of time because all of a sudden everyone was crowding my space in the kitchen looking for something to snack on. I’d find them something and send them on their way. Finally Mike asked “What’s for supper?”
I made this toast for the first time last weekend. When I told Mike what it was his reaction was just what I expected.
“I know they called me Jasper Raisin Toast when I was little but I don’t think I actually like raisins in my toast.”
No surprise, most of my new recipes are met with this kind of excitement. It almost never goes to waste either. This was no exception. We prefer it toasted with extra butter and maybe a little bit of honey.