In the beginning was that start. And at the start, there was starter...

Alright, after a long interlude that spanned 7 cities and three continents, Breaking Bread is back. Geographically, I've relocated to Kenya to take up my day job - development economic research. Felicitously, said relocation has forced me to begin a new batch of sourdough starter, the mother's milk of all sinfully good bread.

After some back and forth, I jumped off the bridge and purchased some artisan yeast from Italy. In my foodie dreams, this will materialize into a parade of Neapolitan pizzas of ambrosia-esque quality. But, as dreams are sometimes more enjoyable as fiction, I'm going to let this one lie for a second - supposedly, these yeast can stay dormant in the fridge for a while - and will instead embark on a pioneering safari to tame the first wild yeast from Busia, Kenya. Who knows - my home away from home, this African town of 30,000, might displace San Francisco as sourdough capital of the known world! (aside: can we bring "Frisco" back? Kerouac used it - and San Franciscans seem to be generally pro-Kerouac)



Here's a glimpse of lovely Busia, Kenya. I've lived here for a year, and will be working here through the end of May. Busia makes for good bread - one is forced into it, as Kenyan food is bland as sand - and good conversation, as I get a REALLY interesting set of co-workers (local Kenyans, other development economists, and a healthy dose of save-the-world types)

To keep you guys in the loop, I'm going to do a play-by-play on my sourdough starter over the next week. By that time, my wild yeast should be growing exponentially, and be ready to lay low in the refrigerator.

Pretty much anywhere you are in the world, you can capture wild yeast and set it to your bidding. Simply follow these instructions:

Day 1: 3 1/2 Tb whole wheat flour
1/4 C unsweetened pineapple juice
Mix, cover, stir twice a day

Day 3: Add 3 1/2 Tb whole wheat flour
2 Tb unsweetened pineapple juice
Mix, cover, stir twice a day

Day 4: Add 7 Tb whole wheat flour
2 Tb water
Mix, cover, stir twice a day

Day 6: Throw out all but 1/2 cup of previous starter (by this point it's too acidic)
Add 10 1/2 Tb whole wheat flour
2 Tb water
Mix, cover, stir twice a day


The inclusion of pineapple juice was at the suggestion of Peter Reinheart, the artisan bread baker/theologian/"cute old dork" (my co-worker Jessica's words) that I referenced in a previous post. He claims that the acidity prevents acculturation of a noxious bacteria - let's hope he's right! Luckily, pineapples are one thing that Busia has in spades. Yes, living in rural equatorial zones does have it's perks.



Starter on the sixth day of creation. Other famous sixth days.


I'll keep ya'll posted on conversations as they emerge - but you're looking at the equivalent of the gleam in the milkman's eye right now - you can't expect too much conversation.

enjoy,
BB

and so it begins...

There comes a time in every ex-pat's life when you feel that you ought to write a blog. The vague expectation of documenting various exploits, bizarre shennanigans, and tragicomic scenes for one's distant friends and family to vicariously experience, commune in, and enjoy, is not an unreasonable prompting, nor one wholely without merit. However, I do not intend that to be the basis of this blog. This one, instead, will be primarily occupied with one man's epic quest for the simplest of human joys: bread, and conversation.

"Breaking Bread" is a term that has fallen out of favor; yet there is something deeply intimate, stimulating, exciting, and personal about sharing a meal with another person. With few exceptions, my best conversations occur over a dinner table. This blog will document those conversations, the tangential references that they beget, and the meals that, through some mysterious channel, inspire them.

To begin, I want to beam out to a TED talk on bread. If TED talks are new to you, the basic premise is that a noteworthy individual gets 30 minutes, and only 30 minutes, to talk about whatever they want. After their rookie appearance, they are never invited back for a second shot. It's all or nothing, in 20 minutes. To my great delight, Peter Reinhart, an artisan bread baker/theologian, felt the need to wax lyrical on the subject of complex carbs...

http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/peter_reinhart_on_bread.html
(if it seems slow, jump to minute 8)

Listening to Reinhart talk about bread is like listening to a filmmaker discuss porn - it's interesting, but leaves you with the feeling that you should really be doing something else...

enjoy,
BB