Sourdough on the campfire
- Thread starter tim_n
- Start date
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm sourdough , team that up with a nice plate of Boston baked beans and a cold beer..........HEAVEN!!!!!!
Yes please tell us a story about your sourdough yeast starter.
I like to bake but have not explored that direction yet.
I like to bake but have not explored that direction yet.
Great stuff Tim! I've been looking into doing this sort of thing myself. In case it's of help to anyone, I came across this excellent video on sourdough starters the other day (his other stuff is worth a browse as well):
[video=youtube;pmLmpJhumSM]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmLmpJhumSM[/video]
[video=youtube;pmLmpJhumSM]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmLmpJhumSM[/video]
One thing I've found really useful baking in Dutch ovens ( ok in my case Aussie camp ovens) is a trivet to raise the stuff baking half a inch off the floor of the oven. You can use a few pebbles if you are using a baking tray but a trivet is better in my opinion. All it needs to be is disk or oval of metal perforated and either raised by the edges being folded down or three bolts and nuts. A wooden former makes it easy to fold the edges down on a piece of mesh or heavy wire netting or sheet with holes cut in it. My smaller camp oven came with one made from heavy gauge steel but the 15 incher didn't. Luckily a inverted 14 inch perforated pizza tray does the job perfectly.
It really does pretty much make burning the base of a loaf or cake much harder to do, although I have managed to do it
but I had to try real hard!
if you want to do two pizzas or lots of smaller things like bread sticks or cupcakes you can make a second shelf/layer raised on bolts. So long as there's air gaps around the edges things bake fine.
Made me hungry seeing that loaf!
atb
Tom
It really does pretty much make burning the base of a loaf or cake much harder to do, although I have managed to do it
but I had to try real hard!if you want to do two pizzas or lots of smaller things like bread sticks or cupcakes you can make a second shelf/layer raised on bolts. So long as there's air gaps around the edges things bake fine.
Made me hungry seeing that loaf!
atb
Tom
Just seen the other bread thread, you're way ahead of me, sorry for the duck egg sucking lesson!
The inverted, shot up cake tin will work fine. You may want to cut it down if the bread rises to hit the lid!
ATB
Tom
The inverted, shot up cake tin will work fine. You may want to cut it down if the bread rises to hit the lid!
ATB
Tom
Am gonna give it a go tomorrow , was thinking it might hit the lid , will post some pics of how it turns out
The sourdough starter didn't start out as an intentionalpurchase, we'd gone on holiday to Peru, not to find the secret source ofPaddingtons marmalade but as a general holiday trip.
I bought the tickets online. I got a good price.
The trip to the airport was fairly standard. Twice the overhead lines fell down and thedriver got bored at one point and decided to skip every other station. It is Greater Anglia after all.
On arrival, I got upgraded to business class, much to theannoyance of my wife who because I’d booked the tickets separately to save themost money, got stuck in standard. Whilst I ate the poncy freshly steamed asparagus with a poachedegg. My wife took the standard classchicken. A big mistake, never have thechicken.
At Alejandro Velasco Astete International airport there was afairly big queue for the taxi rank. There had been a few touts for luxury taxisjust after security, so we thought we'd try to skip the queue and maybe getsomething more air conditioned. After we'd followed the guy down thestairs to the garage area, we realised our mistake when I was tackled to theground and I had a Hessian coffee sack stuffed over my head. They treatedHelen much more gently, I probably shouldn't have tried kicking the first guyin the crotch.
When I awoke from my kidnapper induced coma, a couple of hourshad gone past, it was raining heavily and we'd left the beaten track and seemedto be on a logging train. I remember the guy smoking a really course grade ofcigarette and the guy in the back with us had really bad halitosis.
I was feeling very thirsty and still a little dizzy from the beating I'dendured at the airport, but they obviously wanted to keep some care over us aswhen I asked for water, they put a bottle in my zip tied hands. I couldn't seeanything but they opened the bag just enough for me to slip the bottle in andtake a swig.
It was p**s.
Anyway, after I'd spat it out, tossed the bottle onthe floor and had another half hearted kicking the truck suddenly lurched tothe side. The rain had made the logging trail very slippery and the truckhad slipped off the road. "You get out, Push!" - both my wife and Ihad our hoods removed and were "encouraged" to get out with theuse of what I can only assume was the muzzle of an AK-47. The guy withthe gun leaned up a tree by the side of the truck and sparked up whilst gesturingwith his gun. "Push! Push!".
As we both put our best feet forward and shoulders to the metal,there was a groaning sound and the rear axle snapped. The truck, alreadyheavily loaded with supplies rocked uncertainly. With a scream of tortured metal,it tipped and I saw the brief scared look on the guards face as the trucktumbled on to him and pinned him against a tree.
The tree didn't arrest its motion, but continued to slide down the hillside andthe front cab was impaled on the shattered remains of the wooden guard rail.
My wife and I were initially shocked, not only had we escaped,but we had a fully supplied truck.
It was of course at this exact moment the fuel from the rupturedsupplies in the rear of the truck caught on the lit remains of the guardscigarette.
I can remember saying "well at least someone will have seenthe explosion." Sadly for us, someone had.
I worked my way over to the crushed remains of the guard andchecked for signs of life whilst Helen picked at the debris on the road. I didn’t find any, but having identified himas the guy who’d previously been responsible for my various kickings, I gavehim another kick in the gooles. Verylittle was left undamaged, all that was recoverable was a blood soaked pack ofcigarettes (neither of us smoke) a combat knife and a broken lighter. The gun was a right off, for tworeasons. One it was bent and stuck intothe tree. The 2[SUP]nd[/SUP] reason wasit was also through the guard.
My wife had found a useable water bottle, a small length of rope,some food and some plastic sheeting.
I tied up the food in the plastic bag, lashed it to a stick Icut down with the knife. It was aboutthen we heard the engines revving up the track. Whilst Helen started back up the slippery hillside seeing rescue withinour grasp, I grabbed her hand and pulled her behind the tree. It was then we saw the guys in the Jeep. They settled down around the crash site. The fire was too fierce for them to get tooclose to the truck, however it was clear when they returned to the jeep andstarted loading up their guns that they weren’t friendly.
My wife and I slipped away into the jungle. We ran hell for leather down the slope untilwe reached the river. Following theriver downstream seemed too obvious, so we decided to work up stream then circleround back to the logging road.
There was a strange smell about the woods as we worked our wayup the stream, but I didn’t think much of it. We’d obviously chosen well as the armed guys worked their way down thehill having found our tracks leading to the river. They all chose down steam probably thinkingwe were making our way back to civilisation. Ahead of us, there was a clearing.
I first realised we’d made a really big mistake when I realisedthe clearing was filled with cannabis plants.
We both agreed that it’d probably be best if we worked our wayround back to the logging road by sticking to the sides of the clearing. We almost made it too, until we fell into thepit.
As pits went, it wasn’t that bad. There were no snakes or sharpenedstakes. It also lacked exits except forthe entrance, which was too high for even my 6ft 5” frame. It did have pooled water and leaches howeverwhich didn’t make for a comfortable six hour wait. By this time, it was getting dark and theonly reason we were aware we were being “rescued” was when three locals looked overthe edge with various assault weapons and a bleeding bright torch.
After being pulled back up and given the by now familiarkicking, I was dragged to a separate cell where I was bound to the bambooscreening.
After the bright spot from the torches faded, I could finallytake in my surroundings. Taking stock, Icould see the reason for the horrendous smell was the overflowing bucket in thecorner. Toilet roll was noteablyabsent. There was a small oil lamp inthe corner in the middle of the table. Whilst the knots were tight and well tied, the bamboo was sharp andthere was a little movement on the bindings. After an hour or so, my bindings were free. I found the door surprisingly unlocked, I wandereddown the hallway, ribs aching.
It was then I found my wife in the kitchen, she was with some Peruvianwoman, making bread. It was by far thebest bread I’d ever had.
Even though she didn’t speak any English and I didn’t speak anyPeruvian, she explained that she had been held captive here all her life,forced to work in servitude cooking for the criminals growing the weedoutside. Once a week a helicopter would comeand take the drugs to a drop off point where they would be taken by boat. She also explained the offside rule, whichhas always been intensely boring for me and I still couldn’t explain it now,except in Peruvian. Tonight, thehelicopter was due. The drugs had beenboxed out on the deck outside. Using apry bar, the spry 90 year old opened the crate and removed some of the drugs(she explained she liked a smoke - it kept her young, and she’d store it underthe kitchen sink, where no one would look). We climbed in and she handed me a package after making me promise tohand it to her grandson who’d moved some eight years previously to Dublin. We said our goodbyes and she nailed the boxback up. Just in time – the sound of ahelicopter was drawing in.
After an hour of being stuck in a box, the helicopter landed andwe felt the box being loaded onto a boat. The speedboat sped off. Light wasfast approaching. To our surprise therewas a commotion outside, with lots of people shouting. There was the sound of English – it was anavy boat calling for the boats surrender.
Sadly these guys didn’t want to go quietly. Automatic weapons fire echoed out and beforewe knew it, the boat was being peppered with bullets. A few even hammered their way into the crate,but the densely packed produce kept us safe.
Everything from this point onwards was a bit of a blur, I’d liketo say the navy was nice. But it wasn’t. I got a bit of a kicking. Mostly because I broke down crying on thefirst guy who rescued us.
On our return to England, we opened the package the old lady hadgiven us. It was her well establishedsour dough starter. We would have sentit to her grandson, but we didn’t understand Peruvian, so we had no idea who hewas or where he lived.
Or of course, I got it off eBay, you choose.
500g White Flour
Cup of Starter
650ml of warm water.
Mix, leave over night to form the sponge.
Next morning, add 25g of salt, 600g of either white/brown flour. It's a wet mix, so dust your hands with flour as well as the working surface and the dough!
Kneed the dough until it windows or tears (if it's brown) and let it rise for an hour or two, gently poke it until it deflates, then repeat 3/4 times. Leave in bowl until doubled in size.
Set the oven to as hot as possible and heat an oven tray. Take tray out, sprinkle with flour, dump dough onto it, slash as artistically as you like, put into oven with a pan of boiling water at the bottom. Turn temp down to 200'C and bake for 40+ minutes until cooked. Leave to cool before cutting!
Cup of Starter
650ml of warm water.
Mix, leave over night to form the sponge.
Next morning, add 25g of salt, 600g of either white/brown flour. It's a wet mix, so dust your hands with flour as well as the working surface and the dough!
Kneed the dough until it windows or tears (if it's brown) and let it rise for an hour or two, gently poke it until it deflates, then repeat 3/4 times. Leave in bowl until doubled in size.
Set the oven to as hot as possible and heat an oven tray. Take tray out, sprinkle with flour, dump dough onto it, slash as artistically as you like, put into oven with a pan of boiling water at the bottom. Turn temp down to 200'C and bake for 40+ minutes until cooked. Leave to cool before cutting!
Loving the story, though I have to say at the beginning I was intrigued as to why you'd be heading to Peru, why Greater Anglia was falling apart and full of mental taxi drivers then everything improved with the kidnapping
then everything improved with the kidnapping
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Thanks for the bed-time story (and the bread info). My bread baking has become such a weekly (weakly?) routine, I've got to do something to break away.
Your "hearth-bread" is as elegant as I've seen.
San Francisco, California has garnered some fame for SF Sourdough breads. Just a few years ago, the yeast was elevated to varietal if not species, status.
Hence my curiosity. Saccharomyces cerviseae var. SFCA.
Next step for me is the Dutch/cast iron cooking vessel.
Your "hearth-bread" is as elegant as I've seen.
San Francisco, California has garnered some fame for SF Sourdough breads. Just a few years ago, the yeast was elevated to varietal if not species, status.
Hence my curiosity. Saccharomyces cerviseae var. SFCA.
Next step for me is the Dutch/cast iron cooking vessel.
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