Amish friendship “bread” gone wild March 30, 2008Posted by ourfriendben in recipes, Uncategorized, wit and wisdom.
Tags: Amazon parrot antics, Amish friendship bread update, batter gone bad
Silence Dogood here. I informed our friend Ben (over howls of protest) that it was time to take a break from the One-Ben Awards and give the rest of us a chance to get a word in edgewise. Besides, as I delicately pointed out, our friend Ben is on deadline, and it’s rather important to at least occasionally devote one’s self to something that could pay a few bills. So, our friend Ben, in the words of Plutarch the Parrot, “To work!”
Needless to say, we did not teach our yellow-naped Amazon parrot to order us around in this manner. We suspect that he spent too much time listening to the pet-store manager yelling at his staff before we found him. But whatever the case, even umpteen years later, we’re often greeted, inevitably after a particularly long and grueling day, with shrieks of “To work! To work! Get back to work!!!” followed by an assessing look and the pronouncement, “You look green.” Why thanks, Plu. You really know how to make a girl feel good.
Moving on from parrot-related insults, it’s time for an update on Amish friendship “bread” (in quotes because it’s actually a rich, delicious cake). You may recall from my earlier post, “Amish friendship ‘bread’,” that a couple of weeks ago our friend Ben and I allowed nostalgia to overwhelm what little sense we jointly possess, and accepted a bag of yeasted batter and directions for eventually turning it into the dreaded Amish friendship cake.
The directions instruct you to place the bag on the kitchen counter and squeeze it for five days to give the yeast a chance to do its work. But our friend Ben and I were about to depart for a week’s vacation in North Carolina, so I stashed the bag in the refrigerator instead. Admittedly, I felt few qualms about this, since Amish friendship bread’s reputation for replication is such that I felt that nothing short of a direct nuclear strike would shut it down for good.
When we returned from a lovely week off, I retrieved the bag of batter and placed it on the kitchen counter. Our friend Ben and I watched and squeezed it dutifully for five days, looking for signs of life. (Actually, our friend Ben insisted on doing most of the squeezing, a bit more enthusiastically than I thought was strictly necessary.) Finally, yesterday I was able to do something a bit more rewarding. Following instructions, I added a cup each of flour, sugar, and milk, to give the yeast something to work with. Our friend Ben squeezed the bag a few more times to mix the new additions into the existing batter, and we put the bag at the back of the kitchen counter.
After this excitement, our friend Ben trundled off to the greenhouse to do some puttering and muttering. I came in to the home office to write awhile on the computer. The dog and cats positioned themselves around me and promptly went to sleep. The bag of Amish friendship batter was forgotten. Forgotten, that is, until some time later when I heard a strange plopping, thumping noise coming from the direction of the kitchen. “Plurp!”
I headed off to investigate. Sure enough, the bag of Amish friendship batter had somehow dragged itself clear across the counter and leapt onto the floor. (Mercifully, the bag was unbroken.) Bemused, I replaced it on the back of the counter and went back to writing.
Oh my God. It’s ALIIIIVE!!!!!!!!!
Now, it’s true that Amish friendship batter technically is alive, since it contains live yeast. But no one I know of has ever suggested that it’s also mobile. As of this writing, I have the bag of batter barricaded behind two packages of cornmeal. So far, it hasn’t managed to escape. I’ll keep you posted.
‘Til next time,