I went on a cruise, and the day I got back, my friend Liz handed me this:
It was a bag of mushed brown substance. “It’s a starter for bread” she insisted. I was skeptical. A bag of mush? What a welcome home. She claimed to have gotten it from a friend, who got it from her brother, who received it from a neighbor. So, not only was it a bag of mush, it was an OLD bag of mush (as Jeff pointed out.)
So I brought it home. And stared at it a little. Jeff said, “What is THAT?” and I answered, “Starter.” And he stared back, like I had brought home an alien. Poor guy.
The weirdest part about this whole situation was that the bag came with instructions. Simple ones. That said, “Mush the bag, mush the bag.” Think I’m lying?
I am not. Mush the bag. That’s it. What kind of instructions are THAT?
So I mushed. And I added on the sixth day. And on the seventh day, there was no rest. There was more mushing. But, on the tenth day, there was fermented-smelling mush to then pour into a bowl.
So I did what it said. I added flour.
And I added sugar.
And it all began to sink.
And I got bags out, to pass the Amish Friendship Bread along to four more unsuspecting friends, who would be equally confused and slightly terrified when receiving a bag of mush. With directions.
Then I finished putting the bread together — cinnamon, mainly. And when it was done, I literally didn’t even have a chance to take a picture before half of it was gone to Andrew and Corelyn (Andrew loves Amish Friendship bread, and had a hard time waiting the ten days.)
Mainly, I had a problem taking a picture because my kitchen looked like this:
Because being who I am, I decided that making muffins at the same time was a great idea. I am sure I have photos of the blueberry muffins somewhere, although Jeff gobbled those up pretty quickly, too, but I’ll see what I can do for you. The bread is slowly being chipped at, like good banana bread, and Corelyn and I have been saved a few breakfast disasters with it. Doesn’t taste fermented at all, but more like really good cinnamon bread. Mmm mmm just the way I like it.
Most of you know that if we lived closer, I would have given you a starter bag of Amish mush. But, since we live so far apart, I will leave you with this, so you can start your own chain.