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desperanceI am making ship's biscuit for Talk Like Stephen Maturin, Cook Like Preserved Killick Day (which it is Sunday, since you ask).
It's a wonderfully sophisticated process. Mix flour, salt and water into a very stiff dough, then beat seven kinds of hell out of it - they recommend a mallet; I am using a rolling pin - until it is smooth and pliable. It'll take half an hour, they reckon. Me, I am taking it more slowly, and givingmyself the dough a chance to rest between bashings. Even so: oof. I haven't been so vigorous for years. My poor hands will probably regret this.
Happily, now that I have no teeth, I'm not obliged to eat the stuff afterwards. I'm expecting it to come out like Roman roof tiles. It's very odd, making food that's really not for eating. (I plan to break a couple of 'em into crumbs - if indeed they can be broken - and use those in the lobscouse, so neither the biscuits nor my labour will be wasted; but really I'm only doing this for science.)
I had some other news, but I don't remember it. Pardon me, I have to go and bash stuff now.
It's a wonderfully sophisticated process. Mix flour, salt and water into a very stiff dough, then beat seven kinds of hell out of it - they recommend a mallet; I am using a rolling pin - until it is smooth and pliable. It'll take half an hour, they reckon. Me, I am taking it more slowly, and giving
Happily, now that I have no teeth, I'm not obliged to eat the stuff afterwards. I'm expecting it to come out like Roman roof tiles. It's very odd, making food that's really not for eating. (I plan to break a couple of 'em into crumbs - if indeed they can be broken - and use those in the lobscouse, so neither the biscuits nor my labour will be wasted; but really I'm only doing this for science.)
I had some other news, but I don't remember it. Pardon me, I have to go and bash stuff now.