various breads from the past month

Can you say Death Valley? There is nothing like a fresh bread in the morning, especially when the backdrop is like this. This was looking East/Northeast from our camp at the southern end of Hidden Valley in mid October. The day before I made up a pizza dough and we went on a gnarly hike, returning a little too spent to have too much for dinner. The dough became a pizza the night before, and morning rolls the next. They were white and fluffy on the interior with a nice matured sour that blended well with the grated parmesan in the dough. Considering that we were about forty miles from any paved road, they were pretty damn good if I say so myself. In fact, a bit of starter has now made it on about half dozen camping trips and is becoming a nice way to bring some "home" out doors. My friend's mom would call it my zinger.





Whole wheat with soy flour based on sourdough. This became a plain baguette and a little something called sharkie bread (the San Jose Sharks need a new mascot, what better way to blend our food with sports?) It had a light coating of seeds and a few slashes to augment the overall shape. Too bad it didn't make it long enough to be intact for the photo shoot.

I had just pulled the various breads from the oven and I spotted her. Fae Fae the lover of meatballs. She is a kenyan bread hound and is therefore seldom from sight of the kitchen. She can be seen with a few experiments based on a whole wheat with rye flour dough, sourdough of course. The S-shaped loaf is a contorted baguette roll that is stuffed with a celery-onion-mushroom and blue cheese mixture. The calzone is the same mix, minus the cheese, with some meatball pieces and a touch of red sauce. And then there is the pizza. It had the above mix, plus the cheese and meatball. All of it turned out nice, but I think I liked the calzone the best.



The last two days were filled with bread so I couldn't decide which to have the next morning. So I toasted a piece of the onion-celery-mushroom with blue stuffed baguette and then slathered it with butter, and toasted a piece of the plain baguette and put rasberry jam on top. The blue cheese contrasting with alternate bites of rasberry was like doing culinary calisthetics from sweet to savory and back again only to be repeated several more times.




After several days of sourdough I was hankerin' for something else in the bread department. So I worked on it by deciding corn bread would do the trick. I went out and purchased some organic blue corn meal to go with the eggs from the farmers market and straus milk in the fridge. I just HAD to double the recipe, so it became a round dished loaf and some muffins. With melted butter it hit the spot. And just because that last one was a bit crooked, I thought I should end with another, but make it from DV for some kind of symmetry to this one......

fine dining at 11,162 feet (approximately)

Sorry for not posting anything in the last few weeks, but I've been busy planning a trip into the Sierras to see big mountains and wildflowers like these, and do some fishing. Of course, I planned on bringing some sourdough starter, so I also had to do some experimental baking before taking off for the high country.


Pictured here is my "backpacker's oven" in the fancy granite kitchen of camp (without the fiberglass and asbestos cover, as my experiments at home didn't warrant the use of it.) Under the pan, hidden by the windscreen is a pepsi-can alcohol stove, fashioned at home before the trip. Nothing too fancy, but an art nonetheless in getting the results you want. As the finest cooks will tell you, practice, practice, practice.


I hiked out of the North Lake trailhead (near Bishop) with the intention of going up over Piute pass and into Humphreys basin with a destination of Desolation lake. Being as though the average elevation of the basin is about 11,000 feet, I knew it was going to be cold and I would want to cook some hearty food to nosh on (when the weather would cooperate that is.) I had been told that the fishing was great in the area, so naturally some fresh trout would be on the menu.

Talking to other backpackers on their way down, I heard reports that Tomahawk lake had plenty of brookies and a few goldens. Considering the weather, I aimed away from the barren realm of Desolation and found a place to hunker down at Tomahawk. That afternoon, I tried fishing, but my line was freezing up as it came out of the water and was forming icicles on the first eyelet of the pole. Not exactly fun fishing weather. I made some tea, ate a Lara bar and chocolate for dinner and decided to try my luck tomorrow.

The next morning after some hearty oatmeal and STRONG coffee, I got to fishin'. I let the first three go, and then after an hour or so of no luck, I vowed to keep the next one I caught. Luckily I hooked up with a nearly 14 incher. Before the fish became lunch it looked like this:



After being beheaded and cleaned, rubbed with chili, onion and garlic powder, as well as salt and pepper, and fried up in a pan, it looked something like this (I had already eaten the tail section before snapping the photo, so the fish did actually fill up more of the pan.)







Mmmmm........blackened brook trout. Now that IS tasty. So, that was lunch, what about dinner?









I had fed the starter I brought with me on the previous day, but the cold temperatures and hellacious wind had frozen it near solid during the night (ambient air temp was in the mid 20's when I got into the tent at 6:30 pm, with the windchill factored in, it was single digits!) After the delectable lunch, when things were nice and warm (we're talkin' 11,000 feet remember, so this means 60's) I kneaded some dough and placed it inside the tent on the black nylon of my sleeping bag to rise, with the door flap open and a shaft of sunlight striking the pan directly. This blocked what tiny breeze there was, and proved to be the warmest place around, so after a few hours my dough had risen at least 50% and was ready for some toppings.



That's half whole wheat dough with italian seasoning, as well as onion and garlic powder mixed in. One bag contained grated gruyere and parmesan (done with the world's smallest grater,) and the other pine nuts. The plastic cup holds a mix of reconstituted sundried tomatoes and wild mushrooms.










Baked, it was most excellent. In fact considering the view, and my appetite, it was one of the finest pizzas I have ever had.


It was such a nice day in the Sierra, I held up a slice, and toasted to the Glacier Divide to the South (that's Muriel Peak and Mt. Goethe for those who care,) vowing to recreate this pizza for whoever is brave enough (or is that CRAZY enough) to come on my next fine dining trip above timberline.




Thank you mountain gods, for allowing me to experience one of the nicest days of this fall in our heavenly Sierras.......