Saturday, August 25, 2012

camp oven bread

I never thought I would see the day when a camp oven arrived in our midst - I certainly wasn't going to haul a cast iron beast over in my luggage - but our neighbour Gerry had a spare ten kilograms in his allocation and visions of roast chicken in the coals.  I come from a long lineage of bush cooks, able to turn out a three course gastronomic event in the desert; and while I have witnessed, sampled and assisted many camp oven cook ups, until now, I was never alone with the coals. The in-laws were missing their daily slice of Yallingup woodfired sourdough, and I thought I might win friends and influence people with a hot loaf of olive and basil focaccia to accompany the daily salad. It had been over a month since my last intoxicating dough moment in Italy, and boy, was this good.  

1 comment:

thanks for taking the time

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