Our daily bread
This morning I was roped into a conspiracy to bring western culture to Yunnan. Specifically whole wheat bread.A friend of ours from Thailand once said of rice that it "fills his soul". Well, for us, that soul filler is bread. I think I might of mentioned that we've only found one source for bread here--a supermarket a half hour's walk away. It's okay, as far as bread goes. A bit too sweet for my tastes, but beggars can't be choosers. I was pretty much resigned to eating this stuff for the next two years. But then, our next door neighbor, Joan, knocked on the door.
Joan, from all accounts, is quite willing to break the prime directive and try and change a few things here. Apparently she has a scheme to try obtain some whole wheat bread out in the hinterlands. She came by this morning to tell us that Thad, the ever helpful dean of the English department, was going to be taking her out to the mill today to obtain some whole wheat flour. Her plan was to get the flour from the mill and then get one of the local bakeries to bake her up some loaves. Apparently she and her husband Michael had attempted some baking with their microwave oven, using flour purchased in the provincial capitol. Not quite soul filling. So hence her attempt to involve others in her quest for bread.
Anyway, she invited us to become partners in this venture, so without much forethought we said we'd come along with her. Actually, Yau Neih was going to be sitting in on a class, so it was just me and the girls who tagged along. Our ride, the official college SUV, soon arrived and we rushed out of the door. We first had to run a couple of errands--a common occurrence when you beg rides from people--and then we headed out of town. Distance-wise, it wasn't that far. But what a difference a kilometer or so makes. We turned off of the highway onto a dirt road. To say it was a washboard road would have been a unwarranted compliment. The last time I was on such a road was when we were headed to a trailhead in the Olympic National Park. (Actually, the park road was better.) Around us were fields and pools of water, small wood and brick shacks and, of all things, a military base.
We arrived at the mill--a large barn-like building--and climbed out of the truck. A group of soldiers were sitting on the ground nearby and were giving us that typical "who let the big noses in here" look. I imagine I would do the same if I saw a foreigner in such an out of the way place. In one sense, the mill is nothing exciting. About an eighth of the building is a grain bin, and on the other side of the building are about five or six milling machines. There were two guys (or was it three? I really should have bothered to count) working the machines, and one lady who seemed to be in charge. Thad discussed things with her and eventually she brought out a handful of flour. Joan and Thad inspected it (They showed it to me, but what do I know about flour?) and deemed it acceptable. The mill lady then provided us with a nice pile of flour (10 lbs, maybe?) in a huge sack. She seemed to want to refuse payment, but Joan tried to pay her 20 yuan. (that's $2.50 US) The mill lady balked vociferously and finally accepted 10. Thad later suggested that her generosity stemmed from the fact that Thad's mother-in-law is a noodle manufacturer and a customer. So anyway we tossed our precious flour sack into the back of the SUV and made our way back to town. As we bumped along, Joan asked Thad what the mill usually did with this fine, whole wheat flour. "Pig food" was the reply. We all had to laugh at that one.
There was some discussion as to our next step. Thad was inclined to take the flour to the supermarket that is our current bread supplier. ("Wall Market", he calls it.) Joan was thinking more along the lines of an independent bakery. Her will prevailed, so the driver headed to a nice bakery in a nice section of town. It smelled delicious, as we walked in with our sack of pig fodder. It reminded me of good ol' Lichter's Bakery, back home in Illinois. (Note to self: try to get some of that butter pecan coffee cake, next time you visit the folks) The manager, however, was not willing to be our bread supplier. Nothing personal, it was just that it didn't seem to be enough profit in it. We started heading back to the college to inquire at the cafeteria when Joan mentioned a bakery a few blocks from the school. We detoured there and once again unloaded our precious sack. Unfortunately, at that same moment, Thad got a phone call and he ducked into an alley. So Joan confronted this bakery manager directly with our request. Unfortunately, Joan's Mandarin vocabulary is only twice as much as mine and we ended up waiting a couple minutes for Thad to finish his call. This bakery was not as aromatic as the other, but the cookies sure looked good.
Anyway, Thad soon finished up and was able to be our interpreter. It took a phone call to the bakery lady's superior, but they agreed to take on our task and asked Joan for the recipe she desired. She hadn't brought it along, but gave a rough outline from memory. I had a brief moment of doubt, wondering if I had made a mistake in joining this venture. But then I figured that everyday brings a new taste here, so what's a couple loaves of possibly not so good bread? Besides, if we can find the flour and baker, we can always work on the recipe. Of course, I will wait until tomorrow, after we sample our loaves, before I start designing the marketing materials for our new brand of bread.
posted by John @ 6:55 AM
<< Home