It wasn’t often that Grandpa Asher went to the village. However, he could no longer ignore the rapidly increasing problem of an empty cellar, and only yesterday had he run out of flour, an ingredient he considered to be essential. It was time to restock.
Usually a dull task for other people, buying groceries was something that Grandpa Asher considered to be exciting. Who knew what hidden recipe would appear in his head when he saw all that the day’s market had to offer?
He woke up just after dawn and cooked a cozy breakfast of eggs and bacon on his favorite cast-iron skillet. He sat down to eat at the table by the kitchen, reading a chapter from his Bible. In his opinion, there were few better ways to start the day.
Once the sun had sufficiently risen over the mountains, he donned his leather jacket and went outside to fetch the two-wheeled wooden cart; he always used it to carry what he could not on journeys like the one he was about to embark on. With one final glance at his picturesque home in the woods, he started on down the road toward the village.
The walk was warm and brisk. With spring having taken root just a few weeks before, animals were scampering about from shade to sunspot, serving as distractions for the man as he traveled. The dirt path was still crisped with ice in some parts and mud in others, producing a satisfying slosh-crunch as his hiking boots beat rhythmically into the ground. It wasn’t long before he started whistling a jubilant tune in time with his steps.
After cresting a hill, the village came into view. Trees parted down below to reveal the squares of city life, spreading out in all four directions and arranged into neat lines. The houses were white and brown, tall and short, some with coned towers, and all with gleaming windows. As Grandpa Asher walked down the hill, he readily expected to see familiar faces arise from the windows to greet him, but he found that none bothered to do so. In fact, the town seemed void of any life at all when he first entered the village gates. The streets were empty and all was mysteriously quiet.
It was only after walking three blocks into town that his ears picked up the faint sounds of people talking together. Upon walking another three blocks, the faint sounds transformed into a roaring tumult.
Grandpa Asher could only gawk in bewilderment as he ambled into the single greatest marketplace he had ever seen. It was as though every farmer in the area had convened into one giant hub of buying and selling. Looking around he saw that those he had expected to greet him earlier were picking their way through the many fruit and vegetable stands. No better time was there to go grocery shopping than today.
A list was produced from his pocket. ‘Apples & Pears’ was written at the top, and he quickly spotted a nearby stand with those kinds of fruits in it. He toted his cart toward it and helped himself to a hefty bag of each fruit, dropping some silver coins into the greengrocer’s hand. Still amazed by the sheer number of people bustling around, he trekked farther into the market.
Glancing down at the list again, he saw that ‘potatoes, eggs, sugar, onions, salt, cheese, crème fraîche, flour, & yeast’ were his next targets. As he shopped, he couldn’t help but notice that people from out of town were present, along with a selection of people that he had never seen in his life. What a spectacle to behold, all of these people drawn together in the middle of town for the sake of food! No doubt it was a planned conference that he hadn’t been informed of – a festival of some sort.
Almost all of the things on his list had been piled generously into the cart, so much that it began dangerously squeaking in objection to the weight. There remained only one more ingredient needed: flour.
It was midday now, and the crowds were still swarming, encouraged by vendors who had prepared lunches to sell. Grandpa Asher, whose bacon and egg breakfast had long worn off, joined in search of a meal. Despite all the options, nothing, in particular, caught his attention until a wonderful smell enticed him to enter a small red and white striped tent.
“Oi, you there! Come and try a fresh loaf! One of these beauties for eighty cent,” said a portly-looking man in a dirty white tank top who apparently owned the tent.
Smiling, Grandpa Asher replied, “My nose is telling me I should tell you yes, so why not?”
The man returned a bigger, toothy smile that also exposed his lack of dental hygiene.
“Lovely.”
He ducked below a small table that was set up and arose with a steamy loaf of bread. He handed it to Grandpa Asher and grunt-pointed at some butter and jam that were stationed at the end of the table. Asher thanked the man, grabbed the condiments, and spread them onto torn bits of the loaf.
He placed the first bit of bread into his mouth not expecting very much, but he was pleasantly surprised by the sudden eruption of flavor. The jam was fine and the butter mediocre, but the bread was uncommonly enjoyable. Out of bliss and hunger he finished the rest.
“You like?” the man asked.
“Undeniably so.” replied Grandpa Asher, wiping crumbs from his mouth.
“Tell me, did you bake the bread?”
“Oh yes, cooked ‘em myself not but an hour ago. Marvelous little slabs, aren’t they?”
“I agree. You see, I consider myself to be quite the home cook, never endeavoring to set up a shop like you have here, and I almost cannot contain my question; would you be willing to share your recipe with me? It would be safe, as I pride myself on being an excellent secret-keeper.”
The man’s expression changed from cheerful to deeply irritated in a matter of seconds. One of his eyebrows raised to a height that would not have been thought possible, and his eyes were now noticeably crossed. His face seemed permanently stuck like this and it didn’t change for about a minute. Grandpa Asher could only stare, waiting for an answer that he knew would likely crush his hopes. He felt sorry that he had asked, and believed his question to have been a violation of the man’s pride.
Just before it got to the point where Grandpa Asher thought the man had suffered a stroke, his face relaxed, and he spoke.
“Yeah, sure.”
Grandpa Asher breathed an audible sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized it, but he had been holding his breath.
“Are you from this village?” the man asked.
“I live just outside of it.”
“Good. I’m from a town miles southward, so I suppose there’s no harm in giving you me recipe, but I have faith that you won’t go spreading it around.”
At that thought, the irritated look began to creep over his face again, but before it could take full effect, Grandpa Asher swiftly replied,
“You have my word. I won’t tell anyone.”
The man smiled his edentulous smile again and pulled out a pen and parchment. Upon it he wrote,
Ingredients: water, yeast, bread flour, whole wheat flour, and granulated salt
- Combine 150g of water, 30-50 granules (or a small pinch) of yeast, and 150g of bread flour into a small bowl with a container. Stir the mixture thoroughly and then put the lid on the bowl. Let the bowl sit at room temperature for 4-24 hours, preferably the full 24 hours.
- Once mixture has sat, place it into a medium bowl and add 250g of warm water along with 2g of instant yeast. Mix together with your hands.
- Add 12g of salt, 50g of whole wheat flour, and 400g of bread flour. Use a metal or strong wooden spoon to mix together. Now wet down your hand and mix the dough further.
- Once well mixed, cover the bowl and let the dough rise for 2 hours. Once thirty minutes have passed into the 2 hours, remove the lid and fold handfuls of the edges of the dough (with a wet hand) into the center. Make sure to stretch the dough into the air so that the gluten is loosened. Do this about 7 times. Once folded, round the dough into the rough shape of an oval by tucking the folds underneath. Wait 30 more minutes and repeat the folding maneuvers.
- After the 2 hours, place dough onto a floured surface and moderately flatten it out, popping any large air bubbles. Shape dough into a square shape and cut down the middle.
- Place two halves of dough onto a metal baking sheet with parchment paper. Cover the sheet for 1 hour and let rise.
- After dough has risen, preheat an oven to 480° and bake bread for 20 minutes.
“There be one of my best kept secrets. Use it wisely.” Said the man, handing over the parchment.
Grandpa Asher tried to take it from his hand but it didn’t budge until the second try.
“Thank you. Would you also happen to have some flour? I’m in need…”
* * *
The sun was halfway hidden behind the trees when Grandpa Asher left the village. Its last rays lay spattered on the dusty ground as hundreds of people made their way back to their houses. Those who had traveled from different towns went toward the village’s various inns while others made for their horses and carriages. The day had been a success.
Grandpa Asher journeyed slowly but steadily, the now even heavier cart doing everything in its power to prevent him from getting home. At last, his eyes fell upon the familiar shape of his cabin.
The food was promptly unloaded and put away into the proper stores, all except a portion of beef, onion, and crème fraîche. These would be used to make dinner.
Pushing through the day’s fatigue, Grandpa Asher expertly whipped together a delectable supper in a matter of minutes. Few people he knew of possessed such a vast mental index of how to operate a kitchen than he; and an even lesser number of those who knew how to cook as artfully.
Inspired by the fresh spring weather and all the foods he had seen at the market, he made this dish..
Red Pesto Steak with Pasta & Peppers
Ingredients: 450g sirloin steak, 375g pasta twists, 1 small red onion, 1 red pepper (bell pepper, jalapeño, etc.) finely sliced, 150g prepared red pesto sauce, 150ml hot vegetable stock, 8 tbsp. crème fraîche (or sour cream), 2 tbsp. chopped parsley as a garnish, 1 tbsp. sunflower oil, and granulated salt.
- Fill a large pot three-quarters full with water. Add 5 tsp of granulated salt and boil the water. Once boiling add the pasta and let it cook for about 12 minutes (or for however long the pasta package says to boil). Be careful not to over or undercook the pasta. Stir the pasta regularly, especially at the beginning of cooking to ensure it does not stick together.
- Pour oil into a large frying pan and then place the steak in it too. Cook the steak until your preference (4 minutes on each side for medium cooked steak). You’ll know the pan is hot enough for the steak if water easily evaporates. Once the steak is cooked, cut it into thin slices, keeping it in the same pan.
- In the same pan as the steak, put the chopped onion in it along with the pepper. Cook the pepper for 2-3 minutes and the onion until soft. Do not brown the onion.
- Now stir in the pesto, vegetable stock, and crème fraîche (or sour cream). Right after this, stir in the cooked pasta and let simmer for 2-3 minutes.
- Now dish up and put some of the parsley on top. Voilà!
