RECIPE #4: Amish Friendship Bread
Most people have heard of Amish Friendship Bread, even if they've never tried it. The process is kind of bizarre, but not difficult by any means. Traditionally, you receive a starter batch from someone you know. You work from there, and by the end you have three starter batches to hand out yourself. My own adventure began when I received a resealable freezer bag from a friend at work. It contained a mass of what looked like either rancid custard or a sample of Kenny Rogers' liposuction. As I discovered from the accompanying instructions, the starter contains flour, sugar, milk and some amount of active yeast that's been living in such batches for who knows how long. The note detailed all the steps, a ten-day process in total.
For five days, you do absolutely nothing with your starter except "mash in bag" once a day. It's good stress relief, and it keeps the yeast happily fermenting the sugar. A few days in, I came home to a bag that had puffed up with carbon dioxide and made the vicinity smell like a damn brewery, so I assumed it was working. On day five, you add a cup each of sugar, milk and flour, then continue the old "mash in bag" bit until you get to day ten, releasing the air from the bag so it doesn't pop and spill the bubbling sack of spookshow pus all over your nice, clean table.
Now you can actually make your bread, but first, you have to get some starter batches ready for your unsuspecting pals. You add yet another cup each of flour, sugar and milk, after which the instructions simply say, "stir." Since the instructions also advise not to use metal spoons or equipment (as well as to only use glazed ceramic or plastic bowls), I opted to go the trusty "mash in bag" route for this. You then meaure out three cups of the gunk, open three fresh resealable freezer bags and pour a cup into each of them. My starter batch conveniently had the inception date written on it, so I extended this courtesy for my hand-out bags. After photocopying the recipe, I handed off two and kept one for myself in order to run through the process a second time.
What's left in your bag is the base of your batter. To this, you add 3 eggs, 2 cups of flour, 1 cup of sugar, 1 cup of oil, 1/2 cup of milk, 2 teaspoons of cinnamon, 1 and 1/2 teaspoons of baking powder, 1 teaspoon of vanilla, 1/2 teaspoon of baking soda, 1/2 teaspoon of salt and one 5.1 oz. box of instant vanilla pudding. I mixed this with a rubber spatula, and it got thick very quickly. Next, the recipe says to grease 2 bread pans. In lieu of lard or Crisco, I sprayed some Pam in them and rubbed it over the entire inside surface, crossing my fingers that this would be sufficient (it was). The final step is to mix 1/2 cup of sugar with 2 teaspoons of cinnamon, 3/4 of which you sprinkle into the pans before adding the batter, the rest going on top of the batter just before baking. I had some of that coarser 100% cane sugar stuff left from February's bread pudding, and I saved it for this last step, understanding that the cinnamon-sugar sprinkle would form a little crust on the outside of the bread. You bake those puppies for an hour at 325 degrees, and you have your final delicacy.
While the inclusion of packaged pudding mix makes me doubt this tradition came entirely from the Amish, the bread you end up with is AWESOME. It's more like a cross between a huge muffin and coffee cake than something on which you'd make your favorite tunafish and Vegemite sandwich, and it's one of those foods that tastes like it takes much more effort than it actually requires. There are so many variations on the bread, you could really keep doing this forever. Since I have another starter batch that's maturing on Tuesday, I'm preparing to substitute chocolate pudding and add some almonds to the cinnamon/sugar sprinkle this time, which I'm sure will rock. Meanwhile, good luck to Christina and Bill on their own batches...
Hey, anyone want to make Amish Friendship Bread? This is the only pyramid scheme I've ever heard of that actually delivers. I'll have three starters available Tuesday night, so let me know. Finally, you need to buy this piece of brilliance right now:
posted by SoulReaper at 6:29 PM
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A "Real Cool Time" with Iggy and The Stooges
4/15/07 @ Congress Theatre, Chicago, IL
The Stooges stand at the intersection of classic rock and punk rock. Their sold out show at Chicago's Congress Theater Sunday night made a strong case that those classifications are not mutually exclusive.
On the cover of their new album, The Weirdness (Virgin), they're simply called "The Stooges," but for live performances, rhe godfathers of punk are currently billed as "Iggy and the Stooges." This billing makes sense, as vocalist Iggy Pop has been the most visible member in the years since they were active. However, it somewhat downgrades the contributions of drummer Scott Asheton (known to fans as "Rock Action") and guitarist Ron Asheton, brothers who were – and are - key to The Stooges' brand of sonic excess.
While their ragged energy laid the antagonistic foundations for punk rock, The Stooges began as a freaky electric blues rock band that was largely ignored or reviled during its initial existence. Returning as legends, these guys didn't have to put out an amazing new record, and they didn't.
Each of The Stooges has honed his craft and cleaned up his act over the years, so the newer material lacks the sense of fearless, drug-fueled spontaneity that infuses the first three records these guys made together. At times it tastes of sordid hair metal (a dated flavor still plaguing fellow Michigan native Alice Cooper), but The Weirdness is not without its moments of caveman rock charm, and the songs pick up energy in the live setting.
The previous studio album to bear the Stooges name (Raw Power) was released in 1973. Thus, this was the first chance a good percentage of Sunday's audience had to witness the band's legendary fury in the flesh. With a set list largely culled from the first two Stooges discs, none other than Mike Watt (once of The Minutemen and fIREHOSE) taking the bass slot and even Fun House-era saxophonist Steve Mackay joining the band for much of the set, it's hard to imagine anyone walking away disappointed.
Iggy Pop, who turns 60 on April 21, is perhaps the only long-haired man of his age still respected by all generations of punk fans. As more of a performer than an ideologue, he remains true to his legend as a first-rate wild man. It took all of a song and a half on Sunday before Iggy was straddling Watt's speaker cabinet, thrusting his hips and punching himself in abandon as "Down on the Street" throbbed below.
Iggy invited the crowd on stage for raucous sing-alongs of "Real Cool Time" and "No Fun." The ensuing throng of enthusiastic kids blocked the entire band except for Iggy, who appeared to be fighting off an invasion at the front of the stage. Both of those tunes are as simple as rock gets, but the tight groove and Ron Asheton's blazing solos made them transcendent.
The rhythm section pummeled "I Wanna Be Your Dog" into metallic rigidity, Ron's simple yet sinister riff working the crowd into a froth, Iggy prowling the stage radiating sexual danger. Scott's drums thundered like cannons kicking into the rollicking "TV Eye," while Watt made his presence known during the slinky slow-burn "Dirt."
Perhaps the most impressive segment of the evening came during the title track of Fun House and its apocalyptic free-noise denouement, "L.A. Blues." The Stooges' reputation for rock n' roll menace came together in a jazzy rhythm, Ron laying a searing solo in the skronky style that has influenced everyone from Thurston Moore to Kerry King, Mackay's saxophone adding the right amount of nocturnal sleaze, Iggy's primal howls punctuated by loose-limbed flailing, his pants seemingly staying up by virtue of the sweat soaking his lanky frame.
The Stooges' choice to conclude the set with a lot of newer tracks was curious. The too-dumb "She Took My Money" is no classic, weakened further by its placement between the brutalized "Bo Diddley" beat of "1969" and the battering boogie of "Not Right." However, "Little Electric Chair," which reunited Iggy with The Stooges on his 2003 album Skull Ring, proved a solid send-off, its brawny swing enlivened by Mackay's dirty sax hook. If these guys are living on their legend, their legend is arguably their live show - and that's still mighty impressive.
If nobody else has claimed it yet, I would love to get a batch of friendship bread.
It seems like the perfect way to break in our new oven, loaf pans and, well, kitchen.
Call or email me so we can set something up!
I'll be out of town this weekend, so I won't be able to "mash in bag" at the appropriate times. I'll take some of your next batch, though.
By the way, I think I like your chocolate/almond variant better than the original recipe. Another good substitute might be butterscotch and pecans.
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