the biblical hookup

Krystof the Baker.

Dmbvejb Tdiggfs on a Vogue cover.

Bakers and supermodels have, at best, a tenuous link. 

Unless a certain German supermodel happens to like a specific loaf of artisan bread made with a distinctive tasting ancient grain, perfected and handmade by a certain Polish baker and orders it in twice a week all the way from Norwich to London.

This is what we found out today.

Apparently Dmbvejb Tdiggfs (-1) places a standing order of 2 Kamut loaves a week with one of the London stockists and Krysztof has been making bread for her all this while.

Imagine, all this was possible, in a way because of Noah and his ark. Kamut is the trademark name for an ancient wheat called khorasan. It's origin is not known but as far as legends go, this was the grain Noah brought along with him in the ark.

Khorasan grain has a slight hump.

Today is the day you will know Noah as the man who saved the animals and the ancient grain Kamut / khorasan, whereas for us, it is only right that we re-christian the humble Kamut loaf as the Supermodel bread.

Of course we wouldn't be using this fact to sell more bread, that'll be too disrespectful and far too presumptuous. But it'll be ok to let this be one of the highlights of a man's 20 year baking career, wouldn't it?

play dough.

For those who have wondered about it, this is what I do all day...

... I plunge my hands into huge bins of dough...

...stick my fingers into them whenever I can...

...feel the smooth huge air pockets that come up on top...

...stick my finger into them to see how much they can take before they burst...

...pull dough apart to look at gluten strings inside and be tempted to mash them up...

...feel how bouncy and bloated it is after it has proofed...

...throw lots of flour around a big table throughout the day...

...roughly slap some dough together to make rustic looking bread...

This is how these country crust rolls are made - 

First take a pile of flour and a lump of dough. 

Split the dough in half. 

Flatten each half.

Dump them into the pile of flour.

Make sure both sides are completely covered in flour.

Don't shake off flour.

Pile each one on top of the other.

Roll them towards you.

Flatten with hand.

...handle delicate soft dough with a lot of water like the pugliese...

This is so soft, rounding has to be done in the hand rather than on the table. The skin is gently stretched and pulled in opposite directions, both the ends tucked into the hand holding the dough and squeezed together.

...make lots of shapes out of it...

...and some days, do it several hundred times over...

...after handling the dough about, I roll it in lots of other things...

...or sprinkle stuff on top...

...and then I might slash them across with a sharp knife...

...or cut different patterns into them.

That is roughly what I do all day.

It should feel like work but it rarely does.

It feels like I get dropped off every morning to go to play for a few hours.

plucked up some courage.

I did it.

It was not pleasant at the beginning - the pigeon had been in the fridge, it was cold to the touch, the primary feathers had to come out one at a time, they each needed a bit of a tug to come loose, the smaller ones were much easier to pull out and could be done in small clumps, but the problem was the delicate skin could come out along with it too, which was what happened. I ripped part of the skin off.

Very glad when it was all over. I probably will not be cleaning it again soon but I will definitely be eating it.

Pigeon meat is a bit of a mix for me. It's very tender, has a slight powdery texture like liver does, light and not gamey at all. It tastes somewhere in between very good duck and lamb. Could not get enough. 

Salt and pepper seasoning. Oven roasted at 190C for 8 minutes.

We used only the breast fillets.
The rest of the bird went into the stock pot.

Pigeon breasts with a mix of warm puy lentils, broad beans, peas, sugar beets, salad leaves, blackberry vinegar dressing.

there is a pot for everything.

They laugh at me all the time.

Not because I'm Asian but because of the size I come in.

I'm too small for the kitchens. Working in them means I have to stand on pots to stir bechamel sauce, grate, slice, knead and do whatever else there is.

Directions : 
Pots - to be placed over stoves and under my feet.  

I needed the height to knead pie pastry...

...and do some other jobs.

packed off to the farm.

A few weeks ago I spent the weekend with Stuart's mum, Tanya, who lives on a farm. It's a small farm but great in many ways. Here's why :

...the farm is known as The Old Nags Head.

For a long time everybody called it that and I thought that was what they referred Stuart's mum to as, rudely and affectionately, including Stuart himself.

Until I saw the mail and that is what it is called. Officially.

...it's an old crooked wooden frame house.
None of the wooden beams are straight, yet the house is more sturdy than the brick one Stuart lives in.  And everything in the house is really old.

The crooked house.

Part of the Kitchen.

Pots, Jugs and various kitchen utensils hanging off the kitchen ceiling.

The chest is straight and upright. The floors and the walls, not.

See how much it leans to the right?

The room I stayed in.

Has a tiny little corner.

The Pantry.

Jars and jars of homemade stuff.

Lots of interesting things to find.

...I can eat off the land.

And there is so much available - I can munch on tomatoes, beans, berries and whatever else there is. Going out for a bite takes on a new meaning.

Snow peas.

Raspberries.

Gooseberries.

Red currants.

Stuart came back one day with a butter tub of these.
They are called sweet peas for a reason.
Unbelievably sweet when they are fresh.

Potatoes were ready, so we dug them up.

We cut up some french beans from the garden.

Minced beef, garlic, onion - all from the farm.
And some homemade fruit wine. 

This was our dinner.

Pears and apples about to be ready soon.
Can't wait for harvesting.

We are going to send the apples to be pressed into apple juice
but there will be lots more left.

Plums are ripe and ready now.

Yellow plums.

...I am surrounded by even more food books, some of them as good as the ones Stuart has and some of them older than I am.

Part of her bookshelf in the kitchen.

Her books have covers like this.

And ads like these.

And model housewives who looked like this drawing.

And gave other housewives advice like this.

Reading about how things were done in the past was nice.

Cookbooks don't come like this anymore.

This was me reading one of her many Elizabeth Davids outside the house.

...Tanya makes really good fruit wine which I just cannot get enough of and the stash is there.

3 of her numbered and dusty bottles I managed to get away with - for now.
The white one is made with apples and the dark ones are berries with parsnip.