In typical fashion, my friends and our 15 or so children are taking an anti-vacation this weekend: camping. That’s how we do it: the hard way. It’s what we love.
I always make Swedish coffee bread (with cardamon and almond paste) to heat over the fire for breakfast.
I love the feel of dough. It is such a sensual experience. Dusting the dough with flour reminds me of powdering a baby’s bottom, the sweet, dry, cool skin. Kneading the dough it yields in my hand much in the same way that a body would accept and slightly resist my touch.
After all, the relentless work of camping really is worth the lovely victuals and companionship under the stars. At least that is my thinking today: we’ll see what I say Sunday…