Page 60 of A Merry Irish Christmas
‘Are you okay on boats?’ she asked as they turned back towards the house.
‘I haven’t spent much time on them, but I think I’m fine.’
It was good to get some fresh air and exercise after all the rich food and sitting around yesterday. But a cold wind had whippedup while they were walking and Mary was looking forward to the vegging out on the sofa portion of the day. She was glad to get back to the cosy warmth of the house.
‘Do you still want that bread-making lesson?’ she asked Evan when they’d taken off their coats.
‘Absolutely. And you have to do it – it’s on the chart.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not trying to back out of it.’ She had a feeling it was going to be fun teaching Evan. ‘Why don’t we do it now, and then we’ll have the rest of the day to eat leftovers and watch movies?’
‘Sounds good.’
In the kitchen, Mary took a big mixing bowl from the cupboard and placed it on the worktop in front of him. ‘So we need wholemeal flour, bread soda, salt and buttermilk,’ she said, searching in the cupboards. She found the ingredients and put them on the counter next to the bowl.
‘Buttermilk? Do you think I’ll be able to find that in New York?’
‘Come on. You can find anything in New York.’
‘That’s true.’
‘But it doesn’t matter if you can’t.’ Her mother almost always had a good supply of buttermilk in the house, but even she sometimes ran out, so Mary knew there were plenty of acceptable substitutes. ‘You just need something acidic to react with the bread soda. So you could use natural yoghurt or even milk soured with some lemon juice.’
‘Look at you being all resourceful! You’re like a frontier woman or something. You’d have been a useful addition to a wagon train. Okay, what else do we need?’
‘Nothing. These are the ingredients.’
‘Seriously? That’s it?’
She nodded. ‘That’s it. You can add other stuff, if you like –some porridge oats, other grains, seeds – anything you want really. There are all sorts of variations. But this is basically all you need.’
Evan rolled up his sleeves and she handed him a wooden spoon. ‘Okay, mix all the dry ingredients together first.’
‘How much flour?’
Mary shrugged. ‘About half that packet should make a decent-sized loaf.’
‘You don’t weigh it?’
‘Mum always made it by sight, so that’s how I learned. There are loads of recipes online if you want to be more accurate. But half that packet is five hundred grams.’
Bread making was a great idea, Mary mused, as she watched Evan stirring in the bread soda and salt. It gave her the perfect excuse to stare at his strong, lean forearms. She handed him the carton of buttermilk.
‘How much of this stuff?’ He started pouring it gingerly into the flour.
‘Keep going. You want enough to make a soft dough, but not too wet. Mix it with the spoon and then go in with your hands to bring it together at the end. It’ll give you a better feel for the consistency.’
He had beautiful hands, with long, elegant fingers, and as she watched him work the dough, she couldn’t help imagining those hands working her. It was a pity soda bread didn’t require much kneading because she could watch this for hours. When he was done, she tipped the dough out onto the floured worktop and showed him how to shape it into a round, then she cut a deep cross in the top.
‘Wow! I can’t believe how easy that was,’ he said, brushing flour from his hands as Mary slid the loaf into the oven. ‘When will it be ready?’
‘It takes about half an hour.’ She glanced at the clock. It was almost one. ‘Why don’t we make lunch while we’re waiting? Then when it’s done, we’ll be all set for an afternoon of slobbing out in front of the TV.’
They made leftover sandwiches and chatted idly while they waited for the bread to bake.
‘It smells amazing,’ Evan said when Mary slid it out of the oven.
She showed him how to test that it was baked by tapping on the crust. ‘When it has that hollow sound, that means it’s done.’ She grabbed a clean tea towel and wrapped the bread in it, then propped it up by the window.
