Last week we took a trip to the Ovens Valley and the Myrtleford Butter Factory. They make yummy, yummy butter.The closest thing I've ever tastest to the creamy, oh so salty, delicious on crusty baguette with honey type of butter that they make in Brittany. Unlike supermarket butter this batch churned, local, butter is nothing other than cream, salt and cultures, the good for your tummy kind of cultures that are killed off in the pasteurisation process. I was unaware that regular butter and other dairy foods had additives in them ( apparently the companies don't have to legally include this on their packaging) and have begun wondering if this has something to do with our dairy intolerance. Hmmm. It's lovely to know these people are just over the hills using milk from local girls, putting all that good stuff back into their product and doing so passionately.
We took the long way home winding up through the Stanley Forest where all the tall gums had been burnt in the fires three or four years back then on through the Stanley apple and walnut orchards.
I still dream about moving out this way some day. Next Summer we'll be back for berry picking.
It started raining steadily on the way home and my mind was already ticking over thinking about that crusty bread, fresh butter and honey scenario.
Later that evening, with rain still falling heavily, I ducked down to the store to get some of that crusty Milawa bread. Perfect for the little treat I'd brought home with us from the butter factory. It was Thursday, late night shopping, surely Jones the Grocer was still open. Driving past I could see the lights still on. By the time I'd parked the sign on the door said closed and the man behind the counter was adding up his till. I stood at the door, peering in, eyeing that bread I so desperately wanted. He looked up at me for a brief moment, standing there in the rain and then went back to his counting.
This urge to relive my breakfasts in France was not going to go away.
I returned home with some flour and yeast.
Following Alicia's tip off and with a bit of quick paper cutting and stapling thrown in, Zahra and I got to work.
It wasn't until the following afternoon that I pulled our crusty bread out of the oven.
Slatherings of salty butter mixed with sweet, raw, honey, a crunchy crust and a fluffy crumb, dipped in a cup of steaming, milky, dandelion tea.
Simple and satisfying.
I hope you too are enjoying the simple and good stuff in your day to day.
Cxo
