Operation AFB Drop

9:10am

I have successfully made the drop. But this adventure was not without suspense:

By some marvelous stroke of fortune, I did make it out of the house at 8:15 this morning. This entailed leaving the gym a little earlier than usual, hurrying through my ablutions, and taking the “other” bus to work.

I had to take the “other” bus because I discovered that my camera was out of batteries, which added an unanticipated trip to Walgreens to The Plan. I had a few options:

Option 1: I would normally take the 36 bus, which drops me closest to Dunkin’ Donuts. But if I took the 36 and went to DD, I would have to walk a block past my work to get to Walgreens, and then double back. Not a good option.

Option 2: I could take the 22 bus, which drops me right on the corner at Walgreens. Across the street is another Dunkin’ Donuts, but this particular DD serves burnt coffee. I was willing to make the sacrifice, but as I approached the bus stop, a packed 22 raced past the six or seven people who were already waiting at the stop.

Option 3: I crossed the park to the bus stop in front of the zoo. At this stop, I have my choice of the 151 or the 156. The 151 takes a glamorous route down Michigan Avenue, but drops me off three blocks from work, and nowhere near a Walgreens.

Option 4: The 156 was the perfect choice: it drops me off right at a corner with yet another Dunkin’ Donuts (this one has good coffee, but it’s a whole 4 cents more expensive than the other two DD down the street). When walking to work from this DD, I pass the Walgreens. Perfect.

(And F says I overthink things.)

After Dunkin’ Donuts and Walgreens, I snuck in the back entrance at work and made it up the elevator without encountering any of my co-workers. According to plan, I photocopied the Amish Friendship Bread (AFB) instructions and attached them to the dough bags. Before I even changed into my high heels, I scuttled into the kitchen, hurriedly set up my dough bags, and arranged the AFB on a serving basket.Just as I had stepped away from the bread and was gathering the dishcloth and tinfoil I had used to transport the goods, an intern appeared. She looked at the bread then looked at me. I said hello, perhaps a little too enthusiastically for 9am, and bolted out the door. I didn’t even have the chance to take a photo. That part would have to wait.

I did my morning work routine—changed into heels, stopped in the rest room to fix my windblown hair, turned on my computer, and signed into my e-mail. Only then did I stuff my camera into my pocket, grab my coffee and oatmeal, and head to the kitchen. No one was there! And someone (the intern?) had already taken a chunk of bread.I took some photos and, relieved, made my breakfast. Now I’m sitting back at my desk, eager to know if my bread is being nibbled. I will check back every few hours and document the state of the AFB with photos. Although I do not anticipate anyone taking my four bags of starter dough, the bread is great and it looks nice, too. I anticipate that it will be gone by the end of the day.

9:58am

It has moved! My dough and loaf are now atop the microwave, where first I discovered the AFB approximately ten days ago. One of my dough bags is gone, and the loaf is 2/3 eaten! Hurrah!
This may be the final photo of the day, since the bread is nearly gone and the dough bags obviously don’t make for captivating photography.

10:15am

Only crumbs remain. This concludes the Amish Friendship Bread series.

Day 10: The Goo Becomes a Loaf

5:30pm

Today is the day! It’s time to bake the Amish Friendship Bread (AFB). I just got home from work and I’m ready to go.

While the oven preheats to 350 degrees:

Pour the entire contents of the bag into a (non-metal) bowl, then add 1 ½ cups flour, 1 ½ cups sugar, and 1 ⅓ cups milk and mix well (using a non-metal utensil). I belatedly realized that this recipe should tell you to mix the flour and sugar together then gradually add to the batter, alternating with the milk. In my eagerness to be done with this project, however, I dumped everything into the bowl at once, which resulted in some very clumpy dough.

I measured four separate clumpy dough batters of 1 cup each into 4 one-gallon freezer bags. These are new AFB starters, which I may present to my friends if I choose to share.When mixing the following ingredients into the remaining dough, I did remember to combine the dry ingredients in one bowl and the wet ingredients in another bowl, and then alternate adding the wet and dry ingredients to the batter.Wet mix: 3 eggs, ½ cup milk, ½ tsp. vanilla, 1 cup oil (1 whole cup! I’m definitely giving this bread away to work people)

Dry mix: 1 cup sugar, 2 tsp. cinnamon, 1 ½ tsp. baking powder, ½ tsp. salt, 2 cups flour, 3 small instant vanilla pudding packets

Mix well.I used one 9” x 5” loaf pan and one 8” x 4” loaf pan. I poured the large loaf first, then added chocolate chips to the remaining batter and filled the small loaf pan. I sprinkled the tops of both with cinnamon and sugar.6:00pm

Into the oven for an hour.

7:00pmBehold, the bread. F had a piece of the chocolate chip loaf for dessert, and gave it rave reviews. I also snuck a few crumbs (which probably added up to a generous piece), and I agree that it really is delicious. It had better be, with all that sugar and a full cup of oil! Although this is called Amish Friendship Bread, let’s not fool ourselves: it’s cake.

Since I do not need two loaves of cake, or four bags of cake dough, I will bring the four bags and the large, plain loaf to work tomorrow. I am hoping that the finished and delicious AFB loaf will help to make the goo bags more desirable to my co-workers. But my decision to share with my colleagues poses some logistical difficulties. I must anonymously set up my AFB display in the work kitchen, and photographically document its popularity (or lack thereof) throughout the day. But how will I carry out the AFD drop without being seen?

The Plan:
8:15am Leave the house
8:20am Catch the bus (assuming it’s on time)
8:35am Get off the bus downtown
8:40am Dunkin' Donuts for coffee
8:45am Get to work
8:47am Remove coat and hat
8:48am Make photocopies of AFB instructions
8:50am Write start date on instructions and attach instructions to each of the dough bags
8:55am Enter kitchen. Close both doors so no one can sneak up on me.
8:56am Arrange AFB on counter with dough bags
8:58am Take photos
9:00am Be back at my desk and nonchalant by start of day

Of course, the execution of this plan depends on a number of factors: whether I can really leave the house at 8:15 (no matter how hard I try to leave early, I always end up leaving at exactly 8:36 every morning), the timeliness of the bus, the length of the line at Dunkin' Donuts, the duration of the wait for the elevator at work, and, most importantly, the number of co-workers I must avoid on the way to the kitchen.

Now it is time to get some rest. I have a big day tomorrow.

Day 9: Amish Friendship Bread

Day 8: Amish Friendship Bread

Day 7: Amish Friendship Bread

Upon reflection, the Amish Friendship Bread series is pretty dull. But since we only have three days left, we will see this dough become a loaf and be done with it.

The Promised Photo: Day 5, Amish Friendship Bread

Yellow!

Day 5: Amish Friendship Bread

My camera is on the fritz today, so I will post a photo of Day 5 as soon as humanly possible. In the meantime, rest assured that our dough looks exactly the same today as it did yesterday. But if you can guess the color of the placemat in the impending photo, I'll send you a cookie.

Day 4: Amish Friendship Bread

Although it is technically Day 4 of the recipe, this is only my second day with this bread because it sat neglected on the counter in my work kitchen for the first few days of its life. So we will skip the "Mush the bag" directions specific to Days 2 and 3, and go straight to "Mush the bag" on Day 4.

This morning, the dough looks much the same as it did yesterday morning. The only difference is the color of the placemat it is resting on.

Stay tuned to see what changes tomorrow bring (and the color of the placemat I decide to use).

Amish Friendship Bread

There is a disgusting bag of goop in the work kitchen this morning. It’s runny and leaking out of its plastic bag onto the microwave upon which it has been placed by an anonymous co-worker. A post-it attached to the bag reads: “For the taking,” accompanied by a sheet of the following typewritten instructions:

Amish Friendship Bread Starter Mix
Do not use any type of metal bowl or spoon.
Do not refrigerate; will slow yeast reaction.
If air gets into bag, let it out; also, vent gas produced occasionally. It is normal for batter to rise, bubble and ferment.

Day 1 (Jan 25)-Do nothing; this is the day you receive the batter.
Day 2-Mush the bag.
Day 3-Mush the bag.
Day 4-Mush the bag.
Day 5-Mush the bag.
Day 6-Add to the bag: 1 cup flour, 1 cup sugar, 1 cup milk. Mix well.
Day 7-Mush the bag.
Day 8-Mush the bag.
Day 9-Mush the bag.
Day 10-

1. Pour the entire contents of the bag into a bowl.
2. Add 1-1/2 cups flour, 1-1/2 cups sugar, 1-1/3 cups milk. Mix well.
3. Measure out four separate batters of 1 cup each into 4 one-gallon freezer bags. Keep one starter bag for yourself (if you want) and give the other 3 away, along with this recipe. Date the bags with Day 1 date so they can keep track.
4. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees
5. To the remaining batter in the bowl, add:

• 3 eggs
• 1 cup oil
• ½ cup milk
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 tsp. cinnamon
• ½ tsp. vanilla
• 1-1/2 tsp. baking powder
• ½ tsp. salt
• 2 cups flour
• 1 large (5-6 oz.) or 2 small instant vanilla pudding mix (or whatever flavor you like, i.e. banana, etc.)
• Any nuts, raisins, chips, etc. that you like, or leave plain.

Grease 2 loaf pans; pour batter evenly into pans. Sprinkle with sugar, if you like. Bake for 1 hour or until done with toothpick test.

There is a handwritten note at the bottom: “This is very yummy bread. Dessert-like!”

Since Day 1 was January 25, the dough must have been up for grabs since Sunday. No one else was going to take it, so in the interest of this blog, I swooped in. I wrapped the bag in paper towels—both to quell the leak and to hide the fact that I was taking it—and hid it in my desk drawer.

When I get my Amish Friendship Bread home this evening, I will mush it, as directed. For the next week, I will document this scary sack of goo and see what comes out of the oven at the end. I’m hoping for some yummy, dessert-like bread.

Today’s discovery is just part of a fascinating ongoing phenomenon called Work Kitchen Leftovers. A whole cultural study could be centered around the foodstuffs people bring from home to pawn off (usually anonymously) on their co-workers. There are the obvious holiday leftovers: Halloween candy, Christmas cookies and Thanksgiving pies donated by the Weight Watchers crowd. There are the leftovers from department lunch meetings: soggy sandwiches, wilting lettuce, slimy pasta salad and, less often, cookies (usually broken but no less desirable).

The most common kitchen offerings are failed baking experiments. I will admit that I have, on occasion, snuck doughy pumpkin bread and dry brownies, artfully arranged in a basket, into the kitchen and watched to see how quickly they were eaten. No matter how bad they are, cookies and brownies go very quickly. Pizza, even cold with congealing cheese, is gone in a flash. But I have found that bread is never popular.

There was a lumpy loaf of “Sweet Bread” last week that most definitely was not sweet. It sat around the kitchen for most of the day, but was gone by 3 when lunch was long over and people were bored and peckish for something—anything—to snack on. One Monday morning was brightened by a vast display of homemade cookies and muffins. All of the cookies disappeared by the end of the morning, but one container of muffins sat on the counter all day until someone took pity on them and threw them away. The honesty of their labeling probably had something to do with this; a note on the container read, “Healthy muffins. Sorry—they taste healthy.” I tried these, and they were truly terrible. It’s unfortunate that for this person, “healthy” meant hard, grainy, and strangely metallic. I think they were supposed to be bran muffins, but I couldn’t be sure.

I just hope the person who baked those muffins is not the originator of my Amish Friendship Bread, because when this recipe is finally over, I know exactly where I will be leaving my three extra starter bags of goo. I wonder who will be brave—or foolish—enough to take them home.