I’m not sure how the Amish Friendship Bread tradition became so mainstream, but more people than not are familiar with this practice.
It usually happens every fall when the leaves start to change color and people begin craving pumpkin spice candles, lattes, and douche.
You answer the door and there stands one of your friends holding a Ziploc bag filled with white goo. If you’re new to this practice, you may actually thank them for the bag of Amish Friendship Bread starter-mix and the detailed instructions that comes with it.
“How thoughtful! I really would love to make some bread. Let me read these instructions…”
And that’s when you realize you weren’t just given a fall gift. You were given a ten-day chore.
While days 1-5 don’t appear to be too time consuming, you certainly become perplexed as you read all the way to day 10.
“I have to do what now?”
The very best part of all is the “Important Note” that comes at the END with information that could have possibly been critical in those early days of your dough’s gestation.
It starts, “Don’t use metal spoons or equipment.”
Now, you’re angry. “Hey Amish mafia, I’ll stir with any utensil I see fit and if I hear anymore lip about it I’ll leave a picture of me using my Kitchen Aid mixer on the front porch of your Amish home. Yeah, I know you’ll hear my car pull up, but I don’t care.”
Then, in the very last, and most disturbing sentence of all, the important note reads, “Only let a tiny bit of air out of the Ziploc bag if explosion seems imminent.”
So to the Amish community, and anyone else tempted to share their 10-day bag of chores with me, please keep your dirty yeast bombs to yourself.
I like my bread with only one chore required and it’s called a twist-tie. Thankyouverymuch.