I Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World To Farm And Build Houses!-Chapter 201: The Suffering of Gluttons

The lye water Eric had was clear, and kneading it into the dough could effectively eliminate the sour taste.

He planned to make some more next year, because once the food production increased, the tribe’s cafeteria would also have to start making flour-based dishes. He couldn’t bear to let his tribesmen eat steamed buns that tasted sour.

Boa nodded as if she understood, although it had been a long time since she last dealt with food made from fermented dough. But she still remembered that dough without sugar did indeed taste sour, and dough proofed with grape wine yeast was even sourer.

The Ox-Head tribe wasn’t afraid of hard food, so in Boa’s heart, that sour bread wasn’t even as good as black bread. Of course, the plain steamed buns Brother Tu brought back last night were much better, not sour at all, only having the fragrance of wheat.

Hearing Eric say that food made from this grayish-white powder wouldn’t be sour, Boa was extremely surprised.

Next was the step of kneading the dough. The more thoroughly the dough was kneaded, the more layers the plain steamed bun would have. In his previous life, there was a region specializing in making thousand-layer steamed buns, layer upon layer, very fragrant; Eric had been lucky enough to taste it once.

Boa didn’t hesitate to start kneading the dough. She was very proficient at this task; before the Ox-Head tribe had stone mills, the flour ground wasn’t this fine, yet the black bread she made was still delicious.

Seeing Boa’s skilled movements, Eric didn’t intervene. Actually, as long as one knew how to knead dough, learning how to proof dough was very simple; he merely had the advantage of knowing a bit more.

Today, the kitchen was constantly pressing tofu, so the air was very warm, thanks to which the dough proofed faster.

After Boa finished kneading the dough, they sat together chatting for a while. Eric ran into the kitchen to check every now and then; the third time he ran in, the dough had doubled in size.

Actually, if Eric hadn’t been fidgety, wanting to open the lid to check constantly, the proofing speed would have been even faster, because every time he opened the lid, cold air rushed in.

Wait until sometime later, he must ask the Dwarves to make some transparent glass lids, whether for pots or basins, so the cook could conveniently observe at any time.

"Aunt Boa, look, the dough rising to this extent is enough. If proofed longer, it will taste sour. If you happen to be busy and forget, leaving it to proof too long, just add a little of this. Remember, absolutely do not add too much; adding too much will make the bun yellow and bitter."

Eric pointed at the dough mass in the basin and said to Boa, then gave her the whole bag of lye powder, not forgetting to teach her thoroughly how to distill it and the dosage to use.

When he was small, he often ate plain steamed buns his grandmother accidentally put too much lye water in; steamed, the buns had a golden yellow color. He even found that kind of bun had a very special fragrance, and for a time insisted on her making yellow buns, only realizing when he grew up that it was due to an overdose...

Boa nodded, memorizing the shape of the dough mass in her heart. The bag of lye powder Eric gave her was also carefully tucked into her pocket.

Eric told Boa to press down the dough to squeeze all the air out. The dough mass was too big, so Eric told her to divide it, roll it out into large flat sheets, spread evenly a layer of oil-flour mixture he mixed in a ratio of one part flour to one and a half parts oil, then roll it up and cut into small portions, flattening them into cake shapes.

He also left a little dough to steam plain buns. Last night Boa wasn’t there so she didn’t see Eric’s process; this dough was to demonstrate for her.

Boiling water in a ceramic pot to steam the buns, while on this side placing an iron pan on the stove, brushing a thin layer of oil in the pan then placing the cakes in, waiting for bubbles to appear on the top surface before flipping.

The baked cake puffing up meant it was cooked. The round, golden, crispy cakes were fished out onto a plate; even with gentle movements, some crumbs fell off, enough to show its crispiness.

If the oil-flour mixture wasn’t added, the baked cake would be a very soft flatbread. But this type had many layers, soft inside and crispy outside.

"Dough kneaded thoroughly like this can also be put in an oven to bake into bread; it will be much softer than black bread, and the flavor will be better too." Eric picked up a piece of dough and said.

Regarding this baking business, he really had done some research. Although he had never succeeded, he didn’t lack theoretical knowledge.

After all, ever since the technological tricks and dirty tactics in the food industry were exposed, Eric and the friends around him tried to learn to make whatever they could themselves. His cooking skills improved by leaps and bounds from there. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Making handmade bread was very difficult.

At that time, Eric was still working; he didn’t want to spend all his rare days off kneading dough, so he spent a large sum to buy a bread machine.

He remembered that if making bread by hand, the dough needed to be kneaded until it could be pulled into a thin film, butter had to be added for fluffiness, and the crust was best brushed with a layer of egg yolk for a better color when baked, etc.

Conditions in the beastman world didn’t allow it; there was no butter either. But just kneading dough until it could form a thin film was a trivial matter for the Ox-Head tribe. The dough mass Boa just kneaded was probably close to that level.

But the Ox-Head tribe wasn’t picky eaters; such simple baked bread was already much tastier than the black bread they usually ate.

Boa listened very attentively, her gaze towards Eric becoming increasingly benevolent, her hands also following Eric to bake cakes.

The large iron pan of the beastman world suited her much better than Eric. Eric, using the spatula, had difficulty reaching the cake in the center of the pan, having to stand on his tiptoes. Boa couldn’t bear watching and took the spatula to flip the cakes, her movements extremely proficient.

Eric secretly glanced at Boa’s height, two heads taller than him, and could only scream internally: When on earth will I grow taller...

Since transmigrating here, Eric had eaten quite a lot; the food the tribesmen gave him was the best kind, with sufficient nutrition, so he finally grew a little taller, about two centimeters, but in the Snow Wolf tribe, it was nothing outstanding.

The long lifespan of beastmen was an advantage, but transmigrating as a beast cub and growing slowly was truly an unspeakable sorrow. The original host’s body wasn’t even as good as friends of the same age; Eric always worried it would affect his future height. Although he was now a bit taller than in his previous life, this was the beastman world; not reaching one meter eight, he might be laughed at until his nose fell off.

Eric was teaching on this side, while Chief Tu and the other Snow Wolf people had a filling feast.

The baked cakes and plain steamed buns were swept clean in no time. Especially Kevin, who was beaten and had to grind flour, Eric took pity on him and gave him a few extra ones; Kevin was overjoyed.

Afraid Boa wouldn’t learn in one go, since he was helping, he might as well help thoroughly. Eric supervised Boa to proof a few more basins of dough herself, then taught her to make meat buns, rolled buns, and steamed rolls.

Discovering for the first time that food could be made in so many styles, Boa felt her horizons broaden, trying to memorize all the steps Eric taught.

Fortunately, Eric had considered this issue and only taught her simple dishes.

That day, in the wooden house where the Snow Wolf people stayed, the aroma of food wafted out continuously from morning till night, tormenting the other beastmen with keen senses of smell indescribably.