Outdoor Cooking

Cooking out of doors in 1940 — bean holes, spits, clambakes and burgoo, from three food writers who thought a campfire was the best joke going.

HomeCavewoman Breads, Dumplin's and Mush › Bannocks

Bannocks

Ever since Alfred the Great burned them, bannocks have been almost any unleavened cakes that are browned on one side and then turned to brown on the other. Alfred's were probably made of ground oats, or of pea meal. But campers' bannocks are usually made of corn meal, and here is one kind:

I CUP CORN MEAL 1/2 TEASPOON SALT BOILING WATER 2 TABLESPOONS FAT Mix in order given, using enough boiling water to make mixture of the consistency of heavy cream. Pour into wellgreased frying pan and spread 1/2 inch thick. Set in hot embers that are well covered with ashes and bake until brown underneath, keeping pan covered. Then uncover and set before fire to brown and bake top. Do not be afraid to bake your bannocks slowly, remembering that Alfred probably got into trouble by trying to cook his too fast. Eat them with syrup after they are split and buttered, and when they get hard dunk them into coffee or milk.

For the Modern Kitchen

A cornmeal hoecake baked in a greased pan, first from below in embers and then face-up before the fire. The whole thing hinges on the boiling water and a slow bake.

A Little History

The burnt-cakes story is legend rather than record: the tale of Alfred the Great sheltering in a cottage in the Somerset marshes and letting the woman's cakes scorch does not appear in Asser's near-contemporary biography but surfaces in later sources, and is generally treated as folklore. The word bannock is recorded in Old English as bannuc and is usually taken to be of Celtic origin (compare Gaelic bonnach); a derivation from Latin panicium has been proposed but is not certain. In Britain it meant a flat unleavened cake of oats, barley or pease meal cooked on a griddle or hearthstone. American campers and frontier cooks kept the name but swapped the grain, so bannock, hoecake, journey cake and corn pone all describe much the same thing: meal, salt, fat and hot water, cooked in the one pan a traveller carried. The advice at the end, to dunk the hardened remains in coffee, is the honest note in the recipe: unleavened corn bread is excellent hot and stony by the next morning.

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