 |
| Bee Hive Ove |
In May I found myself back at the Depreciation Land Museum with my other son for a Bee Hive Bake oven cooking class.
 |
| Class getting to know each other. |
With a small group of six and our teacher we spent the better part of a day inside an old log cabin doing prep work interrupted only by trips to start the wood fire in the oven, then feed and maintain it.
 |
| Our Teacher |
 |
| Mopping out oven |
By the warmth of our fireplace we were rolling out, letting raise, peeling, kneading, cutting, washing, and doing water runs. The comradery of a mutual goal and a shared task brought smiles, laughter, learning, and an occasional snitch of a sample.
 |
| My son helping out. |
 |
| Oven Ready |
We observed the magic that happens when the inside of the oven goes from sooty to clean. After placing our various offerings inside the oven's dome and waiting for the baking to be done, we pulled up chairs to our previous work table sharing together in a feast. There were even enough leftovers to divide and send samples home for our families to try along with copies of the receipts (old fashion word for recipes) to make them again.
 |
| Is it Done? |
 |
| Closed for Baking |
 |
| Feast |
 |
| Proud Bakers |
 |
| Washing Station |
If you were to ask my son what he remembers the most from the bake oven class, his answer would surprise you. One the way home we made a modern food stop to fill up my growing boy. I got myself a milkshake. By the the time I got home I was miserable with food poison. So what he remembers most about that day is that his mother could handle all kinds of weird old style foods, but not a modern milkshake!
