My acquaintance with hops is limited to 2 points (see below) and knowledge that the hops used in folk medicine and for brewing beer. My last (close) the meeting occurred when buying hops at a pharmacy: one word, without incident, and bought a happy meal in the tram home. Sitting at the end of the tram, behind is a group of teenagers... Gygykayut wholeheartedly... Well, I think the youth did something painfully with something sharp and unusual in the... well, it smelled the entire tram. I carefully looked - like not doing anything wrong, just Yuk. I think maybe, but some new drink or something... When they came... in... Oh, the smell hasn't ceased. Then I carefully looked, or rather, sniffed to the environment - BA, Yes it is in diameter of 1-1,5 meters around me! And then it dawned on me: cackle of young people with me, because my hop was making unusual smell!!! Well, people were a bit in the tram... and I already had! Ahma! But first - in my youth again! - my acquaintance with hops was much more dramatic. (Here you can skip to the recipe: I swing again, sorry... In the third year of the Institute send the whole course of Philology to the rescue of the harvest hop farms of Zhytomyr region. Taking us on buses to their destination - strategic object: the village of Zhitomir in the vast fields. An no! I didn't take! The road was blocked by a puddle of such size that even customized to the aid of the tractor, its not mastered (where modern Gogol?), had to stomp feet. And raspredelili us on the huts - I and my 4 friends (minds and luminaries of course) get together for one grandmother. People send in the box and me into the kitchen due to the lack of suitable clothing for field conditions! I think I lucky, live lucky, and vezuha... of course! Had to get up early, and me in the dark to go on tractors plowed dirt roads, trying not to fall out of the rut. The light bulb was one for the entire village, moonless night - pitch dark: all the way I walked, broke his legs and sobbing loudly. Finished work late all, clear until all the wash up, this, that... Feeding pose a greater problem, as they gave us only bread, and the rest of the grub we had to not only cook, but initially, his and mine. For this we have allocated the old Mare and the cart, we plied the local territories in search of a General Store, where he found a miserable deposits rotten noodles and spoiled rice. And as - the demand for rice was in Ukrainian villages still the same... 2 weeks of hard work have izgledal people - and the Chairman of the kolkhoz gave us half a pig. We rejoiced too early, because it was not a pig, and the old knurov (explain - with knurov in Ukraine is the name of a male pig, which? which? keep solely for sexual pleasures pigs, and therefore meat from knurov because of the stiffness and the stench of inedible!). But we were not in a position to reject the gifts, especially since the next day was a holiday. And attempts to cut the carcass plunged us in despair, turned, knurov or died a natural death or was killed because of the one that grew old and could no longer "comfort" anyone! He did not respond to any sword or dagger or axe! With great effort tore off a piece of me home waiting for izgledala team! The next day we do "picnic" - we go into the field (already plowed stiff and rough waves, it was walking every day, the students and their teachers. Once a teacher, pericapillary on a low "fence" is a fence and stretched out his full height, said, "Oh, vikladach of Trosky teaches!", which translated means "the teacher fell somewhat", this phrase has become a cruise for the whole period of our study. And how, if not a little bit? before the concussion? soft-boiled? vusmert?), build the fire, even the sun took pity on us though, not warmed, but light! Start to fry the slices like bacon (by the way, from skins that knurov would make a great boots!) over the fire, strung them on sticks. Bah! Was knurov and not amenable to heat treatment, then we are miserable meager drops of fat, remnants of the allocated knurov, caught some bread and ate it... with pleasure... almost... Yes, these avaricious joy brightened the life of Soviet students. What am I doing? And, Yes, hops...)

About the hops... the hop Cook sourdough - recipe taken from Internet. 1 Cup of hop cones pour 2 cups of water and simmer until the liquid is evaporated by half. Once cooled, strain. Add 1 tbsp. of honey (sugar) and flour to make the dough thick sour cream. Cover, but not tightly, and leave for 6-8 hours. I did as was told. Left for the night - I think what it will be? bedtime future even visited my sourdough - like, zapatillas.

In the morning I look at my starter and don't know what to do... I see no signs of life! Wandered-wandered? already fermented? No idea! What to do? what to do... Creativity to show! And based on the hop, as it were, of the leaven makes the dough - add the flour and - believe me, I'm not lying! - 1 or 2 grams of fresh yeast (with pea pepper!) exclusively for hedging. Cover, leave and go about their business! Watch 5 commercials are home to the house - my mother! There are bubbles and where do we climb? strive out... Help! Urgently cook potatoes, the good, the broth and potatoes mixed.

In a bowl, then mix with a mixer the dough and the potatoes, adding salt, cumin, and flour how much flour? Don't ask! added and kneaded until a little bun started to be formed. But not taut, but rather a lush, supple. Large pot smeared thinly stretch. oil and put the dough - covered. After an hour I looked, the second time help! the dough is as "yeast", is growing by leaps and bounds! Increased 3 times!

Began to press down and see that something out of it formed into impossible, the dough was air, all in the bubbles, just the balloon... I got the cauldron a little more, thin lubricated Rast. oil and put baking paper, but so that the edge sticking out (find out why...), put back the dough, brushing hands, too Rast. oil. Covered by another inverted pot... After an hour and a half as he looked - all hands on deck! Coming soon from the cauldron will come out level (more than 3 times here!).

Urgently I heat the oven to 250°. Gently stick in the cauldron and bake for 10-15 minutes, my God - he's not the cauldron, bread! more rose! Once the top is cooked and bread was seized, I removed it from the cauldron, grabbing a paper sticking out ears. The fire reduced, after a time, the top covered and the paper is removed from the edges so all sides are cooked. Cool on wire rack.

What was it? Failure? Or luck? The bread turned out extraordinary! I baked a lot of bread - different and delicious! but this some REAL! - with a crust plump with makerom derjavin and elastic. Well, bread is just like in my student days. Oh, prevmessage, bread-prehledy real!!!