I need something to grind wheat into flour.
What would work?
Come to think of it, on TV they used a mortar... A stone mill, maybe.
I'd like to make one, but... I'll do it when I have time.
This time, I'll use magic.
Hmm? The one-eyed creature... Well, as long as it's only watching, there shouldn't be a problem.
Using a balance, I measure out water equal to half the amount of flour.
I prepare the same amount of natural yeast as water.
I prepare sugar equal to one-tenth the amount of water and a pinch of salt.
I warm the water slightly, add the sugar and natural yeast, and mix it all together.
After leaving it for a while, the pre-fermentation begins to bubble.
I add the flour and salt and mix them in.
If it's too watery, I add a little flour and see how it looks.
I pat myself on the back for how well it turned out.
For some reason, the one-eyed creature pokes the dough... No problem there.
Once the dough comes together, I knead it on a board.
Kneading this is pretty tough...
I'd like to use magic, but... I'll do my best.
Knead, knead, knead.
I knead it until no trace of flour remains.
Oh, the surface is silky smooth.
It seems to have reached the state I was aiming for.
Don't poke it, one-eyed creature.
Next, I cover it with a damp cloth and let it ferment.
I wait patiently for about six hours, until it has roughly doubled in size.
In the meantime, I help with the harvest.
The vegetables the farming team planted in a small plot had grown.
They grow fast...
...They were vegetables I'd never seen before. Are these even edible?
They have an eerie color, but... well, they should be fine.
By the time I finish helping with the butchering and playing a little with the amoeba, fermentation is complete.
There's something satisfying about the puffed-up dough.
I knead it once more, shape it into a ball, cover it with a damp cloth, and let it ferment again.
Twenty-eight degrees is ideal, but I can't tell the temperature here, so I try to remember what that feels like.
I put the dough in the stone shelf I'd prepared, put my hand inside, and adjust the temperature.
The one-eyed creature comes along, too... I suppose it's checking on it. What is it doing?
...It's probably best not to worry about it.
I bring it to what seems like the right temperature, cover it, and leave it for about two hours.
We don't have a clock, either, so I have to go by feel here, too.
Once I confirm that it has risen properly, I shape it.
I arrange the dough on the iron baking sheet, cover it with a damp cloth, and let it ferment once more.
After waiting about 45 minutes, I bake it in the preheated pizza oven for 10 minutes.
For a first attempt, the outside is crisp and the inside is fluffy.
Let's be honest: it's delicious.
I somehow succeeded. I thought I'd have to make several attempts before getting it right.
I'm glad I didn't waste the flour.
The one-eyed creature picks up the baked bread and looks at the underside... What is it doing?
Our eyes meet, but it hands me the bread and goes off somewhere.
What was that about?
It's bothering me... Don't tell me...
For now, I'll enjoy this bread I haven't had in a long time.
The baby ants and baby spiders all gather around.
We all enjoy it a little at a time.
...
Just when I was enjoying the pleasant days, the cold arrived after about ten days.
It feels like autumn passed far too quickly.
Is this normal in this other world?
The clothes the three-eyed ones bring me now have long sleeves, and some are even jacket-like garments with fur sewn inside.
Most of my summer clothes were blue-toned, but once it started getting cold, orange tones began appearing more often.
They nailed the seasonal feel, too.
I probably shouldn't think too hard about where they get their fashion information.
Their sense of style is better than mine... But I won't think about that!
It's a shame there's no one to show them to.
No, I haven't given up yet...
...
One morning, there's freshly baked bread...
I had a feeling this might happen, but it's moister and fluffier than the bread I make... and delicious.
This is really making me curious!