We made up these directions one glorious morning in a remote campsite deep in the mountains. We'd planned the soufflé as a late brunch, but the project built slowly and turned into an early dinner. That didn't matter. We had all the time in the world. This wasn't survival; it was hedonism, like a day trip, a long nap, or an hour of fly-casting at sundown. After dinner, we revised the recipe, wrote it out, and then, the next day, left it in a cairn atop an unnamed peak in the mountains. We don't know if anyone ever found it or tried to use it. We were told later, however, by friends who did try, that they needed something a bit more specific, and in the following pages we will take you step-by-step through this recipe (poaching, making a sauce and baking) as well as through others that have kept us fat and happy during long days in the mountains.

At the same time, though, we're trying to hook you on a general philosophy of backcountry cooking. Namely, that with some basic knowledge and ingredients, you can concoct masterpieces in the wilderness. If you don't have a home dehydrator and arrive at your campsite with bundles of flour, sugar, beans and rice; if you've got time on your hands and a song on your lips; if you have a fired-up imagination and a fire on the hearth--you're in the right place. Recipes are fine in the beginning. You can jot some down in indelible ink on a few notecards covered with plastic wrap that will fit into your map pouch, or you can tear out the ones in the Appendix. But the fact is, you don't need any. Now we show how to improvise, how to play variations on simple themes, how to work from the general to the specific: how to have your cake and eat it too!

Food Preparation Fundamentals

In Chapter 9, we assumed you knew all. Some wise old kitchen sage was just a phone call away. Here we assume you know naught. And that you can't get advice without hiking 13 miles to the nearest car phone. A few pages of basic training, then, and you'll be off on another adventure.

Boiling: Cooking in a liquid at its boiling point. Remember that the higher the altitude, the lower the temperature at which this occurs. That's the good news, because it takes less time to get the water bubbling. The bad news is that the lower boiling temperature means you have to cook the food longer than at sea level. The following chart indicates the differences:

Baking: Cooking in enclosed heat. At home, this means using an oven. In the wilderness, it means nesting a covered pot in coals. For best results, the pot is not set directly on top of the coals, but on a cleared spot in the middle of the ashes of a fire. It is then surrounded by the hot coals. Foil-wrapped food placed on or under coals (or both) is also "baked."

Frying: Cooking in fat over direct heat. The fat may be any cooking oil--vegetable, corn, peanut, canola, safflower or sesame--or vegetable shortenings like Crisco, Spry, etc. Margarine works too, if you keep it cool and in a tightly lidded container. Butter and olive oil spoil too rapidly to be practical. Bacon drippings are fine for frying, but bacon doesn't last much longer than butter. We travel with a plastic bottle of vegetable oil and several sticks of margarine in a small plastic container.

Grilling: Cooking over direct heat on a rack, a grill or a stick, a.k.a. broiling or barbecuing. Backpacking grills are lightweight and small. Sticks, if used, should be pointed at one end, green so they don't burn, and long, so your hand doesn't cook along with the food. If the stick is big enough, it's called a spit, and if the food on it is rotated while cooking, this is known as roasting, a technique best left to Tudor kings with very large fireplaces.

Poaching: Cooking by simmering gently in just enough water to cover. Simmering describes what water does just below the boiling point: rather than bubble actively, it moves only slightly. This point is hard to maintain on an open fire, but happily it doesn't matter. Boiling works fine instead of poaching.

Practical Suggestions

So much for theory. Practice is more rewarding. In getting started, you should take the following into account:

Measurements: Our motto is "more or less." You won't have measuring spoons or cups and you don't need them. Approximations, guesses and tasting will suffice. In the following recipes, all of which make enough for two hungry adults, we try to keep quantities approximate. Where we use measures, they mean the following:

Meal size: Camp cooking is cooking in miniature; i.e., a little goes a long way. Be prepared to scale down your normal at-home expectations as to how much you need. You don't want leftovers. Most are hard to store without attracting strange visitors. Plan meals with this in mind. If necessary, feed the last spoonful to the fire or the dogs.

Utensils: Pots and pans should be reasonably clean. Make sure the handles don't burn. If you have to stir something on the fire, lengthen your stirring spoon by tying on a stick. Garden gloves also work well to keep your hands protected.

Water: Have enough on hand for both cooking and cleaning up as you go. A dirty mixing pot often is needed for baking a few minutes later. Lids keep dirt and ashes out. Whenever you remove a pot top, set it on a clean rock or plate. Before replacing, check to be sure you won't be adding any unwanted twigs or leaves.

Fire: You want coals more than flame. A blaze burns rather than cooks. It also consumes a lot of fuel.

Fire Area: A fire requires a flat, cleared area, free of brush and clear of any overhanging branches. Don't put it too near your tent, or a slight wind may fill it with smoke. If the fire area is near some natural "chairs" (a big log will do) or "tables" (like a large flat rock), life is easier

Ingredients:Keep them at hand. You don't want to run all over the campsite for garlic or soy sauce.

White or Wheat Flour? We use unbleached white flour in all the recipes, but whole wheat works just as well.

Shade: Keep all food in the shade while you're in camp. You may need to move the food stash several times a day, but it's so little trouble, especially if you keep the perishables together, and so sensible it should become part of your daily routine. If you leave for the day, place the perishables somewhere out of the arc of the sun.

Tent: A veritable kitchen cabinet--use it. If there are several stages to your food preparation and you need to put something aside, store it in the tent beyond the reach of flies, bees and mosquitos. Make sure, however, that you don't burn a hole in the tent floor with a hot pot. Feel the bottom of the pot, place it on a stone or a plate if necessary, and keep it away from sleeping bags and Ensolite pads. Don't forget to zip the mosquito flap all the way. Also, be careful of smelly spills. A tent reeking of raw fish or dried white sauce is likely to attract unwanted guests, such as ants or bears. If you have a spare poncho, spread it in the tent before storing food inside. If you do spill anything on the tent floor, wash it thoroughly before dark.

Covering Food:Foods you cook uncovered at home may need to be covered over an open fire to keep out ash and dirt. In such cases, set the lid on loosely and watch that the contents don't burn.

Washing Up:Make a wash-up area at the very edge of your campsite so as not to attract insects and animals. Carry water to the wash-up site rather than carrying dirty utensils to a lake or stream. Be sure any detergent, even "biodegradable" varieties, goes into the ground. Those bubbles that you see more and more of these days, even in the remotest wilderness areas, won't be going away. We usually wash pots with no soap at all: a little hot water and a good scrubber do fine. If you want to use soap, do so sparingly. A few drops are enough.

When to Eat What? One hot meal a day usually suffices. Two are sometimes essential. The hot-breakfast fanatic has to be fed; there's no getting around it. The hot-dinner fanatic also has to be fed. Now, if they're the same person, don't try to convert anyone to anything while out on the trail. If you're a minimalist, cut back your own rations, but don't force your partner the carbo-loader to abstain on your account. Just remember that there is no fixed order to meals in the mountains, hot or cold. If you want nothing but desserts for breakfast, enjoy. One day we made and ate a chocolate cake with chocolate icing, a cherry pie and a loaf of sweet sourdough nut bread. The next day roots and grubs looked great. There's no accounting for the suddenness or strangeness of an attack of the munchies, so you might as well not fight it.

Invidious Comparisons: Whatever you cook in the wilderness won't be the same as what you make at home. The aim is not to duplicate what you can do seated at the controls of a 21st-century kitchen, but to make do with what you've got. The soufflé you bake at 9,000 feet might fall flat. It might not even warrant the name you give it. But it will be full of eggs, cheese and trout and will taste at least as good as an omelet. So if you're a hot shot chef in the lowlands, don't despair when things turn out differently from what you think is "right." Hopefully, you'll enjoy the cooking as much as the eating.

Fish are easy to clean, but it's also easy to foul the environment while doing it. While floating on a pristine backcountry lake, nothing is more depressing than to look down and see fish entrails floating in the water. Always clean fish far from all freshwater sources--and from your campsite. And don't even begin to clean them until you've found a spot with soft soil or sand and have dug a hole or trench at least four or five inches deep with your heel or a cup. That's going to be your Dispose-All.

To clean a fish, you need a sharp knife and some rinse water. Hold the fish in your hand, belly up. Slit the belly from the vent (the small hole just in front of the back fin) to just behind the head. If you plan to cut off the head (lots of folks leave it on), do it now. Cut on a diagonal line from just behind the front fins through to the spinal column. The fish is going to be slippery; hold on tight. But that backbone is tough, so be careful you don't take your hand off along with the head as the sharp knife severs the bone.

The fish is now opened. Most of the entrails will spill out on their own (into the hole you've dug). Remove the remainder with your hand, scraping away the tissue along the backbone with a thumbnail or knife. That's all there is to it! Rinse out the cavity, put the fish in a bag or pot, clean your knife and hands, pour out the dirty rinse water, cover up the hole and head for supper.

Fish are best cooked and eaten immediately after catching and cleaning. But this too is not always possible. To store the cleaned fish overnight, keep them in a plastic bag inside a pot. You don't need to use any water. Cover the pot and set a heavy rock on it to discourage late four-legged diners. The cold night air will preserve the fish and breakfast will be great.

Cooking Fish Without a Pan

You've bagged a couple rainbows and your partner has taken the required snapshot. The fish are fresh and cleaned; a feast is in order. There are many ways to cook fish: frying or poaching in a pan, stewing or baking in a pot, or grilling or broiling over an open flame. For starters, let's say you've left your frying pan in the car—at the time it seemed too heavy. The pot lids are too small and light to use as substitutes. The fish are biting on everything from hand-tied flies to matzoh balls, and the idea of one more fish stew palls. What to do? Go primitive. Use a stick, a rock, the flame or coals as your pan or oven. Here's how.

TROUT ON THE COALS
2 rainbow trout
1 campfire, flames low, coals just cooling
pepper/hot sauce to taste
lemon/lime juice

Toss the fish in the coals! Honest. It works. If you were squeamish about ashes in your food, you wouldn't be here anyway. The worst that'll happen is the fish will be charred beyond recognition. So who needs recognition? Extricate the blackened trout after three to five minutes (depending on the heat of the coals). Use a spare plate to scrape away the charred skin. The flesh will be fine and flaky. Add pepper/hot sauce and a squirt of lemon juice from the miniature plastic bottle. Make Neanderthal noises while eating.

TROUT ON A STICK
Anybody who can roast a marshmallow can roast a trout on a stick too. And if that's all you've got by way of kitchen-ware, use it.

2 rainbow trout
1 campfire, moderate flames, coals red hot
1 green, sharpened hardwood stick
cooking oil
pepper, salt to taste
lemon/lime juice

Strictly speaking, this is a way to grill, not roast, fish. But the chances of dropping the fish into the fire are good, so you get the best of both techniques. Rub oil on the sharpened stick, lay the oiled part in the cleaned, open belly of the fish, poke the point of the stick into the head to secure it. Truss the fish by poking twigs through one side of the belly, over the stick, and through the other side of the belly. Season it to taste and grill over red-hot coals. The smaller the fish, the less time it takes: an 8-inch trout should be ready in about six to seven minutes. Check flesh with a fork or knife (or your fingers, if you've lost the cutlery, too). If it flakes easily, it's ready to eat.

TROUT ON A ROCK
Okay, we've never done this, but others have. If a highly selective bear makes off with all your gear except a fishing line, three matches, and some oil, you too can get dinner.

2 rainbow trout
1 campfire, very hot
1 big, flat rock
Cooking oil

Heat the rock in the fire. Work it to the edge of the fire ring, oil the fish, set it on the flat face of the rock, turning once during the cooking. No utensils? Gather round the rock and eat with your hands. Incoherent Cro-Magnon grunting is appropriate here.

Grilling Fish

There must be a word for people who hate fish: fishogonists? fishophobes? They're the ones who catch a fish and then go to elaborate lengths to disguise its taste by PO (Preparation Overkill). Grilling is not one of their strong suits. Grilling is simple, direct and honest: a tribute to the noble creature that gave you such a good fight.

GRILLED TROUT
2 freshly caught small trout
cooking oil
soy sauce/tamari
rice vinegar/lemon juice
1 campfire, red-hot coals
1 lightweight, wire-mesh grill or three-pronged backpacking grill

Oil the grill to prevent the fish from sticking. Set it about five inches above the coals. Let the grill get very hot before it receives the trout. Sprinkle cavity with soy sauce and rice vinegar, also a light coat of same on the trout's skin. Toss on grill. (If using a three-pronged grill, set the fish on it gently. Otherwise it'll end up in the fire.) After about five minutes, turn the fish. A small spatula is useful for this, though chopsticks or a knife and fork will do as well. Use the flake test for doneness: that is, with a fork pry up a piece; if is flakes off easily, the fish is finished, and you've just begun to eat. It will remind you of that great Japanese restaurant you went to last year.

BAKED TROUT
One of the best and easiest ways to cook fish without a pan is to wrap it in aluminum foil, set it on a bed of hot coals, and cover it with another bed of coals, or use a camping oven for a similar effect. As the recipes below show, there are endless variations to this way of cooking. We carry enough foil for at least one meal made this way. About two-and-a-half feet can be folded small and tucked inconspicuously in a pack pouch. It's usable only once. And remember, foil doesn't burn, so pack out the remains with your other non-organic garbage.

You can either wrap the fish individually or fashion a flat "oven pan." First, crimp the edges up on all sides so the juices won't spill out. Second, keep the "lid" opening toward you and not the fire; that way you can open the foil with a minimum of movement when the baking is done, without losing the juices.

FOIL-BAKED TROUT
2 10" trout
rosemary/tarragon
salt, pepper to taste
1 clove garlic, sliced thin
small dab of margarine
hot coals
1 to 21/2 ft. heavy aluminum foil

Rub the cavity with the margarine, then season it with the herbs and garlic. Foil-wrap the fish tightly and place on a bed of coals. Cover with hot coals.

Note: coals have a habit of cooling, so expect the fish to take about 15 minutes to bake. You may need to add fresh coals if the originals lose a lot of their heat along the way. If you get good at it, you can test for doneness by poking a fork through the foil, while the fish are cooking. If the fork slides in and out easily, meeting little resistance, dinner is done. Or take the whole shmeer out of the fire, open, check, eat, or return for a little more cooking.

Variations

Pan-fried trout are so easy and satisfying that you may not get beyond them in a week in the mountains. Small lake or stream trout are tender, cook fast and need almost nothing to enhance their flavor. A pan, lightly greased and set on a grill or nestled between rocks about four to five inches above a bed of coals, and a string of cleaned, lightly seasoned trout are all you need for a first-rate meal. The oil should be hot before you add the fish. Turn them over after about four or five minutes (sooner if they're small or if the fire is very hot) and cook for another four or five minutes. Sprinkle generously with lemon juice. That's all, folks.

As soon as the flesh flakes with a fork, it's done. Be careful at this stage; an overcooked fish loses a lot of flavor. When in doubt, take the fish off the fire sooner rather than later. You can always put it back, but you can't reverse a burn-out. All our suggestions for minutes per side are approximate. We don't wear watches in the wilderness. It's better to feel for doneness, following the clock in your head, than to put a stopwatch on the food in your pan.

One other precaution: make sure the oil doesn't burn. It starts to smoke and turns black if it gets too hot. At the smoking stage, add more oil to the pan to reduce the temperature. By experimenting with the heat of the fire and the height of the pan above it, you'll soon get the right combination and the fish will cook to perfection.

PAN-FRIED TROUT
4 8" trout, cleaned, with heads left on
cooking oil/margarine
salt, pepper to taste
lemon juice

Heat a mixture of oil and margarine if you can spare them; otherwise one or the other. Brown the trout on one side, about four minutes; turn and finish cooking. Salt and pepper to taste. Test for doneness by flaking. Turn out on plate, pour the cooking oils over fish, add a dash of lemon juice.

TROUT AMANDINE #1 (Trout with almonds)
Prepare as Pan-Fried Trout. Add a handful of chopped almonds to the pan after you have removed the cooked fish. Brown the almonds quickly in the cooking oils. Do not burn. Spread almonds over the trout and the juices over all. This is simple and elegant, maybe the best of all ways to prepare a freshly caught small trout. Don't worry if you only have peanuts or cashews. It'll taste just as good, and Escoffier is not likely to pop out from behind a tree to point an accusing finger.

TROUT AMANDINE #2
Dust the fish with a handful of seasoned flour. To season flour add any combination of spices to it and mix: pepper, rosemary, tarragon, basil, ginger. Prepare as per Trout Amandine #1.

TROUT MEUNIÈRE (Flour-dipped, Pan-Fried Trout)
"Meunière" means a miller, someone who grinds grain to make flour. This is one of the classic ways of preparing fresh whole trout. Note that "sp." here means "spoon," as in mess-kit spoon. Quantities are not important. Not to worry.

4 fresh, cleaned trout, with heads left on
2-4 sp. margarine/cooking oil
2 sp. flour
salt, pepper to taste
lemon/lime juice

Dip the trout in flour to coat. Heat oils--a mix of the two is great--and add fish. Season to taste. Brown on one side, about four minutes. Turn and complete cooking. Add a dash of lemon juice. Serve. Why leave the head on in these recipes? For both taste and style. The cheek meat on a fish is the tenderest of all. Why give it to the scavengers? And a whole cooked trout is beautiful. That's reason enough.

Variations

• Prepare as per recipe, but use a mixture of flour and cornmeal. Some old-timers put the flour-cornmeal mixture in a bag, drop in the fish, shake and fry.
• Make a small cup of milk with instant powdered milk and water, dip the fish into the milk, then the flour or flour/cornmeal mixture. Cook as in recipe.
• Substitute an egg for the milk. Crack it into a pot lid and beat lightly with a fork. To make it go farther, add a spoonful of water or milk to the egg. Dip the fish into the egg and then into the seasoned flour.
• Suppose you run out of flour and cornmeal and still want to coat the fish? Crush a couple of RyKrisps (or whatever other crackers you have) between a plate and your Sierra cup. Using this coarse meal, proceed with or without egg or milk.
• A piece of stale bread or biscuit can also replace flour or cornmeal. Just make a fine layer of crumbs by rubbing the bread between your hands. Ground-up nuts, seeds, left-over rice--almost anything'll do. Use your imagination.

CAJUN BLACKENED TROUT
Mardi Gras at the campground. Ideally this calls for an iron skillet, but you don't have one. Teflon will do in Little N'orleans. This one's simple and will set your socks on fire.

2 fresh, cleaned trout (optional: filet the trout)
3 sp. cooking oil
paprika to taste
onion and garlic powder to taste (or dried onion flakes and minced fresh garlic)
pepper, cayenne, chili powder to taste

Get that pan as hot as you dare without wrecking the Teflon coating. Season the trout inside and out (or, if fileted, top and bottom). Fry till blackened—right, blackened—on both sides. Eat by the light of your flaming socks.

TROUT FLAMBÉ
Plan to serve this spectacular dish after dark for best effect. Prepare as in any of the pan-fried recipes. Just before eating, pour a little brandy in a Sierra cup, hold it over the fire until it's warm to the touch and light it with a match. As the brandy catches fire, pour it over the trout. A soft blue flame will dance over and around the trout for up to half a minute and will add another delicate flavor to the dish.

If you want a thick stew, curry, trout in white sauce, soufflé, or crepes, you won't want to pick bones and skin out of them. To remove these beforehand, simply poach the fish. This leaves the flesh tender and ready to eat; the rest is disposable. Here's how.

POACHED TROUT
A poached fish is a finished product. Seasoned well and not over-cooked, it's as tender as you'll get a trout. But a poached fish is also part of a process that involves other methods of cooking. The six recipes following this one will show you how to combine several methods of preparing fish in order to end up with something definitely more than the sum of its parts.

2 fresh, cleaned trout
seasonings to taste: pepper, Italian herbs
lemon juice
frying pan filled with boiling water

Put enough water in your frying pan to barely cover the fish. Season it with salt and herbs to taste. Place the pan over the fire and let the water come to a slight boil. The fish will curl up. That's all right. There's also no need to turn the fish over. It's done when the skin peels off easily, and the flesh has lost its "transparent" look and comes off the bone at a nod and beckon. This takes about 10 minutes from the time the water begins to boil.

Remove the pan from the heat, the fish from the pan, and then with fork, knife or fingers peel off the skin and flake the flesh from the bones. Ideally, the backbone will come off in one piece, taking most of the skeleton and leaving you with a simple mop-up operation close to the fins. It's simple, but work fast or you'll end up wearing a halo of flies and other airborne participants. When finished, place the fish in the tent until ready to use and go bury the skin and bones. If you won't be using the poaching water (see Trout in Curried Sauce, Fried Rice Chinese Style or Hidden Lake Soufflé for possibilities), throw it out far from both your living area and the lake or stream.

TROUT TANDOORI
This is a curry dish, filling and fiery. Eat it, and you'll find the rainbow at the end of the pot. (Note: hfl. = handfuls)

3 small rainbow trout, cleaned and poached
2 hfl. rice, boiled
assorted chopped nuts, dried fruits, about a small dishful
chopped dried onion, as much as you like
cooking oil
2-3 large pinches garam masala to taste
cayenne pepper (optional)
lemon/lime juice (optional)

Heat up just enough oil to cover the bottom of your frying pan. Toss in the poached fish, rice, nuts and fruit. Season with garam masala and cayenne to taste. Add a dash of lime juice. Stir frequently. Done when hot. Serve with a Campground Chutney (see this chapter). Guaranteed to warm whatever in you is not.

TROUT IN CURRIED SAUCE
The ingredients are the same as for Trout Tandoori. Add the poached trout to a cup of white sauce made with the poaching liquid, and flavored with garam masala and cayenne. Serve over boiled rice with nuts and fruits on the side, and a big helping of chutney (see this chapter).

FRIED RICE CHINESE STYLE
3 small trout, cleaned and poached
2 hfl. rice, boiled
2+ cloves garlic, chopped
sesame oil/peanut oil/cooking oil
powdered ginger
dry mustard
black pepper
soy sauce

Heat oils (a mixture is desirable but not necessary) in frying pan. Add poached trout, rice and spices. Fry, stirring, till hot. Then add soy sauce to taste and stir thoroughly. Note: The soy sauce provides all the salt you'll need. The Chinese have a saying: Chinese food doesn't taste good unless you use chopsticks. You have now been warned.

HIDDEN LAKE SOUFFLÉ
A soufflé is a concoction made by putting cooked food--in this case, poached trout--into a sauce, pumping it up with air provided by beaten egg whites and baking. This definition may not satisfy the cognoscenti, and our methods will probably plunge them into a deep culinary depression, but they work, and the results are unspeakably good.

A soufflé is a three-stage affair: poaching the fish, making a white sauce with the poaching liquid, and folding in beaten egg whites before baking. (Note: "c." = Sierra cup) Here are the instructions:

2-4 small (8") trout, cleaned and poached
1/2 c. thick white sauce (see this chapter)
1-2 eggs, separated
salt, pepper to taste

Never separated egg whites from yolks? Crack the egg in half gently against the side of a pot, or strike a knife against the shell. Hold half the shell in each hand. Most of the white will drool into the container by itself. Help the rest by moving the yolk back and forth between the shell halves. Don't kill yourself to get all the white. It's okay if a little yolk stays along.

After separating the eggs, mix a spoonful of the cooked sauce into the yolks so they won't hard-boil, then add them to the sauce to make it thicker and richer. Now toss in the poached fish and seasonings. Stir and remove sauce from heat. Reserve (in tent if there are flies).

Beat egg whites with the spring-loaded swizzle stick or a wire whisk. (If you can spare two eggs, all the better, but one will do, too.) The idea is to get them stiff but not dry. Out here in the wilderness, this isn't always possible or necessary. Basically you're trying to whip air into them. The bigger the pot and the more you agitate the egg whites, the better your chances of ending up with the right product. We've tried to use forks as beaters with little luck. Our trusty swizzle stick was just the ticket until it finally broke down this past year. It seems irreplaceable. (Try some old bar or kitchen-supply stores.) A miniature wire whisk works okay.

Fold the beaten egg whites into the sauce, gently as she goes. Just turn the sauce over on the whites with a spoon till they're pretty thoroughly incorporated. Lose their air and the soufflé will end up with a specific gravity close to that of lead.

Now grease and lightly flour the middle-sized pot (even if you have to do some dish washing and pot juggling to get it free and clean), and pour in the soufflé mixture. It should come about one-third of the way up the pot, depending on how much fish you have. Cover and bake.

You've already got a fire going (to poach and thicken the sauce) so by now the coals are glowing red. Scoop out a pot-sized depression in the ashes near the front of the fire and set the pot down--not on the coals, but on the cleared ground or warm ashes. With a heavy stick, pile coals around the pot until it's nestled up to its lid in heat. If the coals are too hot, the soufflé will burn. If they're too cool, it'll take ages to cook and you'll do a slow burn with it. Ideally, the coals should have lost their most intense heat; the fiery red glare should be going out of them. Baking time will be about 20 to 30 minutes, or a chapter from a good book. You may need to add coals to the pile to keep its warmth constant.

It's permissible to peek but be careful not to knock everything awry or get ashes in the pot. Don't worry if the outside of the soufflé is slightly burned; the inside will be as tasty as promised. The soufflé will actually rise, to almost double its bulk, and will look spectacular. Savor it quickly, however, for it deflates rapidly after taken off the heat. But by then, appetite will take over from aesthetics. Tuck in, eat up.

TROUT CREPES
Once you can poach a fish and prepare a sauce, you also have the makings of the filling for crepes.

2-3 fresh trout, cleaned and poached
1 1/2 c. thick white sauce, made with poaching liquid
seasonings to taste
2 c. crepe batter (see this chapter)

Crepes are made with eggs, so you don't need any in the sauce. Keep the sauce warm, near the fire, and covered while you make the crepes. It's neither easy nor necessary to make all the crepes at once, so eat them in turns as they come off the fire. Put a crepe on a plate, spoon sauce into it, wrap and eat. Then let your partner(s) follow suit.

TROUT, RICE. AND BEAN SALAD
Here's another use of poached trout, especially if you've had an abundance of luck on the lake. Take the leftover poached, flaked trout and add it to our famous Bean and Rice Salad (see this chapter).

Sashimi (Japanese-style Raw Fish)

This book does not aim at conversions. If the idea of eating raw fish turns you green, move on to sauces. But if you like sashimi, learn how to prepare it, because you'll never have fresher fish than the ones you catch. Here are some important facts about preparing sashimi in the wilderness:

• The fish must be absolutely fresh. They can't sit around for a couple hours in a pot, even cleaned. You need to eat them soon after catching or keep them alive until you have enough (say, four or five 8" trout) for a meal. Incidentally, if you're fishing near a snowfield, you can pack your catch in snow immediately, and have them as iced as your local fishmonger's.
• There's not much flesh on a small trout. Some is also lost in skinning and boning. Don't expect a filling meal, but sashimi is a perfect lunch snack.
• There are two ways to prepare it. For both, clean the fish thoroughly. For the first method, skin it and peel the flesh from the bones. To skin a fish, begin by cutting under the fins and yanking them toward the head. Then slice along the backbone from head to tail. With your knife, loosen the skin around the gills. Now work your fingers, the knife or both, under the skin at the head and strip it back toward the tail. Once the fish is skinned, cut away the flesh, beginning at the backbone and working down. Toward the end, fingers work better than a knife. Place the raw fish in a Sierra cup.
• For the second method, bone the fish first, then remove the skin. Spread open the cleaned and beheaded fish, gutted side facing you. With your knife, cut gently along one side of the backbone from top to tail. Do the same on the other side. This severs the spine from the skeletal bones or ribs, and it can be pulled out, working from neck to tail. Last, get the skeletal bones out. Starting from the tail, work your blade under the bones gently toward the neck, turn the knife around, and then come back toward the tail. Starting from the neck, lift the bones away. This leaves a whole, flat, boned fish with the skin still on the "under" side. You can now remove the flesh from the skin by working your blade under the flesh and scraping it away. Start at the tail, which you can grasp for leverage, and move up. You'll have the fish in one piece this way. Again put it into a Sierra cup.
• One word of caution. All this boning and skinning tends to draw flies. Unless you're fast, you may want to do it in your tent. If so, spread a poncho on the floor so the tent will stay clean even if you're messy.
• You need a spicy condiment with your sashimi, as well as some soy sauce. The Japanese use a fiery green horseradish called wasabi. This comes in powdered form. You add enough water to make a paste, which is then added to the soy sauce. The fish is dipped into it and eaten straight away. You needn't carry a packet of dried wasabi. Dry mustard, particularly the good hot kind, will do just as well and is, frankly, more functional, since you can use it in many other dishes. Either way, sashimi is great! Give it a try.

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You can't always count on catching fish, but you can always count on a hot and filling meal if you have any of these great staples of backpacking. They can be eaten alone, hot or cold (though cooked), in stews and soups, in freeze-dried dinners to add bulk and a little real taste, in puddings, salads, omelets and a thousand other dishes. Their only drawback is that they're heavy, so you need to limit the amounts you take and make do with what you can sensibly carry.

Rice
Put two generous handfuls of white rice in the medium pot with a pinch of salt. Add enough water to come up to just below the middle knuckle of your forefinger. This is enough rice for two adults. We can't explain the knuckle measure. It was taught to us years ago, and for reasons that are still mysterious, it's invariably correct. Neither the size of the finger nor the size of the hand nor the size pot seem to matter. Remember: the water will boil faster in the mountains than at sea level. Thus the knuckle measure will give you more water to start off with than you'd use for a good fluffy rice at home.

White rice cooks in about 10 to 15 minutes, depending on the heat of the fire. Brown rice requires more water, to about the middle of the knuckle, and more time to cook. Allow about 25 minutes. To make the pot easier to clean, pour water in it immediately after you've spooned out the rice, and keep it warm near the fire. By wash-up time, the pot almost cleans itself!

FRIED RICE WITH VEGETABLES AND CHICKEN
This joins Trout Tandoori and Fried Rice Chinese Style in the fried rice repertoire.

2 hfl. boiled rice
1 c. mixed dried vegetables, rehydrated in water to cover
1 hfl. chopped nuts
sliced/diced chicken jerky (optional)
1 clove garlic, sliced
cooking oil
hot sauce, spices to taste

Heat the oil in the frying pan, add garlic and nuts till just turning brown, then veggies and spices. Stir and saute till done; add cooked rice, stir till thoroughly mixed. Adjust seasonings.

Risottos
If you've got plenty of fuel and patience—risottos require constant stirring—you can make any of the risotto recipes in Chapter 9 on a camp stove or fire.

RICE PUDDING
This can be a meal in itself—dessert and main course combined. Seem like too many ingredients? Maybe, but check that food list (Table 1) back in Chapter 5. You have all the makings well within your weight limit.

2 hfl. cooked rice
1 sp. milk powder
1/2 c. water
2+ sp. sugar
pinch of salt
cinnamon to taste
1 egg
dash lemon/lime juice
1/2 sp. margarine
1 hfl. chopped dried fruit
dash of brandy (your basic vanilla substitute)
1 hfl. crushed ginger snaps/crackers

Oil or grease a medium pot. Line it with crushed ginger snaps or crackers. Mix the rice, milk powder, water, sugar, salt, cinnamon, egg, lemon juice, margarine, fruit, and brandy thoroughly and add to the lined pot. Cover with more crushed ginger snaps. Cover and bake in coals or in camping oven until pudding is set, about 20 minutes. Eat hot or cold.

If you're out of some ingredients, improvise. No spare egg? You can still make the pudding. It may not be as rich, but no one's measuring on a taste meter. Substitute a spoonful of flour or cornmeal and a little more water. No margarine? Use oil. Ditto for the seasonings--not everyone carries lemon juice or even cinnamon (although no backpacker carrying cinnamon has ever been known to starve in the wilderness). Maybe throw in some Swiss Miss powdered chocolate drink instead of sugar and cinnamon. Fine. And of course the cookie crumbs can be left out.

NOODLES
If pasta palls, go East. Chinese wheat or rice noodles, Japanese buckwheat noodles (soba) are great boiled, fried or baked. They can substitute for almost all the rice recipes: Trout Tandoori; Fried Rice Chinese Style; Trout, Rice and Bean Salad; or Fried Rice with Vegetables and Chicken.

Noodles don't double in bulk when cooked, but the more water you use, the less they stick together and to the pot. Use the large pot, half to three-quarters full of water, add salt, boil and throw in the noodles. Two very generous handfuls will get two of you through a meal. The water should boil rapidly as they cook. They taste done in about 10 to 12 minutes (at moderate to high altitudes). If you plan to use them in another dish, you need time to put it together, just drain the noodles, add fresh cold water to cover and let them stand. This prevents them from sticking together. When everything is ready, drain them again and away you go. If you make a sauce, use the noodle water as the liquid base. It's already hot and flavorful.

COLD NOODLE SALAD
1/2 packet Japanese buckwheat noodles (soba), cooked and drained
sesame oil/regular cooking oil
rice vinegar/regular vinegar
1 hfl. dried mixed vegetables, rehydrated
sprinkling of mung bean sprouts (optional)
salt, pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients in a pot. Adjust seasonings. Serve.

Beans

Beans are so good, nutritious and easily prepared that it's a pity they weigh so much. Nevertheless, they are definitely worth taking along, in limited amounts. And it doesn't matter what kinds you bring. Red, kidney, white, or black beans can all be used with equal ease. Put a couple handfuls in a pot, cover with cold water, cover the pot and soak overnight or for four to five hours during the day. Empty the old water, cover again with fresh water, and cook until the beans are tender, 25 to 40 minutes, depending on the amount and kind of beans and the heat of the fire. That's all there is to it. Use the cooking liquid for making sauces.

Lentils and split peas may be substituted for beans in most of these recipes. Note: Watch your fuel supply if cooking beans on a camp stove. It may cost you other meals down the line.

FRIED RICE AND BEANS
As any Mexican cook will tell you, the combination of rice and beans is a nutritional powerhouse. It's also plain good eating. Spice it up with chili powder, cayenne or hot sauce and you've got a ready-made fiesta. To the recipe Fried Rice with Vegetables and Chicken add cooked beans and fry till done. If spicy, make sure you've got a full water bottle within reach.

FOUR-WHEEL DRIVE VEGETARIAN CHILI
You need a Land Rover to get all the ingredients of this great chili into your car campsite, but the 25 skeptics who recently ate it under the baton of Marc Girouard would now gladly lease a limo if necessary. And if you're a backpacker, just dry the finished product on your home dehydrator and rehydrate over the camp stove. Same results, same bliss.

1 c. dried red kidney (or black or pinto) beans, soaked overnight, rinsed, and simmered in water until done, about one hour
3 onions, chopped
4 Tbs. oil
2 green peppers, chopped
2-3 jalepeño peppers, minced and with seeds removed
3 cloves garlic, crushed or minced
2 bay leaves
1/2 Tbs. ground cumin
2 Tbs. chili powder
1 12-oz. bottle of beer (preferably ale or porter)
salt (optional) and pepper to taste
1 c. corn (fresh or frozen)
fresh cilantro
cheddar cheese, grated
sour cream

While beans are cooking, sauté in a big pot the onions in the oil, then add and sauté the green peppers, jalapeños, garlic, bay leaves, cumin and chili powder till soft. Pour the beer into the pot, add the cooked beans and 11/2 qts. canned tomatoes drained of juices, plus seasonings and corn. Bring to boil. Simmer one hour or longer. (You've brought coals or a hotshot camping stove along so there's no eco-disaster built into the cooking time.) Serve topped with chopped fresh cilantro, cheese, and sour cream. (Omit sour cream if backpacking. It won't keep.)

BAKED RICE AND BEANS IN CHEESE SAUCE
1 hfl. boiled rice
1 hfl. cooked beans
2 c. white sauce
3 sp. sliced cheese
cayenne, chili powder, hot sauce

To the white sauce, add the cheese and stir till melted. Add the rice and beans, mix. Bake in coals 10 to 15 minutes till set. Serve with mariachi music and plenty of water.

REFRIED BEANS
2 hfl. cooked beans and the cooking liquid
cooking oil
hot sauce, pepper
sliced cheese

Drain the beans but reserve the liquid. Heat oil in the frying pan. Mash the beans with a fork or spatula as they're frying. If the beans get too dry, add some of the reserved liquid. Fry slowly, season with pepper and hot sauce. Slice cheese to taste over them. Eat with biscuits and you get a great Tex-Mex meal.

RANCH OMELET
For two adults, scramble three eggs with refried beans and some dried tomatoes. Serve with plenty of hot sauce.

BEAN AND RICE SALAD
2 hfl. beans, cooked, drained, cooled
2 hfl. cooked rice
1 poached trout (optional)
1 hfl. bean sprouts
salt, pepper, lemon juice, sesame oil, mustard powder

Mix all ingredients together. Season to taste. This is a wonderful meal, even without the trout.

BEAN AND SPROUTS SALAD
Same as above, though without the rice. Use half beans and half mung-bean sprouts. Season as above.

BEAN SPROUTS
We always bring some dry mung beans to sprout on the trail. They're a great snack, excellent in soups, fried rice, sauces, soufflés and salads. The first night, soak a handful in a plastic bag. In the morning, drain the water, close the bag and keep in a dark place. While hiking, we carry them in the smallest nested pot; at camp, they're stored in the backpack. Rinse once or twice a day to keep moist, but not wet. They'll sprout in about three days. They don't need to be cooked, but do get moldy fast, so when they're ready, use them. Then begin a new batch.

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For Chinese-style hot-and-sour soup, add a good dash of vinegar and considerable black pepper
For New England-style chowder, add a spoonful of milk powder just before it comes off the fire

In the medium-sized pot, mix together four heaping spoonfuls of flour, 1/4 spoonful of baking powder, and a pinch of salt. Add enough water to make a stiff but smooth dough that you can pick up and handle without half of it sticking to your fingers. Have the flour sack handy so you can keep both hands floured, and if necessary, add small increments of flour to the dough to get the right consistency. Put a layer of oil in the frypan to preheat, and form six to eight small patties of dough, about the size of a muffin and 1/2" to 3/4" thick. (If you like flipping them in the air, cook one at a time.) Let them brown slowly over a moderate bed of coals. If the fire is too hot, the crust will cook too fast, leaving the insides half raw. Flip or use a spatula to turn them, as often as you like. They're done when they sound hollow to the tap of a finger, roughly 15 minutes, and they are more than enough for two ravenous adults.

CORNMEAL MUFFINS
In the medium pot, mix together two heaping spoonfuls of flour and two of cornmeal. Add a pinch of salt, a spoonful of sugar and one of oil, a half spoonful of milk powder, and a quarter spoonful of baking powder. Mix thoroughly, then add enough water to make a smooth dough, easy to handle but not sticky. Keeping your hands lightly floured, form the dough into whatever shape suits you. Cook as above. The result is indecently good, a cross between English muffins and old-fashioned corn fritters, or something like famous Southern hush puppies. Eat them plain, with a sprinkling of sugar, or split open and covered with maple syrup. They're also great with grilled or foil-baked fish.

Variations

The main difference between the pan-fried breads above and griddle breads is that with a covered griddle, you don't always need to use oil in the pan. Just a sprinkling of flour. Watch.

SCOTTISH GRIDDLE-BAKED SCONES
1 c. flour (remember, 1 c. here means a Sierra cupful)
3/4 sp. baking powder or baking soda
large pinch of salt
2 sp. sourdough starter
water

Mix the dry ingredients together. Add the sourdough starter and just enough water to make a soft dough. Flour your hands, mix. Pat into a round shape about 1/4" to 1/2" thick. (If much thicker, they'll burn on the outside before the inside is done.) Cut into six wedge-shaped pieces. Place on a lightly floured frying pan. (Optionally, you may lightly oil the pan and then coat with flour.) Cover with the pan with a metal plate, pot lid, or aluminum foil. Place over "slow" coals. When browned on bottom, turn to brown the other side. When the middle is just dry, they're done. Put on your Scottish kilt, grab a caber to defend against ravenous lowlanders, slather with honey or jam, and eat while reciting the lesser poems of Robert Burns.

Variations

• If traveling with a cooler, substitute buttermilk or sour cream or yogurt for the sourdough starter.
• Add an egg.
• Add a handful of milk powder.
• Add a spoonful of sugar.

GRIDDLE CORN BREAD
This is a skillet-baked variation of Cornmeal Muffins and our other corn breads (see this chapter), though we've altered the proportions here.

1 c. flour
1/2 c. cornmeal
1 sp. baking powder
1 sp. sugar
1 sp. milk powder
large pinch of salt
1 egg
large squirt of oil or 1 spoonful of melted margarine
water

Mix the dry ingredients together. Add the slightly beaten egg, the oil and just enough water to make a moist, pliable dough that you can gently knead. Shape into a round, about 1/4" thick, cut into wedge-shaped slices, bake in a lightly floured, covered skillet over "slow" coals. Turn once when lightly browned. Bake about 10 to 15 minutes.

IRISH SODA BREAD
The chief difference between the Scottish griddle-baked scones above and this recipe is in the cudgel you use to fend off the churls who want to pry the bread from hearth and hand. Down the caber, up the shillelagh!

1 c. flour
1/2 sp. baking soda (or in a pinch, baking powder)
large pinch of salt
sugar to taste
1 sp. milk powder
1+ sp. margarine
water

Mix the dry ingredients. Add the margarine, and with your fingers, mix it in until it is the consistency of a coarse cornmeal. Add enough water to make a moist dough. Shape into a round about 1/2" thick, then slice into wedges (farls to the Irish), and bake on a covered, oiled skillet over "slow" coals. When browned on the bottom, turn them over and continue for another, say, 5-10 minutes, depending on the heat of the flame. Eat to the accompaniment of wild Gaelic verse and a hearty stew. Question: Whaddaya do if you only have baking powder? Right. Rename it Irish Baking Powder Bread and drink a toast to Anna Livia Plurabelle.

Variations

Yeast is also activated by warm water and sugar; it's inert until this is done. Sometimes it gets too inert or stale. Check the date on your yeast packets. It should read at least a couple of months ahead. To activate, sprinkle the amount of yeast you need, usually a packet or less, over a half cup of water that's only warm enough to keep your finger in. Add a couple generous pinches of sugar, mix thoroughly, cover and set aside in a warm place until you're ready to add it to the dough. When the yeast is frothy and expanding, it's ready to use.

Starting the Sourdough
Sourdough is exactly that: a dough made of flour and water that has begun fermenting, thus growing microscopic organisms that give off carbon-dioxide gas and a characteristically sour smell as they feed. In its working form, this is called a "starter" because, like yeast, it initiates the leavening process. Having carried it into the mountains and hung it in a tree to get warm and smelly, you're ready to use it freely in breads, pancakes, etc.

In theory, sourdough starter is a complete substitute for yeast. In frontier days, it was impossible to keep yeast fresh, but sourdough could be replenished every time it was used, thus keeping it alive and ready indefinitely. The best starter comes from the sourdough pot of a friend whose family has kept it, along with great-grandad's Klondike nugget, for a hundred years. Or you can buy dried starter in a health food outlet. But if great-grandad took his starter (and nugget) to the grave, and the store is out, here is a basic starter recipe to make at home before beginning your trip.

Heat a cup of milk, add a cup of water and cool to lukewarm. Thoroughly mix one tablespoon of sugar, a teaspoon of salt and two cups of flour in a large bowl--it's going to expand. Cover the bowl with a towel and leave in a warm place for four or five days or until it looks and smells frothy. Now add a package of yeast. Re-cover the bowl, and let it sit at room temperature for another week. Stir it down each day and don't worry how it smells or looks: the badder the better. Store in a jar in the fridge until you're ready to use it.

Sourdough starter alone was fine for Yukon prospectors, but frankly it takes so long for dough to rise that it often dries out, leaving you with a loaf that looks and feels like a gold brick. We always add yeast to the sourdough starter, hedging our bets. Things move along at a fine pace and the bread tastes better, too.

BASIC MOUNTAIN LOAF
A loaf of bread will be as big or small as you have flour to spare. Everything else is secondary. If you have nothing but flour, water and yeast, you can make bread. It might not win prizes at the Happy Valley bake-a-thon, but it will beat dried-out Triscuits. And with any additional ingredients like salt, milk powder, sugar, oil, sourdough, raisins, nuts, cornmeal, oatmeal, a spare egg, onion, garlic, cinnamon, nutmeg, sesame, poppy or sunflower seeds, to name a few, your breads will become a hedonist camper's dream come true.

The following recipe makes about the smallest loaf that is practical and still plentiful for two people. To double it, use twice as much flour but the same amount of yeast, salt and milk. Smaller pots bake better, though a bigger bread will require a larger pot.

Your basic utensils are: two pots, a plate, a Sierra cup, a spoon and eventually, a bed of hot coals or an Outback Oven.

To one-half Sierra cup of warm water, add a packet of yeast and a couple pinches of sugar. Cover and set in a warm place. In the medium pot, mix together a Sierra cup of flour, a dash of salt, one spoonful each of milk powder and oil or melted margarine. Mix the bubbly yeast into the pot thoroughly. The result will be lumpish, perhaps soggy. Never mind. If a lot of the flour is still dry, add a bit more water, not much. You want a fairly stiff dough, not a batter.

Now turn this out onto a floured plate or flat, clean floured rock. Flour your hands and keep the bag nearby. The aim is to turn this sodden stuff into smooth, springy, velvety dough. You do this by kneading--that is, by folding the dough over and over onto itself. Use the heel of your palm to push the dough away from you, fold it back on itself, give it a quarter turn, repeat, turn, repeat, and so on. If the flour on your hands and the plate doesn't suffice, add flour in very small amounts, and knead thoroughly before adding any more. As you knead, the dough will take shape, becoming firm and springy. Conversely, if it gets too hard to knead (or is hard at the outset), you have too much flour and need a little more liquid, either water or oil, the latter being easier to work in at this stage. Soon, the consistency will be just right. The dough is easy and pleasurable to work. You may find yourself spacing out and kneading just because it feels good. It can't hurt, so enjoy it. No harm if you want to go on for a half hour, though 5 or 10 minutes should suffice. The finished dough will spring slowly back when you poke a finger into it. Don't be dismayed if the dough takes on the hue of your pot-blackened hands or picks up small pieces of dirt. You won't taste or see it, nor contract some dreaded mountain disease.

When the dough is kneaded to perfection, it's ready to rise. Grease or oil the small pot, bottom and sides, and drop in the dough ball. Roll it around so its surface gets fully coated with oil. Now remove the dough, re-oil the pot and dust it with a little flour, a process that helps prevent the baked bread from sticking. Set the dough back in, cover, put it in a warm place and go off to fish, read, sleep, whatever, for an hour or so while the dough rises to double its original bulk.

What's a warm place? Any sun-exposed spot is ideal, unless the sun is searing; then warmth in the shade will be fine. A tent in the sun works. Sometimes we stow the pot in a sleeping bag if the day isn't too warm. Avoid setting the pot near the fire. It may get too hot and bake the bread.

What if it clouds over and gets cold? Not to worry, the rising just takes longer--all day is all right. If it's not ready before bedtime, wait till morning, knead the dough some more to bring the spring back and let it rise again. It's ready to bake when it's doubled in bulk. Incidentally, if you have time, breads are lighter and tastier if you let them rise twice, punching down the dough after the first rising and allowing it to double again. Literally, make a fist and jab the dough in mid-section. It will deflate. Then cover it and let the rising continue.

It's perfectly kosher to peek at the working dough. But it isn't an elevator; you won't be able to see it rise. If things go right, it will rise even if it takes time. If everything goes wrong and it won't rise, just turn the mess into a cake. What if it doesn't rise and you don't want a cake? Pretend it's fully risen and bake it anyway. The fire's heat gives a last lift to the dough, so the finished loaf will be fine, somewhat heavy but just as tasty.

Let's assume, however, that the dough did double, it didn't rain, the coals are still hot and you're ready to bake. If you wish, gently spread a light film of oil or melted shortening over the top of the dough with your fingers or the underside of a spoon. The oil will give a beautiful brown color to the top crust.

Oven-baked bread is usually started at a high temperature (400°F or higher), then after about 10 minutes the heat is reduced to 350°F or 375°F to finish the baking, normally about 50 minutes. To reproduce those conditions in a bed of coals isn't easy, though as anyone who has ever made "coffee can bread" at summer camp knows, it's possible. The basic notion is to nestle the pot in a clearing in the warm ash or dirt, pile hot coals around it, then let them cool as the bread bakes. As more coals are needed to maintain the heat, rake them around the pot. On windy days, when the fire burns hot to windward and cool to leeward, rotate the pot 180 degrees every 15 minutes to assure an even distribution of heat.

Baking time differs according to the heat of the fire (which burns slower with wet wood, faster with dry wood, and hotter with soft wood), the size of the loaf and its ingredients. The basic mountain loaf should take between 20 and 30 minutes (or less on an Outback Oven, which, if wind-protected, disperses the heat evenly and bakes the bread faster). Baking time varies; keep checking. If the loaf sounds hollow when you tap it sharply, it's done. Remove the pot from the coals and set it to cool for 10 to 15 minutes. Under the best circumstances, when nothing has stuck to the sides, the loaf will come out when you turn the pot over and give it a couple of sharp raps on the bottom and top edges. Normally, though, you have to run a knife blade around the edges. In the worst of cases, so much will stick to the sides and bottom that you may have to saw the loaf in half and dig it out in sections. Usually, however, patience, cooling, deft use of the knife and a sharp knock of the pot against a rock brings forth a gorgeous golden loaf. Let it cool, then be prepared to defend your share against invaders from outer space--or your partner--intent on scarfing it down in one mega-bite!

No doubt about it, the Basic Mountain Loaf is a taste of camping heaven. Using the rough ratio of a generous cup of flour to an ungenerous half-cup of liquid, a packet of yeast and kneading until you get a smooth, unsticky, springy dough, you can overcome all but the most exotic forms of munchies. But the variations are better, and within each variation are other endless permutations.

SOURDOUGH BREAD
Use the same proportions and ingredients as above, but add a spoonful of sourdough starter when you add the yeast. Depending on the starter's thickness, you may have to add a little more water or flour to the dough.

RAISIN-NUT LOAF
Also known as cinnamon-nut loaf, apricot-nut loaf, banana-nut loaf, mango-nut loaf, prune-nut loaf, nut-nut loaf. This one's sweet. Double the sugar, and add some cinnamon along with a good dash of baking powder or soda, which help enormously when fruit is involved. At the kneading stage, add half a handful of mixed raisins or finely chopped dried fruits and nuts. Proceed as above. Before baking, sprinkle the top with cinnamon, sugar and more chopped nuts.

JELLY-ROLL BREAD
While the bread is rising, boil some dried fruit, sugar and water into a thick jelly. Punch down the dough and pat it out on a floured plate. Spread the jelly mixture on top of the flattened dough, roll it up and plop it back into the greased pot for a second rising. You can do the same sort of thing with a sugar-cinnamon-nut paste, using enough margarine to hold it together, and come up with the camping equivalent of a morning danish.

OATMEAL BREAD
Prepare a packet of instant oatmeal as though you're making breakfast, let it cool while you put together the dry ingredients (omitting the sugar) and start the yeast. Add the oatmeal along with the yeast and mix thoroughly. Continue as before.

HERB BREAD
To the Basic Loaf ingredients, add the following: a large pinch or two of sugar, a handful of uncooked instant oatmeal, a handful of whole wheat flour (or more, to your taste), a mix of dried herbs—dill, thyme, sage—and some caraway seeds if you've thought to bring 'em along instead of the Walkman. Toss in a beaten egg and a spoonful of melted margaine if you can spare them. This is a super bread and goes great with that vegetarian chili (see this chapter) you've just made.

ONION AND GARLIC BREAD
Fry a large spoonful of chopped onion and garlic until they're translucent. Mix them into the dry ingredients of the Basic Mountain Loaf.

EGG BREADS
An egg in any of the above recipes enriches the bread and adds more taste. If you use one, you may need more flour.

MOUNTAIN CHALLAH
When you add the yeast, throw in an egg or two. Mix thoroughly. You may need more flour than usual to absorb the extra liquid. If possible, let this loaf rise twice. If you have eggs to spare, use a third, separated, as follows: Throw the white into the dough at the outset along with the other ingredients, but save the yolk. Then, just before baking, beat one-half spoonful of water into the yolk, and brush the top of the loaf with the egg and water mixture. It will produce a burnished golden finish that will drive neighboring backpackers into a near frenzy.

SCONES
Skillet-baked scones (see this chapter) are one thing. Oven-baked scones another. We know a couple of blokes who'd be willing to fight the Battle of Culloden over again for the right of first tasting. The chief assumption here is that you've got plenty of honey or jam to apply to these pearls of Inverness.

1 c. flour
1/2 sp. baking powder
1 heaping sp. sugar
large pinch of salt
1 sp. raisins (optional)
1 sp. milk powder
2 sp. margarine
1 or 2 eggs
water

Mix dry ingredients together. Add margarine, mixing with fingers till the consistency of coarse cornmeal. Beat the eggs and add. Then add just enough water to make a soft dough. Knead it on a floured plate just long enough to form a nice round circle, about 1/4" to 1/2" thick. If you've got an extra egg, beat it and brush it on the dough. Sprinkle some sugar on top. Then cut the dough into six or eight wedges. If baking over a campfire, place wedges in a lightly floured Teflon frying pan, cover with foil or a metal plate, set on cleared ground and surround with coals. When golden brown, about 10 to 15 minutes, they're done. If using a camping oven, use a Teflon pan with lid or a small baking sheet which can be covered. Same time. Same station.

Variations

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Pizza
Ranger Ron said it couldn't be done west of Chicago. It's all very well, he argued, to bake bread in a pot, but pizza has to be flat, and the oven has to be hotter than you can get in the wilderness. We showed him something. Pizza is just an open-baked hot bread with lots of good things piled on top. If you have a frying pan with a removable handle, or a pie plate and a piece of aluminum foil, you can bake a gorgeous pizza in the wilderness.

HAL & RICK'S SOUTH SIDE PIZZA
1 packet yeast
1/2 c. warm water
couple pinches of sugar
1/2 c. flour
dash of salt
1 sp. oil
1/2 c. tomato sauce (see recipes, this chapter)
mixed dried vegetables, slightly rehydrated: mushrooms, zucchini, onion, peppers
2 cloves garlic, sliced
sliced salami or jerky (optional)
4-5 sp. sliced cheese
pepper to taste
hearty sprinkling of dried oregano
cooking oil
aluminum foil

Okay, you've got the Basic Loaf rising nicely in the sun. Build a fire, get a big pot of water boiling, beat an egg in a Sierra cup and reserve. When the dough's risen, flour your hands, pull a small clump off the dough, roll in your hands, then form a small doughnut round your finger. Do this for as many bagels as you want, but note that you're only going to be able to bake two or three at a time. Ready? Ease about two bagels at a time into the boiling water. Let 'em rise to the surface, about 30 seconds (45 seconds at high altitude), then turn them over with a spoon and let 'em boil another 30 or 45 seconds. Enough. Take 'em out, pat dry with a piece of toilet paper or your sweaty bandanna, coat lightly with the beaten egg, and set in the greased and floured medium-sized pot. Bake as you would the Basic Loaf, about 15 minutes or until golden. Nosh.

Note: If a couple of bagels each will do, form the remainder of the dough into a loaf, place in the small, prepared pot, spoon the rest of the beaten egg over the loaf and bake. Presto digito! A little challah to warm the heart.

Variations (After boiling but before coating with egg):

• Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds.
• Sprinkle with poppy seeds.
• Sprinkle with chopped, dried onion.
• Sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar (though Hal considers this heresy).
• Use a mix of whole wheat and white flour.

CHINESE STEAMED BUNS (baozi)
Continuing on our multi-cultural journey with the dough for the Basic Loaf, we arrive in China Camp in time for breakfast—or was it lunch, or dinner? Do you care? Steamed dumplings will stop your clock anyway, so who's looking?

The dough has risen and you've concocted a steamer (see instructions that follow). Tear off a small clump of dough, flatten it to about three or four inches in circumference on your hand or on a floured plate. Now place a small spoon of filling (see the following suggestions) in the center, and with your fingers work the dough up and around the filling till there's just a small opening at the top. Pinch that closed. When you've got the water boiling, place the buns on the steamer, cover, and steam about 20 minutes. Eat them plain or dipped in a mixture of soy sauce, vinegar, and hot sauce. Note: If you've got leftovers, re-steam them later. They'll be just as good

Fillings

• Poached trout marinated in soy sauce and ginger
• Chopped pieces of salami, jerky
• Rehydrated veggies seasoned with soy, garlic, ginger
• Left-over stir-fried veggies
• Dried fruit rehydrated with a spoon of sugar (Don't dip this in soy sauce or anything else!)

Variations

• Omit stuffing (1). Just tear off a piece of risen dough, fashion into a roll and steam. This is your basic Chinese steamed bread (mantou). Eat plain or, better, as a dunking tool with soups, stews, stir-fried veggies or fish.
• Omit stuffing (2). Tear off a large piece of risen dough, dust a plate with flour, flatten dough to about the size of the plate, sprinkle lightly with salt and a thin coat of oil. Roll up the dough like you would a rug. Now cut the rug into small (2- to 3-inch) segments, press each segment slightly in the middle with the back of a knife or a chopstick. Steam as above.
• Omit stuffing (3). Use a mixture of whole wheat and white flours. Add a small spoon of sugar to the dough when mixing (before kneading).

Making the Steamer
Face it, you're not going to carry a Chinese bamboo steamer into the outback, though canoeists have been known to do inscrutable things in their day. So, make a steamer. Here are several options:

• Fill your largest pot with a few inches of water. Place the baozi or mantou on the next-sized pot lid and place in the big pot. Cover and steam!
• Carry with you one of those folding aluminum steamers small enough to fit in your largest pot.
• Interlace a number of green branches to fashion a steamer big enough to sit on top of a small fry pan. Lay a clean bandanna or handkerchief over it and place the baozi or mantou directly on the cloth. Cover with a large pot lid or a loosely fashioned dome made of aluminum foil. (You'll be able to use the aluminum foil later for baking.)

In a Sierra cup, mix the warm water, yeast and sugar. Set aside covered in a warm place. When "proofed" (that is, bubbly), add it to the flour, salt and oil in a pot. Mix thoroughly with a spoon, adding more oil and water as necessary to make a workable dough. Knead on a plate till smooth. If it's slightly sticky, that's okay. Set in a warm place to rise in a covered, oiled pot. While the dough is rising, make the tomato sauce and rehydrate the veggies slightly by soaking them in hot water barely to cover till they're partially soft. Drain and set aside.

When the dough has risen, turn it out on a plate and begin to work it into a round, flat shape with your fingers, pushing out from the center in all directions. You can even pick it up and toss it into the air with a spiral motion, like they do at Mama Mia's. It's helpful to catch it. You may need a little flour on your hands for this. When the dough has become a nice, even circle, fit it into a well-oiled frying pan. It should extend part or all the way up the sides. Then spread the tomato sauce over the dough and pile on the vegetables (and salami or jerky). Sprinkle on the cheese, garlic, pepper and oregano. Then drip a very thin layer of oil over the finished product, and cover the pan with foil. Alternatively, place a large tin plate over the pizza and seal it to the frying pan with the foil.

Ranger Ron was right in one respect. The idea is to bake the dough fast, before you burn everything on top. Pizza ovens are extremely hot (about 500°F). But if you put your frying pan on a bed of red hot coals, you'll end up with something you might have to call "cheese-n-charcoal." Instead, set the pan on cleared ground, surround it with hot coals, and slide coals on top of the foil too. Let it bake about 15 minutes. Then work some moderately warm coals under the pan and push others around it and on top. In another 10 minutes or so, the pizza is done.

The dough will be crusty, the cheese melted, and mouths watering. Overlook his chagrin and give Ranger Ron a piece. Tell him it's crow!

HAL & RICK'S CARROLL STREET CALZONE
Okay, you've got the makings of a pizza dough, but you left the Outback Oven at home and you're in a No Campfire zone. What to do? Simple. Make a calzone. Follow the recipe above for the pizza dough. While it's rising, rehydrate whatever you'd like to be in the filling: risotto; veggies; turkey jerky; beans. To cook, heat an oiled fry pan, place the flattened, rounded dough in the pan, spoon in the filling, and fold half the dough over it, and form a pouch by pinching or pressing the top layer of dough to the bottom layer. Fry till golden brown, then turn with a spatula, brown on the other side and remove to a plate. Call in the carabinieri while eating. There's no telling who'd kneecap you for your portion.

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Quiche
One of the best things about the kind of improvisational cooking we've bee discussing is that you're never quite sure what's going to happen next. For more than five years, we'd been baking breads, inventing variations of chocolate cake, igniting brandy and generally congratulating ourselves on the smooth workings of our unbridled imaginations. But we'd never made a pie. Too much trouble, we argued. Too hard. Anyway, what would we fill it with? The answer came from Polly, a doctor who'd lived in the Andes, floated down the Amazon, and survived 20 years in the jungles of Chicago. Five days into the high Sierras in the midst of a hail storm and high winds, she announced she'd make supper that night for six: quiche.

We wished her luck and set her up in the tent to get out of the wind (it's not easy to work with flour in a gale). Every so often, we'd hear a muffled cry for spices, powdered milk or water and we finally put the entire food pack into the tent so she could work in peace. By sundown, the storm had blown itself out and we were all sitting around the campfire complimenting the chef on her work of art.

QUICHE IMPROVISATION
The first thing to do is to make a pie crust of pastry dough, which is different from bread dough. It consists of a mixture of flour and shortening, with just enough water to hold the two together. Here's what you'll need to make a crust in an 8" fry pan:

large pot
spoon
water
5 heaping spoonfuls of flour
dash of salt
4 s