some thoughts on Lembas

One of my daily foods is bread. I make my own, using a bread machine: a rye and whole-wheat yeast bread with raisins and (when available) cranberries, sweetened with honey and sorghum. It is dense, dark, complex in flavor, and I love it.

This Lent, it occurred to me that I ought to give it up. In its stead, I am eating hardtack. My recipe is based on "The Joy of Cooking's" recipe for "Ship's Biscuit," with a good bit of adaptation to make it healthier. I had not made any for several years, but I used to make it as hiking or automobile-journey and camping food. I think of it as Lembas, the "waybread" of the Elves.

In reality, what I make is a form of "Cram," the waybread of the Men of Dale, for I am human, not elvish, not given the grace to make something as high and good as Lembas. But Our Lord took common human bread, not the bread of angels, and made it into the Holy Sacrament of his Body, so even our most usual bread has spiritual connotations, if we are open to them and eat with thankfulness.

Here is my recipe:

1 cup rye flour (see note below)
3 cups whole wheat flour
¼ cup soy flour
¼ cup powdered milk
(the above two ingredients, when added to the flours, make "Cornell mix," a complete protein)
optional - ¼ cup brewer's yeast (adds more nutrition, and a very nice flavor)
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ cup or less of vegetable oil

(Note: Rye's quick-growing properties, even in climates with limited sunshine, are perhaps what JRRT had in mind as the grain used for lembas. From "History of Middle-Earth," vol. XII: "The Eldar say that they first received this food from the Valar in the beginning of their days in the Great Journey. For it was made of a kind of corn which Yavanna brought forth in the fields of Aman, and some she sent to them by the hand of Oromë for their succour upon the long march. . . .
Now this corn had in it the strong life of Aman, which it could impart to those who had the need and right to use the bread. If it was sown at any season, save in frost, it soon sprouted and grew swiftly, though it did not thrive in the shadow of plants of Middle-earth and would not endure winds that came out of the North while Morgoth dwelt there. Else it needed only a little sunlight to ripen; for it took swiftly and multiplied all the vigour of any light that fell on it."

I once tried this recipe made entirely from rye flour; it is possible, but it turns out much better with the whole-wheat flour. It can be made from 100% whole-wheat flour, but I use the cup of rye flour for its connection in my mind with the above Lembas lore from JRRT.)

Back to the recipe:

Mix the dry ingredients. Add the vegetable oil to enough water to make a stiff dough (about 1-1/2 cups, usually).

Turn it out on a board, and pound it with a mallet until it is about ½ inch thick. Fold it six layers thick (i.e., in thirds one direction, then in half the other direction). Pound it flat again. Repeat the process five or six times.

[Note: I live in an apartment, and the neighbors (and my wife) complain about the noise when I use the mallet, so I roll it out with a rolling pin instead. This works just as well, but you have to lean into it pretty hard.]

The final time, when it is about ½ inch thick, cut into shapes as desired (I do 1 inch squares), and bake on an ungreased baking sheet thirty minutes or more at 350 degrees, or until lightly browned.

The first time I made it, the surprise was the texture. I was expecting something cracker-like, or rock-hard as proper Hardtack is supposed to be. Instead, the little one-inch biscuits are, well, sort of "springy." Even without any leavening, all that folding introduces enough air so that they raise just a little bit, and have a very satisfying feel to them. They must, nonetheless, be eaten slowly; they are not something to wolf down.

From "The Fellowship of the Ring," chapter eight: "The food was mostly in the form of very thin cakes, made of meal that was baked a light brown on the outside, and inside was the colour of cream."

Mine are lightly browned on the outside and have just a bit of color inside. "Colour of cream?" Well, sort of. What one tastes is the elusive hint of natural sweetness from the whole grains. They are quite sturdy, but if broken, they tend to crumble.

The best part is their compactness and satisfying nature for hiking or other travelling; four or five one inch squares and a handful of nuts (I do a mix of sunflower seeds and peanuts) and a bit of dried fruit, all washed down with water, makes a very satisfying meal. Not filling by any means, but one finds that one can keep going all morning (or afternoon) on it. I have lived quite comfortably on this diet for trips up to a week. In hot weather, the biscuits start getting moldy after five or six days - I am not sure how wise it is, but I scrape off the mold and eat them anyway. That works well enough so long as the mold is not excessive, for the surface is so firm and non-porous that the mold does not penetrate for a long time and can be scraped off with a knife or a fingernail. With hardtack, one of the standard preparations in the old days before eating it (besides scraping off the mold) was to whack it hard on a tabletop, so that the weevils would scurry out. I have not faced that problem. Nor, sadly, have I mastered the art of making and storing it so that it will last for a long time. During the War Between the States in the 1860's, some in the Union Army were fed hardtack that had been baked and "put up" during the War of 1812. "Tastes the same as when it was baked," the men said (with considerable irony).

With Cram, JRRT was doubtless thinking of ship's biscuit, which had been a staple of the Royal Navy for generations and probably used in the Royal Army during his military service. He described Cram as "more of a chewing exercise" than anything else; certainly true of hardtack when it is well-aged. "Molar-breakers" is one term for it, and many creative ways to soften it to an edible state were developed, such as soaking it in coffee.

Though it has similarities, Lembas is something other than Cram. JRRT was perhaps thinking of Eucharistic wafers, the "viaticum," and the connections of the Eucharistic bread with Scripture passages such as St. John chapter 6 - ("I am the bread of life... he that eats this bread will live for ever." - vv. 48, 51) and with the Manna in the desert: Psalm 78:25, "So mortals ate the bread of angels..." Manna fits some aspects of the Lembas description very well: Exodus 16:31 - "And the house of Israel called the name thereof Manna: and it was like coriander seed, white; and the taste of it was like wafers made with honey." The people lived almost exclusively on manna for forty years, and although it satisfied every need, it did not satisfy desire: they grew tired enough of it to complain and desire the "fleshpots of Egypt" with the onions and leeks and cucumbers.

From "The Return of the King," chapter three: "The lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have lain down to die. It did not satisfy desire, and at times Sam's mind was filled with the memories of food, and the longing for simple bread and meats. And yet, this way bread of the Elves had potency that increased as travelers relied upon it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and it gave strength to endure, and to master sinew and limb beyond the measure of mortal kind."

At Easter, I plan to return to my yeast bread. I look forward to it, as Aragorn and the hobbits looked forward to the tables of the House of Elrond. But for now, I am finding my "lembas" satisfying in ways that I cannot explain except in spiritual terms. And I find that their virtue grows as this journey of Lent proceeds.