Bush Bread

Bush bread, or seedcakes, refers to the bread made by Australian Aborigines for many thousands of years made by crushing seeds into a dough after which it is baked. The bread was high in protein and carbohydrate, and helped form part of a balanced traditional diet.

With the arrival of Europeans and pre-milled white flour, this bread-making process all but disappeared (women were still recorded to be making seedcakes in Central Australia in the 1970s). The tradition of cooking bread in hot coals continues today.

Bread-making was a woman's task. It was generally carried out by several women at once, due to its labour-intensive nature. It involved collecting seasonal grains, legumes, roots or nuts, and preparing these into flour and then dough, or directly into a dough.

Read more about Bush BreadBread-making From Other Plant Products, Burke and Wills

Other articles related to "bush bread, bread":

Bush Bread - Burke and Wills
... Ill-fated explorers Burke and Wills survived on bush bread for some time after they ran out of rations due to the death of their camels ... The Cooper Creek Aborigines, the Yandruwandha people, gave them fish, beans called 'padlu' and bread made from the ground sporocarps of the ngardu (nardoo) plant (Marsilea drummondii) ... It is possible that the explorers, in preparing the bread themselves, were not preparing it in the traditional way of the Aboriginal people, which may have involved soaking seeds prior to grinding in order to ...

Famous quotes containing the words bread and/or bush:

    In this sad state, God Tender Bowells run
    Out streams of Grace: And he to end all strife
    The Purest Wheate in Heaven, his deare-dear Son
    Grinds, and kneads up into this Bread of Life.
    Which Bread of Life from Heaven down came and stands
    Disht on thy Table up by Angells Hands.
    Edward Taylor (1645–1729)

    Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all. And another storm brewing, I hear it sing i’ the wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head. Yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.
    William Shakespeare (1564–1616)