Gluten in Munitions, Why?
May. 14th, 2013 09:08 pmI finally understand a passage from Mary Grant Bruce's *Back to Billabong* about 'war flour'. Apparently gluten was taken out of war flour and put into munitions. Of course, this just poses another question - why?
'Cakes!' said Wally faintly. 'Jean, you might catch me if I swoon!'
'What's wrong with cakes?' said Jean Yorke, bewildered.
'Nothing - except that they are cakes! Jim!' he caught at his chum's sleeve - 'that substance in enormous layers in that enormous slice is called cream. Real cream. When did you see cream last, my son?'
'I'm hanged if I know,' Jim answered, grinning. 'About four years ago, I suppose. I'd forgotten it existed. And the cakes look as if they didn't fall to pieces if you touched 'em.'
'What, do the English cakes do that?' asked a pained aunt.
'Rather - why there are any. It's something they take out of the war flour - what is it, Nor?'
'Gluten, I think it's called,' said Norah doubtfully. 'It's something that ordinarily makes flour stick together, but they took it all out of the war flour, and put it into munitions. So everything you made with war flour was apt to be dry and crumbly. And when you made cakes with it, and war sugar, which was half full of queer stuff like plaster of paris, and egg substitute, because eggs - when you could get them - were eightpence halfpenny, and butter substitute (and very little of that) - well, they weren't exactly what you would call cakes at all.'
'Cakes!' said Wally faintly. 'Jean, you might catch me if I swoon!'
'What's wrong with cakes?' said Jean Yorke, bewildered.
'Nothing - except that they are cakes! Jim!' he caught at his chum's sleeve - 'that substance in enormous layers in that enormous slice is called cream. Real cream. When did you see cream last, my son?'
'I'm hanged if I know,' Jim answered, grinning. 'About four years ago, I suppose. I'd forgotten it existed. And the cakes look as if they didn't fall to pieces if you touched 'em.'
'What, do the English cakes do that?' asked a pained aunt.
'Rather - why there are any. It's something they take out of the war flour - what is it, Nor?'
'Gluten, I think it's called,' said Norah doubtfully. 'It's something that ordinarily makes flour stick together, but they took it all out of the war flour, and put it into munitions. So everything you made with war flour was apt to be dry and crumbly. And when you made cakes with it, and war sugar, which was half full of queer stuff like plaster of paris, and egg substitute, because eggs - when you could get them - were eightpence halfpenny, and butter substitute (and very little of that) - well, they weren't exactly what you would call cakes at all.'