Ciabatta : Fortune and Disaster

Mon, 6 Jul 2009 11:15:46 -0400

The BBA group has reached the letter C in Peter Reinhart’s Bread Baker’s Apprentice. Now that I’m past some personal issues that put the BBA Challenge in the background, I’m happy to return in time to bake ciabatta. When I was baking about 4 years ago, ciabatta was my favorite bread because I liked working with the extremely lax dough. It was such a different experience from the other breads I’d baked. I went into the ciabatta challenge looking forward to the huge holes I should see in this free-form bread.

FIRST GO AT THE RECIPE
While I prefer sourdough recipes, Reinhart uses commercial yeast in many of his formulas, so I stuck to his instructions for the purpose of the challenge. I made the poolish version, bowing from the start to my preference for high hydration doughs. I used active dry yeast, which I put directly into the poolish (oops- should have activated it first). After four hours I did not see any frothiness, but I put the poolish in the fridge nonetheless. The next day I let it sit out for a couple of hours and achieved this bubbly “batter.”

At that point I put the dough together. Now, it’s been a few years since I made ciabatta, and Reinhart’s instructions seemed less laborious than the one I remembered. I remember studying while making ciabatta and taking a break every so often for the stretch-and-folds. Reinhart doesn’t call for all of that, so I can’t imagine whose recipe I followed- unless I’m misunderstanding Reinhart’s instructions. I tend to screw things up the first time around anyway, so I will be making this twice!

The dough increased in volume during the fermentation, but it wasn’t a particularly noticeable change, which had me worrying about the poolish again. I stumbled gaily forward anyway, doing a couple of stretch-and-folds when called for. How many was I supposed to do each time? I only did a couple.

I enjoyed making the couche out of my linens, which I’d ordered online. I divided the dough in two, making one loaf bigger than the other and pretending I’d planned it that way. The dough definitely rose during this last proof, so I had some hope for success.

Baking this dough is a little trickier, as it is so sticky. Actually, baking it isn’t the issue- getting it to the baking stone is the challenge! I managed to get my hand under one end of the dough and the bench knife under the oven. The dough stayed together long enough for me to rush it onto the stone, which I’d covered with coarse corn meal. I baked it for the required 10 minutes and was pleased with its funky shape in the oven. Not much rise, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. When I removed it from the oven 10 minutes or so later, the temperature reached 205F. The crust was light brown and dusty with flour- not bad looking at all.

Time for the second loaf! I try to do things a little differently when I have a second loaf from the same dough, just to give myself something to learn. The second loaf was bigger and more unwieldy. By the time it reached the stone it was shaped like a giant sea horse! I baked the second loaf about 2 minutes longer, which caused it to develop a darker brown crust (cracker-like on a section that had hung over the baking stone) and smelled just as delicious as the first loaf.

The crumb of these loaves was soft and creamy. I was hoping for bigger holes, but I’ve seen ciabatta with holes this size so I don’t feel I completely screwed up.

The taste was absolutely amazing. Nothing to complain about there. The tender crumb revealed a subtle sweetness and a flavor my room mate described as buttery. The crust held a hint of saltiness. These loaves were gone by midnight!

SECOND GO-AROUND
Today’s ciabatta was a mix of wonder and disaster. The wonder came from the huge difference between this dough and yesterday’s. The second poolish actually rose in the fridge, it was so active. The dough I made was of much better quality. It wasn’t so wet that it spread out everywhere (see photo). During the fermentation it smoothed out considerably, making it more flabby than sticky. I could easily feel the gas trapped inside. I didn’t have to flour this dough as much to handle it as I did yesterday’s.

The shaped loaves were easily rolled off the couche onto the baking stone without losing their shape. They had risen quite well and had a bit of a “skin” on them.

The first loaf came out with a beautiful tan color, dusted with flour. Yesterday’s color was a little less rich- perhaps more gray, though still attractive. Today’s baked loaf was lighter than yesterday’s and showed some oven spring.

The second loaf suffered a terrible accident. Somehow I missed the heated pan on the top shelf and ended up soaking a quarter of the dough in water - lengthwise! Then the house filled with light smoke because the water washed some of the cornmeal from the baking stone onto the bottom of the oven, where it burned. And to top it off, I burned my thumb pulling the dough off the stone because it was slightly stuck. Sigh...

All things told, though, the “disaster” doesn’t look too bad. It’s shiny, like those loaves in the grocery store (I can’t stand shiny loaves) but it isn’t too scary looking.

The crumb doesn’t look too much different from yesterday’s batch, though the holes are a tad bigger on average. I think yesterday’s crumb was a bit creamier, evoking more of a buttery sensation. Today’s bread is wonderful, though- soft and still creamy in its own way. I do not taste salt as clearly in today’s loaf as yesterdays

Overall I’m happy with my ciabatta experience, and am thrilled that it has been a big hit with the room mates. I’m even submitting this to Yeastspotting! I will definitely bake this again, and want to try a sourdough ciabatta soon.

Pita Bread

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 00:06:07 -0400

I am a huge fan of pita bread. One of my favorite lunches is taboule, hummus and avocado in a pita loaf. If I’m really hungry I’ll add lettuce and tomato and a little feta. Even when I was eating a 100% raw diet I would eat this sandwich. I simply substituted sprouted wheat pita bread and left out the feta. Bean sprouts are a good addition to this sandwich.

At the farmer’s market this morning I found some locally grown and milled wheat flour. I decided to use it for my pita bread. I used a formula I found on TheFreshLoaf.com. I should point out that I committed a minor sin here by using not only an unfamiliar ingredient, but an unfamiliar bread formula. I had no idea what to expect. I discovered the flour to be more moist than my usual grocery store flour, and perhaps not as finely ground. I should have used bread flour or AP flour for this formula, and used this unfamiliar flour to bake something I’m used to baking so that I could gauge the differences between this flour and my regular bread flour. Oh well- I’m always up for an adventure.

The formula called for:
•3 cups flour
•1 1/2 teaspoons salt
•1 Tablespoon sugar or honey
•1 packet yeast (or, if from bulk, 2 teaspoons yeast)
•1 1/4 to 1 1/2 cups water, roughly at room temperature
•2 tablespoons olive oil, vegetable oil, butter, or shortening

I used organic flour, sea salt, honey, active dry yeast, water and olive oil. The dough rose quite well and was exceedingly sticky. I added flour during kneading to no avail. I even added a 20 minute autolyse period not called for in the formula, but the dough never approached window pane quality. I plowed ahead anyway, dividing the dough into eight pieces after the first fermentation (90 minutes), and rolling them into balls. After the dough balls rested under a damp cloth for 20 minutes they were ready to be baked in a 400 degree oven, which I preheated while I flattened the dough into disks.

The directions called for using a rolling pin to roll the dough out to a thickness between 1/8” and 1/4”. Not having access to a rolling pin, I used my bench knife to flatten the first four disks, and used the handy ruler etched into the knife to gauge thickness.

While baking the first four pitas on the preheated baking stone for three minutes, I never saw the pronounced puffiness I was expecting; the pitas looked rather heavy instead. The end result turned out to be too thick for my liking- more like a flat bread. And while I like flat breads, this wasn’t what I was trying for.

For the next batch, I used the bottom of a pie dish to flatten the remaining pita balls into thinner, larger disks. I made sure not to over- or underbake them; I wanted them to be fully baked without becoming crisp.
I like the final shape and size of these larger pitas, but I’m still disappointed that these aren’t the light, airy pita pockets I was envisioning. I’ll have to practice more with this flour, and should also try the formula with the flours I am accustomed to.

And how did they taste? Well... the jury is out on that. They don’t taste bad per se, but seemed to lack some of the mild, natural sweetness that proper technique brings out of sourdough bread. I didn’t expect the pitas to have that sweetness, of course- this is a totally different formula and baking method, but when I miss that sweetness I tend to perceive a slight bitterness in its place. That perception goes away as my palate adapts to the new bread, so I’ll taste this again tomorrow to see what I think. The next time I bake this, I’m going to follow a suggestion I read to cook it on the stove. That should be fun!

Check out the recipe at TheFreshLoaf.com.

Hamburger Buns

Sat, 6 Jun 2009 01:41:23 -0400

We had a guest this weekend, so my room mates planned a cookout for the four of us. One room mate decided to grill hamburgers, so I volunteered home made hamburger buns. I found a recipe, submitted by bwraith, at my favorite bread site, The Fresh Loaf.
I used:

•AP flour , 650 grams
•Water, 290 grams
•Whole milk, 200 grams
•Olive oil, 30 grams
•Sea salt, 13 grams
•1 package, active dry yeast

These buns were fun and easy to make, and took less than four hours. I wish I had made them bigger, but I wasn’t sure how much they’d rise in the oven, so I stuck to the instructions and divided the dough into 10 pieces. I can see doing 8 pieces next time. I left out the sesame seeds because one of us doesn’t like them but I’d like to use them next time just to get that “look.”

As far as the taste, I was a little worried at first- I thought they tasted a little bitter, being unsweetened. I didn’t dislike them myself, but worried that the others would. Turns out everyone liked them! I froze the ones we didn’t need in a ziplock bag.

A NOTE ABOUT FOLLOWING INTERNET RECIPES
Although this one turned out well, I find that some recipes contain errors or are poorly written. I now read the comments left about the recipe to see if anyone found a mistake or made adjustments to compensate for problems.

Sometimes after thoroughly reading a recipe I’ll rewrite it for myself so that it fits my style of baking. First, I list everything I’ll need, in the order that I’ll need it (including tools); this makes mise en place preparation a snap. I don’t spring any surprises on myself; if something should be added to the dough separately from other ingredients, I leave a space in my ingredients list to indicate this. I like to add time estimates so that I know how much of my day will be devoted to actual labor. Eventually I will convert recipes I find into baker’s percentages and add approximate dough weights.

The recipe for these buns can be found at TheFreshLoaf.com.

The starter is dead. Long live the starter!

Sun, 24 May 2009 19:39:34 -0400

I made two rosemary olive oil boules last week using Silverton’s formula. Although I was pleased with the look of the loaves as far as the coloring and the slightly ragged scoring, I was not pleased with their size. I was disappointed in the modest rises during fermentation and proofing, and unhappy that my scoring didn’t allow the dough to expand in the oven as much as I wanted. The loaves were highly enjoyed by the friends to whom I gifted them, but I knew I could do better.

I attempted another loaf two days later and ended up with a baked brick. The dull and heavy loaf was a signal that the problem was likely to be my starter. I sadly threw out the remaining dough and set out to learn how to maintain Pauline’s vitality. My books and some online sources (particularly the folks at TheFreshLoaf.com) were wonderfully helpful. I learned that because I keep my starter as a batter, I can’t use rising as a telltale sign of its strength. And because I keep so much of it in the refrigerator, I need an awful lot of flour to feed it. I probably wasn’t providing enough during each feeding. Lastly, I was advised to use whole wheat or rye flours when reviving it, as they have more yeast potential, so to speak.

This week I set about reviving Pauline. Following suggestions, I took a quarter cup of the starter and added enough rye flour and water to make a firmer dough. I let this sit for a while, and Pauline rewarded me by doubling in about four hours. Encouraging! I built her up over two days by alternating flours (regular bread flour and rye flour) until I had about 15 oz. I took 12 out for today’s baking and after a feeding, put the rest in the refrigerator for baking later this week.

Now, with Pauline revived, I was ready to bake a decent loaf of country white bread. I received my new oval banneton last week, so I made an oval loaf and my favorite round loaf. By the time I finished making the dough, I could really see the difference between this starter and my last one. I guess I never knew how lovely my loaves could have turned out because I didn’t know what I was missing! This dough rose vigorously during fermentation. During proofing I found for the first time using this formula that my bannetons were too small for the job- each boule crested the lip of its willow basket.

Check out these photos: though I used the same formula, banneton and scoring pattern, the revived starter made an obvious difference in the second loaf. The first loaf has some spreading where I scored it, but it’s barely an indentation. It looks like a flying saucer, and had a denser crumb. Tasty, though! The second loaf really sprang up in the oven, and you can see that it has bigger holes just by looking at the scored area.
By the way, I’m no expert on the effects of scoring - grigne, “ears” and the like- so I have no idea if this is the effect I should be looking for. If it shouldn’t have opened up like this, perhaps I scored too deeply (though I don’t think so) or there was too much oven spring, if there is such a thing. To my eye it looks all right, but I don’t know if it would win a beauty contest.

When I scored previous doughs with a lame I had problems with the dough dragging as I scored. This time I used a sharp serrated knife that was as long as the bread was wide. This allowed me to score with minimal back-and-forth movement and kept the depth about the same along the entire cut. It was easier to ensure that each cut was at the same depth, too. Does it look all right to you? I am pleased.

So now that I’ve got a revived starter, a new banneton and an improved scoring method, my room mates have decided to go on the South Beach diet! They believe in low-carb eating, so I guess this means I’ll be finding new people to give bread to.

Rosemary Olive Oil Bread

Thu, 14 May 2009 21:06:13 -0400

When I was in middle school I was a very unhappy child. There were racial problems in the region I’d moved to, and for the first time in my life I was the brunt of many cruelties. When it was time to enter high school with the big kids I lived in dread, since older teens seemed to be even crueler than middle schoolers. I’d made it through middle school mainly by focusing on my love of foreign languages, so when I learned that my high school had an international youth program called AFS (“American Field Service”), I immediately joined. The student leader of the program at that time was a 17 year old senior who made quite an impression on me. She was self-assured and oozed confidence. I wanted to be just like her. Best of all, in her leadership role she treated me no differently than she treated anyone else, and I was grateful. I developed a strong admiration for her as she adeptly led a group of us kids on a camping expedition. Though we never became friends or even interacted outside of the group, I never forgot her kindness.

Well, many moons later curiosity led me to look her up on Facebook. When I found her I debated whether I should write to her. After all, we’d never been friends. Still, I wanted to tell her how much she’d impressed me and how much I’d enjoyed my time in the group because of her leadership. I went ahead and wrote to her. I was happily surprised to receive a response from her telling me my comments had made her day. Since then, a true friendship has blossomed. When she visited her family here over Mother’s Day we had a fun meeting where we caught up on each others’ adventures since high school. What a remarkable woman she has turned out to be! She leaves this weekend, but I cannot let this new friend go without a gift of one of my favorite levains: rosemary olive oil bread.

MAKING THE BREAD
Nancy Silverton’s country white bread formula from Breads from La Brea Bakery (1996) is one of the most satisfying recipes to make, not only because the results are flavorful and delicious, but because her instructions are so clearly written. Silverton knows the tribulations of the home baker, so she provides a time schedule for one-day and two-day breads that help the reader schedule baking around his/her life.

I’m a big one for mise en place. There is nothing worse than remembering I need salt just when I’ve stuck my hands into the dough! This recipe calls for flour, water, raw wheat germ, my starter (AKA Pauline), chopped fresh rosemary, olive oil and sea salt.

This recipe makes two boules, so I’ll bake the first one as a “warm-up” and the second one for my friend. Silverton’s rosemary olive oil bread is quite similar to her country white bread, with the addition of olive oil and rosemary. I’ve discovered an easy way to incorporate the oil into the dough neatly: I continually grab the dough with both hands and stretch it, occasionally dipping a hand into a bowl containing both the rosemary and olive oil, and mix that into the dough as I fold and stretch it. Folding first each time I add oil, by the way, keeps the oil from spreading all over the board. Everyone has their own way of doing this, but this method works best for me. I carefully stretch and mash the dough together until all of the oil and herb pieces are incorporated. By now the dough is soft and pliable. At this point it is left to ferment for 3 to 4 hours, until it doubles in size.

SHAPING
Of course I want to impress my friend with a great looking loaf, so I get out the willow basket- my favorite brotform. Once I’ve shaped the boules and place them into the baskets, I’ll retard them in the refrigerator overnight to continue developing flavor. I usually put each basket of dough into a ziplock bag so I don’t have to deal with loose plastic wrap.

BAKING DAY
To take the chill off the dough Silverton suggests it be removed from both the fridge and its plastic cover 2 to 2.5 hours before baking. If the house is cool I usually put the dough in the oven with the oven light on. I did this at 9:30 this morning and then went out to do some gardening for a couple of hours. At 11:30 I put a baking sheet of water on the bottom shelf of the oven and set the temperature to 500F. I put the baking stone onto the top rack at 400F. As steam flowed out of the oven vent and door I worried that the oven stone might crack from the intense moisture, and mentally calculated how much money I’d owe my room mate.

SCORING
As the oven approached 500F I set about scoring the loaf. As you can see from the photo it was a rather rough job. Sometimes the blade of the lame drags across the dough instead of gliding smoothly. But though these edges were ragged, I was happy that I’d seemed to make off of the cuts at the same depth. The blade was perpendicular to the dough, by the way, so that I could cut straight down rather than at an angle.

THE FINAL PRODUCT
I was concerned that I might have overbaked this loaf when I saw its dark color - but I love the way it came out. Yes, the scoring is a bit ragged, but that only adds a bit of the rustic element I prefer - I’m no fan of loaves that look like they came out of a machine. I asked for feedback at TheFreshLoaf.com and was told that coloring alone isn’t the best way to judge overbaking; a thicker crust will alert you as well. I gave this loaf to my room mate’s sister, so I’ll have to get a report tomorrow.

Later tonight I’ll bake the final boule and deliver it to my former classmate. Because I want her to be pleased with the appearance, I will aim for a lighter color in the crust, and I’ll agonize over my scoring and shaping skills. But even if I present her with something that looks like a flying volcano, I hope she’ll still enjoy it, knowing it was made especially for her by someone who admires her greatly.

Anadama rolls

Wed, 13 May 2009 20:12:32 -0400

My previous anadama adventure has a happy ending after all. This morning I discovered the loaf almost totally eaten, despite initial comments about it not being one of my roomies’ favorite types of bread. The new conclusion is that it is actually good! One of my room mates took the other loaf to her job and says it was half eaten the next time she looked, and people said they liked it.

Today I decided to try the formula again to see if I could make it even better. This time I followed Reinhart’s instructions to the letter by creating a sponge, which fermented and bubbled as you can see in this photo. No mistakes this time around! Even the windowpane test was more successful.
 
I decided to make one loaf and one set of rolls this time, so after I divided the loaf into two equal halves, I further divided one of the halves into small boules. I made five boules from this half, and treated them as I’d treated the loaf: misted them with water and sprinkled them with cornmeal, then placed them on little round spots of oil I misted from a can (I didn’t want to mist the entire stone).

The shaped dough portions rose for about 90 minutes before I baked them all at 350F. I removed the rolls after 20 minutes, which is when their internal temperature had reached about 195F. They were so cute!

During dinner both of my room mates declared the rolls to be better than yesterday’s bread. I even liked them myself. The molasses flavor was a bit more pronounced. In fact, the bread in general seemed to have more “depth” of flavor. The rolls were the perfect size, with a thin, satisfying crust and moist interior, with a crumb that was less dense than yesterday’s loaves. Definitely a success. Now I can move on to artos!

ANADAMA BREAD

Tue, 12 May 2009 12:10:07 -0400

This bread was an adventure. I have baked sweetened breads before, such as rolls from Reinhart’s BBA book, but other than that I am not much for sweet-tasting breads. This was also the first time I’d used loaf pans, as I prefer the free-form ciabattas and brotforms. Lastly, I made a couple of mistakes along the way! Fortunately, bread with this much flavor isn’t easily ruined by the kind of errors I made while following Reinhart’s formula.

THE ADVENTURE
So, here’s what happened: first, I didn’t read the recipe well enough and was under the impression that the cornmeal soaker was supposed to bubble and otherwise show activity after the overnight rest. The kind folks on the BBA group list reminded me that no, this happens after the yeast is added. DUH. So I went ahead and started making the dough, instantly making my first mistake by adding all of the flour at once instead of only half of it! As soon as I realized this I tried to remove some of the flour, but I didn’t get too far. I noted, however, that Reinhart has given this traditional bread the Reinhart treatment; many anadama recipes don’t call for dividing the ingredients, overnight fermentations, etc., so I knew the bread wasn’t ruined even thought I hadn’t followed his method to the letter.

Because I was letting a thicker dough rise rather than creating a sponge, I didn’t see the type of yeast activity he describes during this hour-long rest period, but the dough rose well and looked fine so I couldn’t bring myself to chuck it (besides, I learn from every mistake I make). I added the remaining ingredients and continued to add flour as I kneaded, until the dough was no longer sticky. Kneading took half again as long as Reinhart advises, but I just “went with it” and kept reminding myself that it’s hard to overknead bread dough by hand. The picture to the left is this dough after the 90 minute fermentation.

I then divided the dough in two and set about shaping my first loaf ever.

Once I formed the loaf I pressed both ends gently towards one another to squish the loaf into the size that would fit into my 9” loaf pan. Since I did not weigh the doughs I ended up with one loaf smaller than the other. Furthermore, I had a loaf pan made of stoneware and another of metal. With two different types of pans and two sizes of dough, I had the opportunity to check for differences in the final loaves. This is why fretting over mistakes always turns out to be fruitless; the experience gained makes it all fun and worth it.

With my loaf pans filled (I see the smaller loaf is a bit wonky there) I let them rest. The stoneware pan held the larger dough. The photos below show this dough when first placed in the pan. The second shows it after the 90 minute proofing. Reinhart says they should crest the top of the pan after rising but in my case: close, but no cigar.

INTO THE OVEN
There was a lot of activity in the oven during the first five minutes- the larger loaf rose above the top of the pan immediately (yes, I was taking pictures through the oven door. Am I a maniac or what?) By now it was after midnight, but sleepy as I was, I was excited to see how this bread would turn out. The house filled with the sweet molasses aroma and got the cats all excited- any kind of food starts them up. After 20 minutes or so I turned the loafs around for even baking, accidentally tearing part of the large loaf. Drats.

I was very pleased with the sweet, comforting aroma and appearance of these loaves after the baking. I thumped the bottom of the large loaf and got a hollow-but-moist sound, and used my digital thermometer to take the internal temperature. It registered the desired 190F. Yay! Just for kicks I took the temperature of the smaller loaf too - it was over 200F.

I let them cool overnight and went to bed, leaving a note for my room mates asking them to taste one. The next morning I found their written response: “Bread was good. A little sweet for our taste, but good.” Uh oh- they were obviously trying to be nice! But I tasted it myself and agreed. I’m not saying it wasn’t good- it actually tastes pleasant. One room mate said it reminded her of breakfast cereal because of the molasses sweetening. It’s mild, a bit moist and definitely sweet, though not overpoweringly so. Still, none of us in this house likes sweetened breads, and I guess we’re just not huge fans of molasses. Our conclusion is that this is good warmed up and slathered with butter, but we probably won’t eat it again.

I may make this bread again to see how much difference a strict following of the recipe would make. I might even try one loaf and one set of muffins- did any of you who baked this think of muffins? Anyway, this was a fun experience. As for the BBA challenge, I’m happy that my loaves look pretty much like everyone else’s. Whew!

Meet Pauline

Sun, 10 May 2009 22:03:33 -0400

Pauline is my sourdough starter. She was born in April, 2009. She has leavened most of my breads and slowly bubbles lazily away in the refrigerator, feasting every few days on the flour and water mixtures I provide to keep her natural yeasts active and her flavor more mild than sour.

When I first named my starter I was, in a humorous way, honoring my ancestors. I see my breads as issuing from Pauline as descendants of the starter, just as I am descended from my own Pauline. It’s a nice metaphor about life, but the truth is that sourdough starters are alive. They leaven breads through a process that includes natural wild yeasts found in the air and in flour, as well as bacteria such as lactobacillus. You may already be aware of this bacteria because of its influence in yogurts and cheeses and fermented foods like sauerkraut. If you have enjoyed kombucha teas, you will have experienced its benefits as well. Lactobacilli create an acidic environment that inhibit the growth of unhealthy bacteria. There is a nice explanation about sourdough starters -or levains- in Wikipedia.

Pauline lives in a lucite container I bought from Bed, Bath and Beyond- a humble home, no doubt, but for home baking I don’t use a lot of fancy equipment. I bought my huge bread board on sale because it was cracked on one side. I use a thin, flat baking sheet as a peel, and cornmeal when I can’t get parchment paper for sliding my doughs from the peel onto the baking stone I borrowed from my room mate. I bought a few items such as brotformen, a Danish dough mixer and a lame from specialty places, but I shop around for the cheapest items possible.

I tend to avoid machines, except the electric oven (I hope one day to build an adobe oven out back so I can avoid the one in the kitchen). No motor-operated mixers or bread machines for me. I don’t even enjoy using commercial yeast because I so love the experience of using my own hands in turning water, unbleached high-gluten flour and sea salt into numerous types of artisanal breads.

As an amateur baker it behooves me to learn about commercial yeasts and many different types of breads, so the BBA challenge is right on time for me. It forces me out of my comfort zone, making me work with different types of yeasts, try new flours and sweeteners, and experiment with herbs and spices. I’ll be using new tools and learning new techniques. I’m looking forward to posting my photos along with those of the other participants. The first bread on the list is anadama, an old New England recipe that includes cornmeal and molasses - I will be making that this week. I wish everyone taking part in the baking challenge happiness and success. I hope to learn a lot from this experience.

Asiago Bread

Sat, 2 May 2009 15:35:06 -0400

Oh, my, this asiago bread was spectacular in so many ways! I followed Nancy Silverton’s formula for Parmesan Cheese Bread (page 99 of her 1996 La Brea Bakery book), which makes one large “disk” of bread. The first spectacle was the price tag on the back of the asiago cheese. I sucked it up and bought it anyway. This bread taught me a few new things and in the end was quite enjoyable to make.

Kneading dough with olive oil added to it is a messy affair, and the dough in the early stages is not particularly attractive to my eyes. I resorted to stretching the dough and then mushing it back together over and over until I had it as well mixed as I thought it was going to get without going overboard on the total kneading. The dough rises a bit less because of all the cheese, but it still rose, allaying my concerns somewhat. It’s nice when things go right at each stage, isn’t it?

On Baking Day I was pretty excited. Right before baking you brush on some olive oil and cover the boule with the remaining shredded asiago. Then you press down on the boule to carefully create a disk, which you then dimple with your fingertips. Interesting! I wondered if the cheese would burn.

I followed my new routine: Preheat the oven and place a baking pan of water on the top shelf. At 400F open the oven and dodge the steam before putting the baking stone on the bottom shelf. Watch steam pour out of the oven vent and door. Open the oven at 500F and dodge the steam again, then slide the boule in. Pour water on the nearly-empty baking pan and shut the door to let the steam expand inside. Set the kitchen timer for 25 minutes. After a minute, open the oven and spritz the oven walls with water for more steam, and shut the door. Repeat a couple times more. Turn the temperature down to 450F. When the kitchen timer goes off, open the door and - GASP WITH AMAZEMENT. This thing was huge! I’m glad I centered it on the baking stone because it took up the entire stone and was bigger than the pizzas I’d made. Holy cow!

The aroma wafted through the kitchen making our mouths water. I couldn’t wait to take it out of the oven. When I did, I was rewarded with a beautifully risen, aromatic disk covered in a lattice of browned cheese. I was secretly happy to not have promised this bread to anyone- I wanted to taste it myself. We had it with soup that evening while it was still slightly warm, and it was amazing. The crumb was creamy white and moist, but not at all dense or cake-like. The holes were small and medium sized- not too big, not too small. And the taste! Rich, a little sharp, a little salty- that’s asiago for you. Much more bang than parmesan would have given. I am in love with this bread. I cannot wait to make it again so I can give it away to someone.

Mmmm, Pizza!

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 15:06:40 -0400

Between the last post and this one I baked more country white boules and also baked Silverton’s Rosemary Olive Oil bread (page 80 of her La Brea Bakery book). I used fresh rosemary, which I chopped finely, and extra-virgin olive oil. This bread smells wonderful during baking and I couldn’t wait to get it out of the oven! I gave the first one away to a friend as a surprise birthday gift so I had only a vague idea of how nicely it may have turned out- a vague idea and hope. When I didn’t hear from her for a few days, I was so worried. I didn’t think I’d managed to kill her, but I wondered if she was being polite by not telling me it was horrid. Truth to tell, I worry about every loaf until I see it sliced or get a report from the recipient. My room mates will say I am a perfectionist, but really I’m not. I just want people to enjoy what I’ve made.

Finally I couldn’t stand the suspense and sent her a “give it to me straight” email (please tell me the truth- I can take it!) I needn’t have worried, as it turned out. She raved over it. Yay!! I baked the second boule the next day and it was gobbled up by my room mates, a friend and I that evening. That’s the fun part about bread- watching others enjoy your hard work and anxiety.

I feel I have gotten a handle on hand mixing, kneading, fermentation, shaping and retarding. I still need practice, of course, but these tasks feel familiar to me now, so I decided to try something new: Peter Reinhart’s pizza dough formula, found on page 210 of The Breadbaker’s Apprentice (2001). This recipe makes 6 small pizza crusts. This being my first time I believe I made the dough incorrectly, as it was way too slack, but I was afraid to add more flour because I may have been wrong in my assessment. The next day, after the overnight retarding, the dough still gave me misgivings, but I went ahead with it. I made a tomato sauce using a recipe from one of the Moosewood cookbooks. This and three cheeses (cheddar, mozzarella and parmesan) were the only toppings.

I baked three pizzas, one at a time. Because I was convinced that the dough was too wet, I par-baked it (did I just make up that term? I mean I baked it part way, like par-boiling) before putting the toppings on, then baked it for the time recommended by Reinhart. My roomie cut into it and the dough was still underbaked! EGADS- back into the oven it went. The next one was baked similarly, but the second baking lasted longer so I could avoid the previous mistake (and might I say, the third one was great!). My room mates both loved the taste of the dough, and I loved the big holes, although I knew they were from the too-wet dough- haha!! We are all looking forward to repeating this formula and grilling the pizzas outside when the weather warms up. It goes without saying that when I build my adobe oven, this will be one of the first recipes to be tried in it!

My Willow Rising Baskets Arrived!

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 13:52:12 -0400

Some of my baking supplies have arrived- how exciting! I used the willow rising basket, or brotform, for today’s version of Silverton’s country white bread and I am loving the results. Except for the crappy scoring job I did (check out the back of the loaf) it came out looking very attractive as far as the shape and color.

I love the reddish/brownish/yellowish colors I achieved in this loaf by not overproofing the dough, meaning not letting it ferment too long during one or more of its resting periods. I learned that when I overproof, the yeasts eat up all of the sugars, leaving none to provide that beautiful coloring during the last stage of baking. I actually like the light brown coloring, but knowing what causes it is important, as overproofing affects the amount of rise as well as the taste. One of my previous loaves was a lighter color than this one because I either let it ferment (first rise) too long or proof (the period of rest after the shaping) too long.

Silverton’s formula creates two loaves, so I bake the second one the following day and try not to repeat the mistakes of the prior loaf. I seem to do all right not repeating the exact same mistake, but I always seem to find a way to make a new one on the second loaf! My mom and dad received one of these loaves, which they ate with their cioppino. My room mates and I enjoyed this one.

I have two new methods now: I put the baking stone into the oven when it reaches 400F. This seems to help keep the crust from getting too brown. I’m also putting a pan on the shelf above the baking stone and filling that with water to create a burst of steam. I also spray the sides of the oven. The crust is not chewy when I do this- it’s more crisp.

Learning to Score

Tue, 21 Apr 2009 14:25:45 -0400

I love the fact that Silverton’s country white bread recipe provides two loaves. This gives me two chances to work on proofing, that period of rest where the yeasts are working at converting the carbohydrates (like glucose) into carbon dioxide. If I mess up here, the flavor and the amount of oven spring are affected and I could end up with a less flavorful and smaller loaf. I also get another chance at scoring. As you can see here, I used a star pattern and again messed up the cuts by pushing the lame more deeply into one side than the other. Centimeters make a big difference! Oh, well- I have plenty of more loaves to practice on and hey, practice makes perfect, right? I apologize for the quality of this photo, as I used my cell phone rather than my camera.

My favorite part of making this bread is the kneading after the autolyse. After I’ve heaped my ingredients together in a huge bowl, mixed them a little with my hands, and then poured the whole mess onto my breadboard for a 5 to 7 minute kneading, I cover the mixture with a towel and let it sit for while. During this twenty minute autolyse the chemical structure of the dough is changing, transforming the texture of the mixture. It’s beautiful!

To keep myself from counting the minutes before I can return to kneading, I clean the kitchen and put away my tools. When I finally lift the towel, I face a much different dough: it’s no longer a slightly rough lump of flour and water. It’s a stretchy, smooth, satiny dough flecked with wheat germ. Suddenly I feel I’m in the home stretch. I’m really making bread now! I sprinkle sea salt on the board and knead it into the dough for seven minutes or so. The salt firms it up and makes kneading easy and fun- a nice workout. I can feel the life in the dough: the gases are moving around beneath the surface as I knead, giving the dough a springy sensation.

When dough is as smooth as a baby’s bottom I try stretching a small piece of it to see how thin I can get it without it breaking apart (I’m still learning when to stop kneading but thank goodness it’s hard to over-knead by hand). In this formula, the wheat germ interferes with that classic window pane test where you stretch the dough until it becomes see-through without breaking first. With practice, however, I’ll know how to attain the equivalent of that test for this dough. I’ve been doing a decent job, though, since my room mates love the country white bread- and I love making it!