Wednesday, June 03, 2015
I love this bread as much as I did the first and second times I made it, so I think I can safely say that it's a loaf that you'll want to keep in your repertoire. This time, I noticed that it tasted a little bit like corn, but I really think that must be some kind of trompe l'oeil effect. With the yellow color and slightly grainy texture, it looks slightly cornbread-ish, but there are no corn or corn-related ingredients in it. The yellow is from butter and egg. The soft but somewhat granular texture is perhaps attributable to the ricotta, although I can't support that theory with any actual information.
I may have destroyed my food processor with this bread. If so, it will at least have died for a good cause. The butter wasn't soft enough, which I didn't realize until the processor started groaning. There were still big unincorporated pieces of the butter when the groan turned to a wheeze, and I decided it was time to take it out.
I kneaded it by hands for a few minutes until all the butter was mixed in and a little more flour was incorporated. It turned into a soft and only slightly sticky dough.
The rest was easy enough--so easy that Jim missed shots of the shaped dough going into the loaf pan, as well as shots of me slashing the bread. I actually think he may not like being in the same room with me when I'm armed with the bread slasher.
It was done after 35 minutes. I didn't bother to take its temperature because the "thwonk" it makes when it's done is pretty reliable. At least I've never burned a loaf of bread (although I suppose there's always a first time).
The last time I made this bread I must have been on a healthy foods kick because I forewent the optional melted butter wash (why would I do that?), and I ate my first slice with lemon curd, trying to pass it off as a fruit. This time I slathered it with butter, both melted and room temperature. My new motto is, "When you're 70, you can do whatever you want to." This motto is no good until you're actually 70.
Tuesday, May 05, 2015
I wish I remembered baking these biscuits in my first Bread Bible go-round, but when I read the directions, it brought back exactly nothing. Moreover, the directions didn't make sense to me: was all the one cup of flour (not self-rising) supposed to go on the biscuits? Was I supposed to dust off the extra flour or add even more? My first blog post was of no help whatsoever--there was only one picture (which turned out to look better than my second effort) and no description of the taste or texture, which is what I was interested in.
In the first post, I said I had some self-rising flour, but I couldn't find any White Lily because apparently we are too far north (still true). I knew I had some self-rising flour in my flour cabinet, so I wasn't worried about that. Just before I started measuring the flour, I had an uneasy feeling that I'd better check the use-by date because, now that I thought about it, I actually couldn't remember buying any self-rising flour in the recent past. Uh-oh. Use by May 7, 2006! This must be the same bag of flour I bought for the biscuits the first time I made them. I hate to think how this ten-year-old flour would have performed. I threw it out, and used a combination of bleached flour, cake flour, baking powder, and salt.
I think that's enough pictures of flour bags for the day.
This is one of just a few of Rose's recipes that uses vegetable shortening instead of butter. I'm glad it's not a trend.
All the ingredients after they rest for a few minutes. As promised, it's a very soft dough, although, thankfully, it seems to have more structure than mashed potatoes.
At this point, I do remember making the biscuits ten years ago. I remember because when I read the instructions and saw shaping your fingers like a C, I had no idea what she was talking about, but it became clear when I actually did it. This is the same reaction I had ten years ago. This time I didn't make the biscuits large enough because I had more than 9. They looked better when I was a rank amateur.
They're darker and not as high as my 2006 pan of biscuits was. I like the color, but I wish they were higher. Now that I taste them, I can sort of see why I didn't try to describe them. I'm not sure I can describe them now. They were very soft, fluffy, and tender--almost too tender and soft, especially when warm. They were hard to break apart (even using the fork tine method) when they were warm, and they lost some of their flavor when they cooled. Jim loves these biscuits--he really gobbled them up. Some with butter, some with jam, some with butter and jam, some plain. He liked them all ways. I think I prefer a more substantial, flakier biscuit that's rolled out and cut with a biscuit cutter. But I'm pretty sure there are a few more biscuit recipes in The Bread Bible, as well as a few fabulous scones, so by the time we're done, we'll all have our favorite. Unless, of course, we forget about them before we get to the end of the book.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
When I made pita bread in my first go-round of The Bread Bible, I wasn't even using photos. I envisioned writing a paragraph or two about each bread, and it wasn't until the fourth or fifth week that I started using photography. That is, I started Jim's career as a food photographer. This time he took 59 photos, not counting the ones he discarded, for me to choose from.
This is about as basic as bread dough gets: flour, water, salt, and yeast (with a bit of olive oil thrown in).
After 10 minutes in the KitchenAid, it's soft and shiny and lovely to stretch. I added just a few grams of extra water to make it a bit stickier.
After being in the refrigerator for 24 hours, it's grown, even though it was brutally punched down for the first few hours of its stay. Apparently pita bread dough has a masochistic streak.
This looks like I'm trying to make pita croissants, but I'm just cutting off bits of dough to make every piece about 100 grams. (I made the six-inch size).
My favorite rolling pin has tapered edges, so Woody doesn't think I should use it for pie crust. Neither does Jim. They both claim that it will lead to uneven dough, but it's French, and they should know what they're doing, right?
One of my more evenly rounded attempts, and my oven test case.
This is how it looked after 3 minutes. It looks a little doughy in the middle, but it was actually done. I baked the rest of them for 4 or 5 minutes, though, and they puffed a little more.
Some of them puffed like crazy!
At 5 minutes, they definitely get some color, but I preferred them that way.
I used them as a base for a dinner sandwich: cheddar cheese, thinly sliced apples, toasted walnuts, thyme, bacon, and Parmesan. Delicious, especially the last bites of crispy crust. When I ate that crust, I could really tell that this was a variation of Rose's pizza crust recipe, which we'll get to eventually. At one bread a month, it's going to take us a long time to get through this cookbook, but I guess we're not in any hurry.
Tuesday, March 03, 2015
It's hard to understand how I could have such fond memories of the biggest baking disaster of my life--this very same beautiful rosemary focaccia, the first bread I made from The Bread Bible, and one that almost led to the death of my nascent bread-baking hobby.
Those who have known me for a while know this story already, so feel free to skip through it. I got The Bread Bible for Christmas in 2005 and decided I would bake all the recipes in a year. I got a new KitchenAid mixer and started in. You know the part of the recipe where it says it will take 20 minutes of steady beating to turn into dough? Well, I mixed and mixed, and it never did. After 40 minutes, I gave up, and stuck the runny mess into the oven, after which it became a mass of gummy cardboard. I sent off an indignant email to Rose, never expecting to hear from her, but in less than a half hour, she sent me a kind email telling me that lots of people had trouble with this bread, but it really was fantastic if it worked. Only after my second failed attempt, when a clever blog reader noticed a picture showing me using the dough hook instead of the paddle attachment did I realize that the fault was not in Rose's recipe, or even in the stars, but in me and my apparent inability to read.
The bread works when you use the paddle attachment.
In fact, it's really fun to make because it goes from this....
To this.... Look at that gluten developing! You know it's going to work now.
This dough is so aesthetically pleasing, and so wonderfully tactile. At some points you almost think it doesn't even matter how it turns out, because it's so fun to work with.
The dough rose with gusto the first time (it was in my proofer at 78 degrees). The pan didn't fit in the proofer, so it rose - very slowly - in my cold kitchen for the second rise. After a while, I decided it had been out long enough and I would rely on oven spring for the rest.
I dimpled it, tore off fresh rosemary leaves, and sprinkled Maldon sea salt all over. Back in the day, I didn't have Maldon sea salt. Don't you sometimes marvel at all the food that you use routinely now and had never heard of 20 or 30 years ago? Maldon sea salt is one; actually, focaccia is another. Probably some of you young people never had to undergo a life without focaccia, but I did. And I also walked 5 miles to school.
It took a little, but not much, longer than 13 minutes to reach a stage of golden brownness. I wish I'd thought to poach the garlic and do that variation because it's delicious. I also wish I'd used a bit more rosemary because it dried and shrunk in the oven.
Otherwise, I have no complaints. As I look through the cookbook, I can't believe that I made every bread in the book in just one year. But I'm glad we're going at a slower rate this time.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
This is my favorite Tartine bread so far, and, even though it requires the extra step of toasting the walnuts (and I added the step of scrubbing off the bitter walnut skins), it seemed the easiest. First, I finally decided to cut the recipe in half. Although it's still a lot of time invested for one loaf of bread, it's also easier not to bake one loaf, clean the pan, and bake another. Second, I simplified the process by making my own abbreviated list of steps:
[Night before: make fresh leaven]
1. Mix dough
3. Add salt and water.
4. First rise:
5. First shaping
6. Bench rest
7. Final shaping
8. Line basket with flour mix.
9. Final rise
10. Preheat oven and pan
11. Put dough in hot pan
13. Bake with lid
14. Bake without lid
I'd read through the walnut bread recipe once, and was actually able to make the bread by referring only to this list. The only thing I couldn't remember was the oven temp, so I had to check that. Otherwise, I just went by memory. I forgot that the water was supposed to be heated to 80 degrees, and I also forgot how long the bread was supposed to bake with and without the lid (but I checked that when I checked the oven temp, so I guess I forgot two things, but I only had to check one time).
I've also decided to use my KitchenAid with its dough hook instead of mixing the dough by hand, as Robertson tells you to do. Yeah, I know that if I were a true bread baker, I'd want to touch the dough, but I get enough touching by turning it every half hour. (This time I turned it every half hour for between 4 and 5 hours, instead of the bare minimum 3 that Robertson instructs. I think that's the main reason that I was almost completely satisfied with this version).
See? I'm touching it like crazy. It actually is very satisfying tactilely: soft and smooth as the proverbial baby's bottom.
Bread that doesn't get done until dinnertime becomes dinner. With sliced apples and pears, cheese, and walnuts in the bread, it's a pretty completely meal, although high in fat, I suppose. But I'm pretty sure that the same people who are now telling us that coffee and wine are healthy are also sanguine about "good fat," which would include walnuts (although not cheese, I guess). But maybe that message will come next year. Oh, and by the way, if the people who announce that cheese is good for you would also mention that the best weight for someone past their prime is about 20 pounds more than when they were 18, I'd be pretty happy.
This is the last Breadbasketcase post I'll do for a while--maybe forever, depending on whether this break turns out to be just a hiatus or the end of this blog. I've been doing this since December 25, 2005, my first post, so it's been just over 7 years. I don't even want to count how many loaves of bread I've made, but it's been a lot.
More important than the bread I've made are the people I've met (or at least we've met in cyberspace, if not in the real world), including the wonderful Rose Levy Beranbaum herself. I'll also miss working with my ace photographer, who has gone through at least three cameras in the course of Breadbasketcase. We'll have to come up with another joint project, like sailing the world.
I have no interest in giving up on bread, but I find myself wanting to return to bread I've made before, and wanting to devise my own recipes. I've tried not to repeat recipes on this blog, although I know there have been a few that I've made again without even remembering that I'd made them before. And trying to perfect a new recipe is probably not something that would make for entertaining reading. But if I ever do come up with the best bread I've made, you'll read about it here.
Posted by Marie at 1:45 PM
Sunday, December 23, 2012
I made this just a week after my first Tartine bread, and am only just now finding a few minutes to write about it. This bread was not as astounding as the first Tartine effort (although still quite good), and, looking at the pictures, I think I can spot several reasons why.
First, the semolina flour was coarser than I would have liked. The Semolina Bread recipe does call for semolina flour - not surprisingly - but I remembered too late that Rose's semolina recipes all specify durum flour: made from semolina, but lighter and finer. I think that would have been better.
Second, although this bread method does give you large spans of unattended time, you really have to think through the timing, and you can't just run off mid-bread. The initial rise requires "folding," which is this bread's kneading equivalent, every half hour. And Robertson says you can't rush this period. Unfortunately for me, I gradually realized that I was going to have to rush it a little because I was going to be gone from the house for a few hours mid-afternoon. Going through the timing in my head, I concluded that I was either going to have to end Phase 2 after just 3 hours (the minimum time), or I would end up putting the bread in the oven at midnight.
And, although I was surprised to see that my starter was very exuberant (after the first bread, I started keeping it in the refrigerator and feeding it only weekly or as needed for bread), three hours still wasn't long enough for the first rise.
Third, I opted to use a mixture of sesame and poppy seeds only on top of the bread, while the recipe calls for those seeds, as well as fennel seeds, in the bread as well as atop the loaves. I like fennel, but I didn't want two loaves of fennel bread--it's just too limiting.
Only as I write this does it occur to me that I could cut the recipe in half. Duh. I often double recipes, but I so rarely halve them that I just didn't think about it. Making only one loaf at a time will also decrease the time spent on the bread. Anyway, I think the bread would have been more flavorful if I'd incorporated some seeds into the dough, especially since most of the topping seeds fell off.
Finally, the step where you plop the bread dough into a burning hot pan didn't go well this time. With both loaves, the dough didn't settle neatly into the pan, resulting in an uneven loaf. Well, I suppose this isn't serious, but you'd like the bread to be beautiful rather than misshapen.
Jim, bless his heart, was trying to take pictures that didn't reveal that one side of the bread was an inch taller than the other side, and one side had a little ledge where it stuck to the side of the pan. But you can see the objectionable shape in this photo.
You can also see it in this picture, which shows that the texture of this bread is not as good as in the first loaf. I think this is because I had to rush the first step. (And remember that by "rush," I mean that it only sat around for 3 hours.)
Am I discouraged? I am not. But I am looking for a day where I have nothing to do but to check the progress of the dough in the first rise. A lazy sort of day. A don't-rush-me sort of day. I hope I'll have one of those in January. Which sounds like a fine resolution to make, and one that's more keepable than my standard "eat less, exercise more" vow.
Posted by Marie at 2:54 PM
Sunday, November 11, 2012
folding bread proofer. I set the proofer for 81 degrees. Otherwise, it would have taken all day for the dough to get to its next stage. rice flour and wheat flour.
Posted by Marie at 8:04 PM