A Bread A Day

It is with great joy that I can now invite all of you over to my new site, One Hundred Eggs!  There is joy not only because I’m excited about my new blog, but also because now I’m finally done with the coding nightmare that comes with trying to make a website look pretty when you know absolutely nothing about the process.

But after all the failed attempts, I finally hit on the combination that worked, and the site is up and running!  Phew!  Now I can get back into the kitchen, and just see what happens.  Thank you all, my Dear Readers, for sticking with me all this time.  I truly hope you like the new site; please let me know what you think!

Go here!  One Hundred Eggs

This is the post I’ve been both keenly looking forward to all year, and dreading these last few weeks.  Of course, I’ve been putting it off.  This is the last post, the one where I’m supposed to reminisce over the course of the year, think profoundly about what I’ve learned, and wonder what the future holds for me in its little hands.  But that feels too final, and, frankly, a bit maudlin.

Besides, though this is the last real post of this particular blog, I’m not even close to being finished with blogging.  This project was a long, intense haul, and you may have noticed that I became rather (ahem) relaxed with it towards the end.  I loved blogging about bread, and very much enjoyed having something productive to do with my spare time, something concrete to work on every day.  But despite my love of bread and the making thereof, the strict focus of the project did wear on me at times.  I’m absolutely itching to flex my culinary muscles, and see what else I can do.

And so, I’d like to invite you all to join me at my new blog, One Hundred Eggs.  It’s not ready quite yet, but should be fully functional in the next few days; I’ll post a link when the doors officially open.  One Hundred Eggs will be a place for me to stretch out and enjoy cooking, photographing, and writing about whatever food strikes my fancy on any given day.  I’ve got about 10 million recipes that I’ve saved up over the years, and I’m dying to make each and every one; hopefully, this will give me a chance to whittle that pile down a bit.

But I hope that I can say this without sounding too sentimental: thank you.  To all the readers who have left such sweet and encouraging comments, and to all those who didn’t, thank you.  It always seemed that those same moments I felt like I couldn’t even look at another loaf of bread, someone was letting me know that I’d featured a bread that he hadn’t seen in twenty years, or one that her grandmother used to make, or one that had turned out particularly well in his own kitchen.  It’s might sound cliché, but it’s true; things like that truly did make it worth all the effort.  Just to know that I wasn’t spinning my wheels all alone, that I was actually helping bring good, honest, homemade bread into people’s lives… it’s why I started this project in the first place.

Thank you, Dear Readers.  This is how I feel about you all:

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some cooking to do.

Lest you think that I’ve abandoned you again, I thought I’d mention that I’ll be traveling a goodly amount over the next week and a half.  I’ve actually made all but one of the breads for that time (!), but writing about them and posting about them will take some discipline and finesse, neither of which I’m sure I have enough to manage it all.  Not to mention, at least two days in this time period will involve 10 hour drives, and our car doesn’t exactly have wireless internet.  So there you have it; I’ll be posting as I’m able, but I can’t promise miracles.

I do thank you for your great patience with me!  And now, if you’ll pardon me, I’m going to go fall face-first into bed.

Let’s cut to the chase.  I have entered the Quick Weeknight Meals Contest over at The Kitchn, Apartment Therapy’s culinary sister website.  Please check out all the fantastic entries; people have put a lot of hard work into this one!

However, should you see fit to vote for my entry, and should I happen to win, I will absolutely make it worth your while by doing a giveaway of some of the prize (some fabulous gourmet food items) here on A Bread A Day.  Bribery?  Sure.  But I wouldn’t ask you to do something for me without a little quid pro quo, would I?  (Besides, you can vote for more than one entry, so I’m not taking anyone else’s votes away.)

Here’s a little sneak peek at my entry, Lentils with Ditalini:

Now go vote!  Vote vote vote!

Week Thirty-Nine: No-Knead Bread Week

The next logical variation on this week’s theme is to see how this bread reacts to some additions.  I fully understand I’m not blazing any new territory here; but it’s something I’ve never tried for myself before.  Exciting!

The simplest addition you can make to any bread is to add different grains and seeds to the dough, so that’s the route I’m taking today.  This version remains a fairly light multigrain bread, mostly composed of white bread flour, but there’s a decent amount of whole wheat flour, with a handful of rye thrown in for complexity.  For me, though, the interesting part comes from the other additions, which can be whatever combination of grains or seeds you like best, or happen to have lying around.  Here, I’ve used a mixture of yellow millet, to pop between your teeth, hearty steel-cut oats (old-fashioned rolled oats would do just as well, but I prefer the more rustic texture of steel-cut), ground flaxseed for a nutty flavor throughout, and poppy seeds, with their sultry, dusky purple flavor.

To add some tang, there’s a touch of plain yogurt in the dough, which, like the use of white vinegar, helps replicate the acidic notes of a real wild-yeast sourdough.  Yogurt, being a dairy product, does help soften the crumb a little, though the effect here is slight.  More noticeable is the quite welcome sour flavor it lends, which is lovely in conjunction with the hint of rye flour.

The overall taste is nicely balanced between the pleasant coarseness of whole grains and the softness of a typical white bread, punctuated with the complementing flavors of poppy, flax, and oat.  The crust is perhaps thinner than the original no-knead bread, but not greatly.  A bite lands on your tongue with none of the dryness that plagues so many multigrain breads, leaving an almost creamy sweetness instead.  Though it wasn’t the tallest riser, that’s to be expected from such heavy additions as grains and seeds; it absolutely had a more open crumb than many other multigrain breads I’ve made.

Yes, this is one of the more successful no-knead variations I’ve yet seen, one that was well thought out in inception and actually follows through in execution.  Here, the no-knead method really shines, not interfering with the potential success of well-proportioned ingredients (and vice-versa), doing just what the method is intended to do: create a great loaf of bread with the minimum possible effort.  Thanks much to Breadtopia for the original recipe!

yes, these pictures are all starting to look the same; I decided it'd be easiest to compare the different loaves this way

Multigrain No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Breadtopia
Makes 1 round loaf

12 ounces (2½ cups) unbleached bread flour, plus extra for dusting
3 ounces (2/3 cup) whole wheat flour
1 ounce (1/4 cup) rye flour
2 tablespoons ground flaxseed
2 tablespoons millet
1 tablespoon steel-cut oats
2 teaspoons poppy seeds
1½ teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1½ cups water
2 tablespoons plain yogurt

1.  In a large bowl, whisk together the flours, flaxseed, millet, oats, poppy seeds, salt, and yeast.  Add the water and yogurt, and stir until blended; the dough will be shaggy and sticky.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let dough sit at room temperature for at least 12 and up to 24 hours (but preferably about 18).

2.  The dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles.  Line a 10 inch skillet or any wide, shallow bowl with a large square of parchment paper.  Turn the dough out onto a well-floured work surface; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself a few times, until it forms a roughly round shape.  A bench scraper helps greatly with this step.

3.  Transfer the dough to the parchment-lined skillet, and dust heavily with additional flour (or wheat bran, if you like).  Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise until doubled in size, about 2 hours.  When it is ready, the dough will not readily spring back when poked gently with a fingertip.

4.  At least 30 minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 500º F.  Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (see note 1 below) in oven as it heats, on a rack set to the lowest position.  When the dough is ready, carefully remove the pot from the oven.  Transfer the dough to the pot by lifting the parchment by the edges, and carefully and quickly lowering the dough into the pot.  Shake the pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed, but don’t worry about it too much; it will straighten out as it bakes.

5.  Cover the pot with the lid, and bake at 500º F for 30 minutes.  Reduce the temperature to 425º F, remove the lid, and bake uncovered for an additional 15 to 30 minutes, or until the loaf is well-browned.  An instant-read thermometer should register around 205º to 210º F when fully baked.  Transfer to a wire rack to cool thoroughly, discarding the parchment.

Notes:
1.  Any heavy covered pot will do, be it cast iron, enamel, Pyrex, stainless steel, or ceramic.  As long as it’s oven-safe, it seems anything will do the trick.  If your chosen vessel has no lid, or if you’re concerned about the oven-safety of it, simply use aluminum foil instead, pressing it tightly (and carefully) around the preheated pot.

… but A Bread A Day is on hiatus today, as I’ve had a funeral to attend unexpectedly.  I will be back tomorrow, though, and promise to make it up to you this weekend with an extra-special Sunday edition!  In the meantime, to help make up for my absence, here is a picture of a kitty with a heart-shaped patch of fur.

Oh my gosh, you guys!  I forgot to publish one of my recent posts!  Here it is, and I’m so sorry to anyone who noticed the omission!

To help make amends, here is a picture of a special kitty with a heart on him.

All better?  Yay!

Week Ten: Dinner Rolls

Right then.  I’ll be honest: I have nothing insightful to say about this bread.  It’s a fairly standard, soft-crusted, whole-wheat dinner roll.  I know, I had that lengthy and insightful discussion of yeast yesterday; but I just can’t summon up the brainpower to parlay that into a thoughtful post about this bread today.  I would be sorry, except that this is a fantastic bread.  Man, are these ever tasty!  So I guess I’ll just describe them.

First, I want to explain how good they smell while baking.  About five minutes after they went in the oven, I caught the first hints wafting in the air.  Ten minutes in, and my boyfriend was commenting that they smelled like dessert.  And he was right - they smelled like I was baking a cake.  Notes of honey and sugar, butter and whole grains melted together into a seductive perfume.

Then, when I pulled them out of the oven, I knew at first glance that they would be good.  They were perfectly browned on top, and slightly pale on the sides.  They pulled apart easily, leaving those flappy little bits that are so good to pull off and nibble on.  The flavor was spot on, just sweet enough to complement the grainy whole-wheat flour, and soft enough to be a proper American dinner roll.

Everyone should have a good recipe for something like this; because I assure you, they will receive rave reviews at any dinner party, or especially at Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.  Like all bread, you can of course make these even a month or so in advance, freeze, and reheat in a 350º F oven, making these a perfect addition to a busy cook’s menu.

Honey Wheat Rolls
From King Arthur Flour

1 packet “highly active” active dry yeast, or 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast, or 2 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast
1 cup lukewarm water
1/4 cup orange juice
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 6 pieces
3 tablespoons honey
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
2 cups whole-wheat flour
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
2/3 cup instant mashed potato flakes
1/4 cup nonfat dry milk

1.  If you’re using active dry or “highly active” yeast, dissolve it with a pinch of sugar in 2 tablespoons of the lukewarm water. Let the yeast and water sit at room temperature for 15 minutes, until the mixture has bubbled and expanded. If you’re using instant yeast, you can skip this step.

2.  Combine the dissolved yeast with the remainder of the water and the rest of the ingredients. Mix and knead everything together—by hand, mixer or bread machine set on the dough cycle—till you’ve made a smooth dough. If you’re kneading in a stand mixer, it should take about 5 to 7 minutes at second speed. In a bread machine (or by hand), it should form a smooth ball.

3.  Place the dough in a lightly greased bowl. Cover the bowl, and allow the dough to rise, at room temperature, till it’s quite puffy but not necessarily doubled in bulk, about 90 minutes to 2 hours. Rising may take longer, especially if you’ve kneaded by hand. Give it enough time to become quite puffy.

4.  While the dough is rising, lightly grease a 9″ x 13″ pan, or two 9″ round cake pans.

5.  Gently deflate the dough, and transfer it to a lightly greased work surface. Divide it into 16 pieces.

6.  Shape each piece into a rough ball by pulling the dough into a very small knot at the bottom (think of a balloon with its opening knotted), then rolling it under the palm of your hand into a smooth ball.

7.  Place the rolls in the 9″ x 13″ pan, or put eight rolls in each of the round cake pans, spacing them evenly; they won’t touch one another.

8.  Cover the pans with lightly greased plastic wrap, and allow the rolls to rise for 1 1/2 to 2 hours. They’ll become very puffy, and will reach out and touch one another. While the rolls are rising, preheat the oven to 350°F.

9.  Bake the rolls for 15 minutes, and tent them loosely with aluminum foil. Continue to bake until they’re mahogany-brown on top, but lighter colored on the sides, an additional 10 to 13 minutes.

10.  Remove the rolls from the oven, and after 2 or 3 minutes, carefully transfer them to a rack. They’ll be hot and delicate, so be careful. Serve warm, or at room temperature.

 
Notes:
1.  I used pineapple juice instead of orange juice.  It doesn’t really add much flavor one way or another, but the sugar in the juice helps to soften and mellow any harsh flavors in the whole-wheat flour.

…but I have no post for today.  You may have noticed last week that I mentioned I was out of the country; and sometimes flights are delayed, which make you miss connecting flights.  So I have no bread to talk about today, but I promise I will make it up to you on Sunday.  You heard that right: no Monday post this week, but there will be a Super Ultra-Special Mega Sunday post!  Hooray!

And just to make it up to you a little bit, here is a picture of a cat with a heart-shaped patch of fur, sitting on a beach:

…that my sister promptly buried in the sand.  My elder sister.  Good times.

Week Seven: American Breads

America has a far different history of bread than does Italy, or France, or any other “old world” country.  Why, you ask?  Well, you have to look at agriculture to answer that.  There is a long, rich history of wheat growing and baking in Europe, even going back to Ancient Roman times.  Over centuries, people developed and perfected recipes for that wheat, and also for rye, barley, oat, and any other grain available to them.  When those people came to America, bringing their beloved recipes with them, they were befuddled by the grain they found growing most plentifully: corn.  

Unlike wheat flour, corn flour produces no gluten, which is basically the most important part of a good wheat bread.  So essentially, bakers had to scrap everything they knew about making bread, and start over.  Corn flour, though it won’t ever produce a baguette, does work very well in making quick breads; that is to say, breads where gluten formation is undesirable.  Early European-American cooks learned quickly how to stir together cornbread, johnnycakes, hoe cakes, and any number of corn-based breads.  For quite a long time, wheat was imported across the Atlantic at great cost, and was treasured highly.  Corn was looked down upon as a food for the poor, or for the Savages.  (Racism, I know! Shocking!)

And when they finally managed to grow wheat, into those proverbial amber waves of grain, they adapted it into their quick bread repertoire, and drew on the memory of those old European recipes, producing biscuits, pancakes, soft rolls, and various tea breads, such as this Hobo Bread from Michigan.  (Yes, I’m rather glossing over the culinary contributions of the native Americans; but the tradition of bread in American Indian tribes, and in Mexican culture, is mostly limited to various flatbreads.  And I will discuss that later in the week; for now, I’m keeping myself more in the European vein of things.)  Americans, it seems, have been very slow to jump on the hard-crust, slow-risen, artisan-style bread wagon.  But quick breads?  We’ve got them in spades.  So I thought it appropriate to start out with a particularly delicious one.

I first heard about this bread from a friend of mine who hails from Detroit.  “You have to try Greenfield Village Hobo Bread!,” she told me.  “It’s so good!”  Personally, I had never seen or heard of it, but the way her smile burst onto her face, the way her eyes rolled back with the memory, the excitement in her voice, all told me that I had better darn well try to find it.  A quick internet search turned up a recipe, entitled exactly as she’d said, “Greenfield Village Hobo Bread”.  The bread is a very popular best-seller at Greenfield Village and the Henry Ford Museum, in Dearborn, Michigan.  The recipe had apparently appeared in the Bellwether, a weekly newspaper for the staff, and got spread around.  And after making it, I can definitely see why.

This bread is so good!  It’s incredibly moist for how little fat is in it, the flavors of the currants, sugars, and walnuts together are superb, and is super-easy to make.  Yes, ok, for those of you in the know, this Hobo Bread doesn’t usually have currants.  It usually has raisins; but I’m actually not that big a fan of raisins.  I find currants lovely, though, so I generally use them instead.  Feel free to use raisins for greater authenticity.  Another little tweak I gave the recipe was to switch some of the water for brandy. The original recipe calls for soaking the currants (or raisins) in water, but what does water taste like?  Nothin’, is what.  And currants and brandy are best friends, so I gave it a go.  It was delicious!  Try bourbon or spiced rum for a variation, if you like.

This is a thoroughly American bread, all the way from its quick bread nature, to the ingredients used, to the name and the way it’s made (hobo cooking, as such, originated during the Great Depression, and generally involves cooking in tin cans, or aluminum foil packets tossed into a fire).  Not to mention that hoboes themselves are pretty American - show me any other country that has them!  Now, I’m not sure if you’d find many hoboes cooking with currants and brandy, but I do know there’s not a soul who would turn down a slice of this bread.  So the next time you’re, you know, riding the rails, pack some of this in your bindle - you’ll probably make a lifelong friend if you share it. 

Greenfield Village Hobo Bread

1 cup currants (or raisins)
1/2 cup boiling water
1/4 cup brandy
2 teaspoons baking soda 
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 1/2 ounces all-purpose flour (about 2 cups)
2 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
1/4 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 egg at room temperature
1/4 cup granulated sugar 
1/4 cup brown sugar 
3/4 cup walnuts, toasted and chopped

1.  Grease and flour 3 or 4 empty and clean soup cans, or two small loaf pans, or one large loaf pan.  Preheat oven to 350º F.

2.  Pour boiling water over currants.  Add brandy, and let cool. 

3.  Whisk together baking soda, salt, and flour; set aside.  In a large bowl, mix together butter, milk, vanilla, egg, and the sugars.  Add the currants and all the liquid.

4.  Gently mix in flour mixture and walnuts, until just blended.  It’s ok if there are lumps or some streaks of flour.

5.  Fill the soup cans to half full, or divide evenly between loaf pans.  Bake for 40 minutes to an hour. Cool 5 minutes in cans or pans before removing to a rack to cool completely.

Notes:
1.  The egg should be at room temperature; otherwise, the melted butter will solidify when the two are combined.  You could certainly substitute oil for the butter, but the flavor will be different.

2.  Of course, I totally understand wanting a non-alcoholic version; so if you prefer that route, try using apple juice or orange juice instead of the alcohol.

3.  This recipe will double beautifully, and freeze well if necessary.