A Bread A Day

Week Fifty-Three: For The Last Time!

One of the worst things that can happen in the kitchen (outside of an injury, I suppose) is a baking failure.  With other forms of cooking, mishaps can be corrected to a certain extent: burnt bits can be scraped off, seasoning errors may be corrected, recipes not up to par may be adjusted in the midst of cooking.  But with baking, you have one shot to get it right, an arguably impossible task when dealing with things like, say, raw eggs and baking powder.

This was my problem when I made these blueberry orange muffins previously.  What seemed to be a perfectly respectable recipe (okay, I should’ve noticed and amended the tablespoon of baking powder) ended up in a batch of truly horrible muffins.  It was like a plateful of unrepentant spite.  And there was nothing, just nothing, I could do.  But the basic idea of a blueberry muffin, brightened with orange and made nutty with oats, was too good to give up.  And so, after severe modification, I bring you these resurrected muffins, now with actually good flavor.

One major problem (aside from the amount of baking powder) was the awful, half-cooked texture of the oats.  To solve that, I’ve given the oats a quick soak in buttermilk to soften them up a bit.  Alternatively, you could process them finely in a food processor (but I killed mine whilst making marzipan, so that wasn’t an option).  By soaking them, the unpleasant texture was done away with, while still retaining a slight chew from the whole grains.  To complement the rustic texture of the oats, I substituted half the white flour for whole wheat flour.

Additionally, I swapped flavorless vegetable oil for an equal amount of delicious, delicious butter, and increased the amount of sugar to a level that gives more of a muffin-y taste, but doesn’t over-sweeten the batter at all.  I tossed in a bit of lemon extract, to boost the citrus flavor, and vanilla to give a bit of depth.  Oh yeah, and I decreased the heck out of that baking powder; I would not like soap-flavored muffins please.

What came out of the oven this time beat the pants off of that first sorry batch.  These muffins were flavorful and light, despite the hearty texture of oats and whole wheat flour.  The leavening still needs perfecting, as they might have risen a little taller and domed a little more, but beggars can’t be choosers.  I was just tickled pink that my modifications had worked.  (But since I’m picking nits here, I also found the orange flavor to be a bit more subtle than I’d ideally like, but I think a bit of orange extract or orange liqueur would solve that problem nicely.)

Other than that, this recipe might actually make it into my permanent recipe file, with the aforementioned tweaking.  Yes, it ended up that good.  But then, when you’re working with blueberries, orange, and oats, you can’t really go wrong, now can you?

Blueberry Orange Muffins, For The Last Time!
Makes 12 muffins

1 1/3 cup well-shaken buttermilk, at room temperature
1 1/4 cups (5 ounces) old-fashioned rolled oats
3 ounces (2/3 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
3 ounces (2/3 cup) whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons finely grated orange zest (from 1 orange)
1 egg, beaten
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
1/3 cup orange juice (from 1 orange)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon lemon extract
1 cup blueberries, fresh or frozen (unthawed, and tossed with a spoonful of flour to just coat)

1.  Preheat the oven to 400º F.   In a large bowl, combine the buttermilk and the oats.  Cover with plastic wrap, and let sit for 30 minutes while the oven heats.  Meanwhile, grease 12 standard muffin cups, or line with paper muffin liners.

2.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and orange zest.

3.  When the buttermilk-oat mixture is ready, and the oven fully preheated, whisk the egg, butter, brown sugar, orange juice, and extracts into the oat mixture.  Add the dry ingredients, and fold together gently and quickly until almost combined.  Add the blueberries, and quickly fold until just incorporated.

4.  Divide the batter evenly between the prepared muffin cups.  Bake at 400º F for 18 to 22 minutes, or until golden brown, and muffins feel firm when pressed lightly on top.  Remove from pan, and transfer to a wire rack to cool slightly before serving.

Notes:
1.  If using fresh blueberries, there’s no need to toss them with flour.  If using frozen blueberries, tossing them with a bit of flour will help them stay suspended in each muffin, rather than sinking to the bottom.

Week Fifty-One: Gift Breads

Today’s bread comes to us from the inimitable M. F. K. Fisher, out of her book How To Cook A Wolf, published in 1942.  Is it precisely a bread?  Well, it has the word “bread” in the title, doesn’t it?  Mystery solved.

This recipe is unlike many bread recipes I’ve made, though it’s not entirely unfamiliar.  First, it uses a creaming method to combine shortening and sugar, a technique used mainly in cookie and cake recipes, after which wet and dry ingredients are added in intervals.  Boiling water is used, as though you were making hot cocoa or certain chocolate cakes; and the sole egg is added at the end, after everything else has been combined.

It’s one of the stranger bread recipes I’ve seen, true; but it’s also one of the most delicious.  Mrs. Fisher herself states without boast (but without any ingratiating false modesty, either) that it is the grandest gingerbread recipe she has ever seen.  With such praise from such an authority, I was sure I couldn’t go wrong, and I was not disappointed.

This bread is robustly flavored, but in the most sophisticated way imaginable.  The velvety texture holds together firmly, meaning that you will lose no moist crumbs to go diving after under the table.  The black-as-night color might lead you to expect a slight burnt flavor, buy you’ll find nothing of the sort.  Here is only the depth and simple comfort of ginger, cinnamon, and clove, enriched by the contemporary addition of candied ginger.

Though this loaf is certainly sweet, the brash acidity of molasses prevents it from becoming cloying.  You could just as easily serve it for breakfast as you could for dessert; though when something is this exquisite, there’s really no bad time for it.  Mrs. Fisher, however, suggests that no matter the hour, ”unsalted butter, preferably pressed into little pats with a cow on one side and a daisy on the other, is the most fitting partner.”  And if we knew all that she knew, I’m certain that we’d agree without hesitation, and whole-heartedly.

Gingerbread
Adapted from How To Cook A Wolf, by M. F. K. Fisher
Makes one 8 x 4 inch loaf

5 1/2 ounces (about 1 1/4 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup non-hydrogenated shortening
1/4 cup sugar
6 ounces (1/2 cup) molasses
3/4 teaspoon baking soda, divided
3/4 cup boiling water
1 large egg, beaten
2 tablespoons candied ginger, chopped finely

1.  Preheat the oven to 325º F.  Butter an 8 x 4 inch loaf pan, and sprinkle with a spoonful of flour, knocking the pan to remove any excess.  Whisk together the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and salt.

2.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream together the shortening and the sugar with the paddle attachment, until thoroughly mixed.  In a separate bowl, beat the molasses and 1/2 teaspoon baking soda with a nonstick spatula until light-colored and fluffy.  Add the molasses to the shortening mixture, and beat until combined, scraping the bowl down as needed.

3.  Add the remaining 1/4 teaspoon baking soda to the boiling water, and stir to dissolve.  Alternate adding the water and the dry ingredients to the molasses mixture, in about three installments, scraping the bowl after each addition.  When thoroughly mixed, fold in the beaten egg and the candied ginger.

4.  Scrape the batter into the prepared pan, and bake at 325º F for about 35 minutes, or until fully baked and the center of the loaf feels firm when pressed gently on top.  Begin checking the bread for doneness after 20 minutes in the oven, so as to not burn.  Let cool briefly in the pan before turning out to cool thoroughly on a wire rack.

Notes:
1.  Gingerbread will keep at room temperature, wrapped tightly, for up to a week.  Frozen, it will keep for a month or so.

Week Fifty-One: Gift Breads

A few months ago, two of my dear friends were married in what must have been one of the all-time grandest and most fabulous weddings ever seen. How fabulous was it?  Let me just say that they made llamas seem chic and soigné.  Llamas, you guys.  The spitting kind.

But for me, one of the biggest highlights wasn’t the picture perfect weather, the breathtaking scenery, the impeccably tended-to details, the ceremony full of friends, family, and love; no, for me, it was at the reception dinner.  In the bread basket.  Of course.

There we were, dozens of guests, dolled up like there was no tomorrow, having a multi-course sit-down dinner with wine pairings, in the middle of a llama farm, and all I could think about was how on Earth do I get the recipe for this zucchini bread that is blowing my mind?!

Luckily, the bride helped me track it down, and when I finally got my hands on it, it turned out to be the chef’s grandmother’s recipe.  The bride and groom didn’t even know it would be served; the chef apparently decided at the last minute that the bread basket needed something sweet.

So from such an improbable source, I bring you what may very well be the Best Zucchini Bread I’ve Ever Tasted.  (Yes, my dear sister, even better than our old standard.)  Why exactly it’s so incredible, I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps it’s the almost gleefully unrestrained use of sugar in the batter, or perhaps it’s the use of water instead of the more typical milk or buttermilk for the liquid.  Maybe it’s the generous amount of cloves, far more than I’ve ever seen in any other recipe.

But whatever the secret, it’s undeniably one of the more delicious quick breads I’ve ever made.  Moist as anything, tender, full of zucchini and crunchy walnuts, it’s one of those breads that just begs you to take one more tiny slice.  And you’d better listen, because if there’s anyone else around, it’ll be gone faster than you can say “llama”.

Zucchini Bread
Adapted from Chef Myles Anton’s grandmother’s recipe
Makes two 9 x 5 inch loaves

3 cups shredded zucchini (2 large or 3 medium)
2/3 cup walnuts
15 ounces (about 3 1/3 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (or 1/2 teaspoon pre-ground)
4 eggs
2 2/3 cups sugar
1/3 cup vegetable oil (such as canola)
1/3 cup olive oil
2/3 cup water
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1.  Preheat the oven to 350º F.  Butter two 9 x 5 inch loaf pans.  Add a spoonful of flour to each, and shake around to coat the entire inside of each pan with flour, knocking out the excess.  While the oven heats, grate the zucchini.

2.  Spread the walnuts in a single layer on a sheet pan, and toast in the oven for about 8 minutes, or until fragrant, shaking the pan halfway through to ensure even browning.  While still warm, chop, and set aside to cool slightly while preparing the remaining ingredients.

3.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg.  Set aside

4.  In a large bowl, whisk the eggs with half of the sugar until slightly thick, about 1 minute.  Add the remaining sugar with the oil, water, and vanilla, whisking after each addition.  Stir in the grated zucchini.

5.  Add the dry ingredients and the walnuts, folding gently with a spatula until just combined.  Some remaining streaks or small lumps of flour are okay.  Divide the batter evenly between the prepared loaf pans.

6.  Bake at 350º F until golden brown and each loaf feels firm when pressed gently in the middle, 60 to 70 minutes.  Let cool briefly in the pan, before transferring to a wire rack to cool thoroughly.

Notes:
1.  This bread will keep, tightly wrapped, at room temperature for up to a week.

Week Fifty-One: Gift Breads

Today’s gift bread is slightly on the lighter side, as it contains very little added fat and sugar, but it doesn’t skimp one bit on flavor.  An ample amount of orange-juice-soaked dried figs studs the bread throughout, making each slice a pretty mosaic of the plum colored jewels.  Buttery and crunchy hazelnuts appear a bit less generously; but rather than seeming stingy, the effect is that each time a hazelnut is discovered in a bite, it is all the more satisfying.

This bread isn’t so sugary that you’ll feel it stuck to your teeth hours later, but the plentiful figs and orange juice provide plenty enough sweetness to do the job, while bringing their complex flavors to keep it interesting.

I wouldn’t exactly call this bread a health food, but with so little added oil and refined sugar, you could certainly do much worse.  I’ve tried plenty of higher-fat, -sugar, and -calorie breads that don’t come close to the fantastic flavors and moistness of this bread.  And looking at things that way, you absolutely couldn’t do any better.

Fig Hazelnut Bread
Adapted from Cooking Light Magazine
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

2 ounces (about 1/3 cup) hazelnuts
3/4 cup orange juice, preferably fresh
6 ounces (about 1 cup)  chopped dried figs
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large egg
1 large egg white
6 3/4 ounces (1 1/2 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt

1.  Preheat oven to 350° F.  Lightly grease a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan.

2.  Roast hazelnuts on a baking sheet at 350° F for 15 minutes, stirring once halfway through.  When skins are very dark, roll nuts up in a kitchen towel (preferably a dark-colored one that won’t show a stain).  Rub the towel between your hands, removing the skins.  Chop nuts while still warm, and set aside.

3.  Meanwhile, bring the orange juice to a boil.  Pour over the figs in a heatproof bowl.  Let stand at least 15 minutes.

4.  In a large bowl, combine the sugar, olive oil, egg, and egg white, whisking until smooth.  Stir in the figs and orange juice.

5. Whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt in another bowl.  Add to the wet ingredients, along with the chopped hazelnuts, gently stirring together until just combined.  Transfer the batter to the prepared pan.

6.  Bake at 350° F for 45 minutes, or until golden brown and loaf feels firm when pressed gently in the center.  Let cool for about 10 minutes in the pan before removing to a wire rack to cool thoroughly.  Serve warm.

Notes:
1.  This bread will keep shockingly well, wrapped tightly, at room temperature for several days.

Week Fifty: Bourbon Week

After dark chocolate, cherry is one of the better flavor pairings with Bourbon.  There’s a reason Manhattans are garnished with a cherry: it’s delicious, especially when the cherry is a homemade brandied and spiced cherry, rather than one of those sickly-saccharine and neon Maraschino cherries.  (Those, I usually leave in the bottom of the glass.)

Today’s bread takes full advantage of the delight that is a Bourbon-soaked dried cherry, nestling them into a hardly-sweetened scone.  Normally, I prefer my scones a bit sweeter, but I’ve cut the sugar here to showcase the natural jammy flavor of the cherries.

And, boy, do they pop!  Scones, unlike their slightly-richer cousin, the biscuit, naturally cry out for a bit of butter, as they can taste just a touch dry.  This is not necessarily a defect; and it makes buying good butter worth every penny.  Imagine, then, in the middle of a crumbly bite of scone, the burst of a juicy cherry, soaked to the gills with smoky Bourbon.  Oh, my goodness, it’s heavenly.

Though it does take some advance planning to soak the cherries, this recipe can otherwise be completed in less than 30 minutes, from measuring ingredients to pulling them from the oven.  It’s a good thing, too; the aroma that wafts from the dough, even, is nothing short of seductive.  And if you can manage to keep away from them before they’re fully cooled, you’re a better man than I am.

Bourbon Cherry Scones
Adapted in part from The Best Recipe, by the editors of Cook’s Illustrated Magazine
Makes 8 large scones

4 ounces (about 3/4 cup) dried cherries
1 1/2 ounces (1 jigger) Bourbon
13 1/2 ounces (about 3 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons cream of tartar
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 tablespoons sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into very small pieces
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons cold milk, plus extra for brushing on the dough

1. Place the cherries in a plastic zip top bag.  Add the Bourbon, and squeeze as much air as possible out of the bag before closing.  (This maximizes the surface area contact between the fruit and the bourbon, and makes sure no cherries are left dry.)  Soak the cherries for at least 8 hours, and up to several days.

2.  Preheat the oven to 450° F, and grease a baking sheet or line with parchment paper.

3.  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, sugar, and salt.  Add the cold butter and quickly cut in with a pastry blender or fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse meal.  Pea-sized lumps are okay.  Add the milk, cherries, and Bourbon, and quickly fold together until it just forms a dough, drizzling a little extra milk over any dry spots if necessary.  The dough should be quite sticky.

4.  Turn the dough out onto a heavily floured surface, and liberally flour the top.  Pat into a 1 inch thick round, and cut into 8 equal wedges.  Carefully transfer to the prepared baking sheet, and brush the tops with milk.

5.  Bake the scones at 450° F for about 15 minutes, or until lightly golden on top.  Let cool briefly on baking sheet before serving, or removing to a rack to cool thoroughly.

Notes:
1.  Scones are best served as soon as possible, but may be cooled thoroughly and frozen, wrapped well in foil, and reheated in a 400º F oven for about 5 minutes, or until warmed through.

Week Fifty: Bourbon Week

For me, one of the most highly-anticipated moments of the Christmas season has for years been the first taste of my Old Kentucky Grandmother’s famed Bourbon balls.  In recent years, she has begun to supplement with peanut butter cups; but no matter how good those are, everyone knows the Bourbon balls are the real star of the show.

They remain stashed away in the bomb shelter in her basement (yes, really), where they stay at an appropriately cool temperature.  Family members will often run into each other down there, stealing away back upstairs surreptitiously with a smile and a full mouth, hoping to avoid the invariable-if-caught scolding.  Each year, she seems to have to make more, and each year, she laments that there never seems to be enough to go around; all this, even though each of her family members is sent packing with at least two pounds of the cherished things.

Bourbon balls are a purely Kentuckian confection, pairing the very Southern pecan with what may be The Most Perfect Flavor Pairing Known To Man, Kentucky Bourbon and good chocolate.  Created by Ruth Booe in the late 30’s, the original Bourbon ball has a closely guarded recipe; and though you may see that most versions online include crushed cookies and corn syrup, I’ve personally never had one made like that.

No, for me, the perfect Bourbon ball is simply butter, powdered sugar, and Bourbon-soaked pecans, all rolled into a ball that is dipped in chocolate.  Proportions may vary according to taste, but the end result is invariably sweet, rich, boozy, and wholly irresistible.  When I decided to make this beloved candy into a bread, it seemed only fitting that the bread should encapsulate all those qualities as well.

This bread, then, is a quick bread with loads of chocolate and pecans, supported by a background of smoky bourbon, and a slight tangy flavor from the use of buttermilk, for a little contrast.  I’ve kept the sweetness less than it might have been — I’m not a fan of feeling food stick to my teeth hours after I’ve eaten it — but it’s certainly far from savory.

In keeping with the typical garnish of a single pecan half crowning the top of certain Bourbon balls, I’ve decorated the top of this loaf with a row of pecans, with the suggestion to cut each slice using the width of the pecan as a guide, each slice therefore giving a nod to its inspiration.

Though no bread could ever steal the spotlight from a real Bourbon ball, especially those made by my grandmother, this recipe certainly does a good job at turning those ingredients and flavors into a loaf of bread.  No, it won’t ever take their place, but it just might tide me over until I get my hands on the real deal.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a bomb shelter to raid.

Bourbon Ball Quick Bread
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

9 ounces (2 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
2/3 cup sugar
6 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup buttermilk, well-shaken
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup Bourbon
4 ounces (about 1 cup) pecans, toasted and chopped
4 ounces (about 3/4 cup) chocolate chips, or chopped chocolate
12 to 15 whole untoasted pecan halves, or as needed for garnish

1.  Preheat the oven to 350º F.  Butter a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan.  Add a spoonful of flour, shaking around to coat the entire inside of the pan.  Knock out the excess flour.

2.  Spread the pecans in a single layer on a sheet pan, and toast in the oven for 5 to 8 minutes, or until fragrant.  While still warm, chop, and set aside to cool slightly.

3.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  Set aside

4.  In a large bowl, or with an electric mixer, whisk the eggs with the sugar until slightly thickened, about 2 minutes.  Whisk the butter in slowly.  Add the milk, buttermilk, vanilla, and Bourbon.

5.  Add the dry ingredients, and fold in gently with a spatula until the flour is mostly moistened.  Add the pecans and chocolate, and fold in just until no more pockets of dry ingredients remain.  Scrape batter into the prepared loaf pan, and smooth the top.  Gently lay the whole pecan halves in a line lengthwise down the middle of the loaf, placing so the longer side of the pecan is parallel to the short side of the loaf pan.

6.  Bake at 350º F until golden brown and the loaf feels firm when pressed gently in the middle, 45 to 55 minutes.  Let cool briefly in the pan, about 5 minutes, before transferring to a wire rack to cool thoroughly before slicing.