A Bread A Day

Week Fifty-Three: For The Last Time!

In the middle of making (or trying to make) arepas for the first time, I realized that plain corn meal is not the same thing as masarepa (arepa flour).  Not at all.  I had never tasted or even seen an arepa before, and my idea of what exactly they were was fuzzy at best, but I could clearly tell that what I was making was not an arepa.

Masarepa and corn meal are about as much alike as bread crumbs and flour; both are made from the same basic stuff, but the latter is milled raw, while the former is cooked, then milled.  As you can imagine, the two do not act at all similarly in a dough.  After I managed to track down some proper masarepa, I was able to see for myself exactly how massive the difference was.

Corn meal, when mixed with liquid, kinda just sits there, never fully absorbing the moisture.  Masarepa, on the other hand, quickly absorbs liquid, turning into a dough with an almost putty-like consistency.  You are then able to easily form it into the traditional English-muffin-shape, something regular corn meal could never do.

While mixing the arepa dough, I was struck with the way it smelled: it smelled exactly like the Quaker instant grits I grew up on.  Considering the similarities in basic composition (ground cooked corn), I’m sure that’s no coincidence.

All that aside, real arepas are really tasty, you guys!  Rarely, if ever, eaten plain, the humble things bring a gentle corn sweetness to whatever you might fill them with.  You could describe them as very dense hamburger buns made of corn; but that does no justice to the soft and moist interior, or to the golden and enticingly crisp exterior, or to the slightly petite size that only helps make it dangerously easy to reach for another, as filling as they are.

Though masarepa (like all corn flours) comes in both white and yellow, you’ll find strict devotees to one color or the other, arguing fiercely that theirs is the only correct option.  As far as I’m concerned, the two varieties taste nearly identical; use whatever kind you prefer (or can find).  I used white here simply because I thought it would look pretty.

As far as filling goes, the sky’s the limit; I made some black-eyed pea burgers to help use up a giant pot of leftovers.  More traditional fillings would be items like cheese, vegetables, jam, eggs, pork, beef, or chicken.  A famous combination called La Reina Pepiada involves chicken, avocado, and mayonnaise (much like chicken salad), and sounds absolutely mouth-watering.

Whatever filling you choose, though, it should be heavily seasoned or spiced, as the relative blandness of the arepa will balance it beautifully, much like a tortilla does with, say, a very spicy pulled pork.  So in the event that you ever run across a bag of masarepa in your local supermercado, you may want to throw it in your cart.  As easy, fast, and delicious as real arepas are, you absolutely won’t regret it.

Arepas, For The Last Time!
Makes 8 arepas

2 cups masareapa (arepa flour)
1 scant teaspoon salt
3 cups water, divided
Vegetable oil, for browning

1.  Preheat the oven to 350º F.  Lightly grease a large baking sheet, or line with parchment paper.

2.  In a medium bowl, stir together the masarepa and salt.  Add 2 1/2 cups water, and stir until incorporated and all dry spots are moistened.  Check the consistency by rolling a bit of dough into a ball.  If it is too wet and sticks to your fingers, add more flour; if it is too dry to hold together in a ball without cracking, add more water.  Cover with plastic wrap and let stand for about 10 minutes; the dough will stiffen in this time.

3.  With moistened hands, form about 1/4 cup of dough into a ball, rolling between your palms and gently pressing to form a disc about 3 inches wide and 1/4 inch thick.  Gently press around the side with a wet finger to eliminate any cracks.  Transfer to the prepared baking sheet.  Repeat the shaping with the remaining dough.

4.  Heat about 1 tablespoon oil in a large nonstick or cast iron skillet over medium-high heat until hot, but not smoking.  Brown arepas in batches of 2 or 3, or as many as will fit in the pan without crowding.  Flip once, and cook until each side is deeply golden, about 5 minutes per side.  Place again on the baking sheet after browning.

5.  When all the arepas have been browned, transfer the baking sheet to the oven. Bake at 350º F for 15 to 20 minutes, or until they sound lightly hollow when tapped.  Serve immediately.

Notes:
1.  If any dough is left over wrap it in plastic - to keep in the moisture - and place in fridge. It will keep for three to four days.

2.  Masarepa may be found in Mexican or Latino markets.  Goya or Harina PAN are well-regarded brands.

Week Fifty-Three: For The Last Time!

When I first made matzo, there was one important thing that I neglected to mention.  Matzo, you see, is an unleavened bread; but you all knew that.  What some of you may not know is how strict Jewish dietary law is about this.  From the time you mix the water into the flour, you have no more than 18 minutes to get those suckers into the oven.  After that time (which was determined… somehow?), fermentation begins, and any yeast present on the flour or in the air can begin to leaven the dough.

This all means, of course, that you have to work quickly to roll out your matzo.  And this brings me to the reason I neglected to mention the 18 minute window when I first made matzo.  I might be handy with a rolling pin, but I’m sure not fast with one. By the time I’d had the dough all rolled out, my 18 minutes were well and truly up.  I wasn’t about to tell you, Gentle Reader, to roll out dough in under 18 minutes when I myself couldn’t do it.

That’s not to say that I didn’t try, though; but my hasty rolling, however careful I tried to be, was awfully uneven, resulting in patchy matzo that was burnt crisp in some spots, and chewy-thick in other spots.  To get a better matzo, I was going to have to seriously up my rolling pin game, probably through months of arduous practice.

Or, you know, I could go to Plan B: the pasta roller.  I know they’re not common gadgets in American kitchens (the one at my house is on extended loan from a good friend with a truly miniscule kitchen), but I know of no other way to roll out dough so quickly and so evenly.  And yes, it worked like a charm.  I was able to whip up eight gorgeous ovals of matzo, that all browned evenly and perfectly, within the allotted 18 minutes.  I was working alone, but it of course would be more efficient if you had a friend to help out, especially with the docking (that always takes me longer than I think).

This recipe is for whole wheat matzo; if you prefer white flour, you may need to decrease the water a little.  The flavor is good, despite the total lack of time the dough has to develop any flavor-boosting enzymes or acids.  You can roll these to any thickness you like, but I think a thinner matzo works best; it turns out delightfully crisp.  Just be careful to not over-bake these, as they can go from crisp to tough sooner than you think.  Otherwise, as long as you can make these within 18 minutes, you can’t go wrong with this one.

Matzo, For The Last Time!
Adapted from Peter Reinhart
Makes 8 matzo

8 ounces (about 1 3/4 cups) whole wheat flour, plus extra for dusting as needed
1/2 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup water, at room temperature

1.  Thirty minutes before starting, preheat the oven to 350º F, heating a baking stone as well if you have one.  If not, just bake the matzo on a large baking sheet (not preheated).  Set up a pasta roller (by clamping to a countertop).  Lay out one or two large pieces of parchment paper, to hold the dough after rolling, either on a peel for sliding onto the baking stone, or on the baking sheet.

2.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour and salt.  Add the water, and stir until a shaggy dough forms.  Your 18 minutes begins as soon as the water hits the flour.  Turn the dough out onto an unfloured surface, and knead just until smooth, about 1 minute.

3.  Divide the dough into eight equal pieces.  Quickly form each piece into a roughly round shape.  Using the pasta roller at the thickest setting, roll each piece out, and set aside on a lightly floured surface.  Dust each piece lightly with additional flour as needed to prevent sticking.  Repeat rolling, using a thinner setting each time, until desired thickness is achieved.  Transfer rolled-out dough to the parchment paper.

4.  When all dough is all rolled out, thoroughly dock each piece with a fork, to prevent puffing in the oven.

5.  If using the baking stone, slide the parchment with the matzo directly onto the stone.  Otherwise, place baking sheet with matzo in the oven.  Bake at 350º F for 10-12 minutes, or until crisp and just barely browned.  Remove to a wire rack to cool.

Notes:
1.  You may choose to roll out half the dough at a time, baking in batches.  As long as you get it all into the oven within 18 minutes, you’re fine.

2.  If you don’t have to keep kosher, the dough will develop significantly better flavor and texture if you let it sit for about 1 hour at room temperature (or in the refrigerator overnight).

Week Fifty: Bourbon Week

Well, this is the last bread of Bourbon week.  And you may be wondering what in the world matzo has to do with Bourbon.

Well… nothing.  Nothing at all.

But it is the first day of Hanukkah, and even though I’m not Jewish, I hate to see a holiday go uncelebrated.  Yes, I’m aware that it’s the wrong holiday for this bread.  I know!  And I’m sure that it’s borderline offensive to be featuring this bread on Hanukkah; but I flat out missed Passover, and I hated to go this whole year without featuring one of the more famous breads out there.

So, with great apologies to the whole Jewish community, here I give you matzo.  On Hanukkah.

*sigh*

And, I’m incredibly sad to report, it did not turn out well.  It was probably my own fault, as I may have rolled the dough too thinly, or perhaps not thinly enough.  It’s hard to say with directions like “as thin as you can”.  Whatever the case, I didn’t think mine were done at the improbable 3 to 5 minute mark, as they looked doughy and pale, and so baked them for at least twice that.

After that, they were browned and crisp upon removing from the oven, but cooled into a state of leathery toughness, fit for nothing but thickening soups or turning into bread crumbs.  So I give you this recipe in hopes that you’ll have more success with it than I did; this was, in all fairness, my first time making matzo.

So how, you may ask, does this relate in any small way to Bourbon week?  Well, I had originally planned to make some Matzo Toffee Crunch, using a reasonable amount of Bourbon in the toffee.  It was going to be a pleasant departure from the monotony of bread, bread, bread, and might offer you a suggestion for a homemade holiday gift.  Bonus: it ties in with Bourbon week!  We all win!

But then, my matzo turned out nearly unpalatable, and I wasn’t about to waste Bourbon toffee on the stuff.  So if any of you Gentle Readers out there have a burning desire to make this creation of mine, I would be thrilled to go buy a box of matzo and test a batch for you.  It’s really the least I could do.

So apologies for this half-baked post (no pun intended); tune in next week for some special holiday treats!  I promise, they’ll be worth your while.

Matzo
Adapted from The Kitchn
Makes 8 to 12 flatbreads

9 ounces (2 cups) all-purpose or whole wheat flour, or a combination
1 cup water

1.  Preheat the oven to 475º F.   Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

2.  When the oven has fully preheated, mix together the flour and water.  Knead briefly until the dough comes together into a smooth ball, about 4 minutes.  If the dough sticks to your hands or the work surface, add additional flour by spoonfuls as needed to prevent sticking.

3.  Divide the dough into 8 to 12 even pieces.  Keeping the unused pieces covered, roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface with a rolling pin, as thin as the dough will allow.

4.  Transfer the dough to a prepared baking sheet, and dock all over with a fork, to prevent the dough from puffing in the oven.  Repeat with remaining dough until one baking sheet is full.  The breads won’t spread, so you can put the dough as close together as you like.  Bake until crisp.

5.  While the first batch is baking, prepare the second batch.  Continue baking and rolling until all the dough has been cooked.

Notes:
1.  If you don’t need to keep kosher, you can add a teaspoon or two of salt, honey, spices, or olive oil to the dough.

Week Forty-Nine: Breads With Cheese

Parmesan, that buttery, nutty, and hard grating cheese, has a unique melting characteristic among cheeses.  When heated and cooled, a pile of plain parmesan slumps into a crisp, almost crackerly thing.  Called a “frico” when prepared thusly, it’s something like what I was expecting from this recipe.

Originally, the recipe was titled “Biscotti alla Parmigiana“, implying a fairly specific item, crunchy and heavily parmesan-forward.  But after a cursory glance, it became apparent that the title was far from apt; in fact, it’s almost a lie.  (Yes, I just called Giada DeLaurentiis a liar.  It hurts me.  In my heart.  But from her, I expect more precision!)

The word “biscotti” literally means “twice-cooked”, which these are certainly not.  You might call them “unscotti” (once-cooked) if anything, except that anything similarly named invariably refers to a sweet cookie, cut from a long loaf of baked dough (unscotti are then served as is, biscotti are cooked a second time until hard and crunchy).

These crackers, on the other hand, are made from a reasonably even mixture of flour, butter, and parmesan cheese.  No sugar is used, just a bit of rosemary and pepper for some interest.  The dough is shaped into a log, chilled, then sliced and baked.  How they’re meant to be similar to a biscotti is beyond me.

Having gotten that semantic chip off my shoulder, I will say that Ms. DeLaurentiis has provided a delightful recipe for delicate, softly crumbling crackers that are indeed replete with parmesan flavor.  They aren’t at all crisp, as I might’ve expected, but the texture is really exquisite.

A bit too soft to serve with any sort of dip or spread, these crackers make a nice wine or cocktail hour pairing, and are a delightful garnish for soups, especially your favorite tomato soup.  And though the parmesan is really the star of this show, the dough provides a great blank canvas to experiment with different herb flavorings.  I used the originally suggested rosemary, as I adore rosemary and parmesan together; but parsley, basil, mint, oregano, or marjoram would also be natural pairs.  Fresh or dried would work equally well, and any herb mixture would also work beautifully.

Parmesan Crackers
Adapted from Giada De Laurentiis, via Food Network
Makes about 30 crackers

3 1/2 ounces (about 3/4 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon ground dried rosemary leaves
1/4 teaspoon white pepper
1 three-fingered pinch kosher salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 ounce (about 1/2 cup) freshly grated Parmesan

1.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, rosemary, pepper, and salt.  Add the butter and Parmesan, and combine with a spatula or hands until crumbly, but sticks together when pressed with fingers. If dry spots remain, drizzle in a little milk or water until all flour is moistened.

2.  Turn dough out onto a sheet of parchment or wax paper, and form into a log about 1 inch in diameter, using the paper to help shape the dough.  Wrap the log with the paper, twisting the ends to seal.  Place dough in the freezer to chill for 1 hour.

3. Preheat the oven to 350º F, using convection heat if available.  Remove the dough from the freezer and allow it to sit at room temperature until the oven is hot.  Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.

4. Cut the log of dough crossways into rounds 1/2 inch thick.  Transfer the rounds to the prepared baking sheet, about 1/2 to 1 inch apart.  Transfer to the oven, and bake for 10 to 15 minutes, or until just beginning to color around the edges.  Let cool on the baking sheet before serving.

Notes:
1.  The volume measurement of the Parmesan will vary wildly, depending on how finely you grate the cheese.  A coarse grater will give you less than 1/2 cup, while a fine Microplane-style grater will produce almost 1 cup.  The more cheese you use, the crisper the crackers will be.

2.  If you have fresh rosemary, chop it finely and increase the amount to 1/2 teaspoon.

Week Forty-Nine: Breads With Cheese

[insert picture here!  with your imagination!]

Oh, my goodness.  I knew this would happen.  I’ve been juggling so many different bready things these last few weeks, between developing and baking a new recipe each day, photographing each one, writing about each one, and with no sensible order to it all, that I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.

Yes, I’ve forgotten to photograph this bread.

*bangs forehead*

But can you imagine a popover?  Like this one, or this one?  Then you have a pretty good idea of what these look like.  The only difference is that these turned out a bit darker on the outside, due to the browning abilities of the cheese added to the batter.  Got that mental image?  Right then, on we go.

Originally, this recipe called for the batter to be baked in mini muffin tins.  And after trying them in a standard 1/2 cup size muffin tin (aka: the only muffin tin I have), I agree.  These weren’t the greatest popovers ever made, because of the cheese.

See, popovers are leavened with steam alone, meaning that the large percentage of liquid in the very wet batter turns to steam, which inflates the starches (as they set in the oven’s heat) like a balloon.  When you add anything to the batter (such as cheese), it weighs the batter down a bit, so the popovers won’t get quite as inflated as they would without the extra ingredient.

Ergo, if the steam leavening the batter doesn’t have to lift very much batter (as it wouldn’t in smaller portions, like in a mini muffin tin), then the popovers will be lighter and fluffier.  Since I baked them in larger portions, the steam, however powerful it might be, just couldn’t leaven the poor things as much as possible.  So, Gentle Reader, you may want to use your mini muffin tin for this recipe.  Assuming, of course, you have one.

Other than the less-than-ideal leavening, these popovers were quite good.  The flavor was rich and deep, and the texture appropriately crisp-crusted and tender inside.  The interior was perhaps a bit too moist for perfection, due again to the cheese, but not unpleasantly so.  Overall, this is a good popover recipe, if you must have cheese.  For me, I’ll take the airier plain popovers, thank you very much.

Provolone Popovers
Adapted from Bon Appétit
Makes 6 to 10 popovers

1 cup milk
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, divided
4 1/2 ounces (1 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
2 ounces (about 1/3 cup) finely chopped provolone
1 ounce (about 2 tablespoons) grated Parmesan
1 1/2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives (or 2 teaspoons dried)

1.  Whisk together milk, eggs, 1 tablespoon butter, flour, salt, and pepper until smooth.  Add cheeses and chives, and whisk to combine.  Cover tightly, and chill 1 hour to allow the batter to rest.

2.  Preheat the oven to 425°F with a rack in upper third.  Grease 10 cups of a standard muffin tin, or 6 cups of a popover pan, with the remaining 1 tablespoon butter.

3.  Gently stir batter, then divide evenly among the prepared tins (they should be about two-thirds full).  Bake at 425º F until puffed and well browned, 35 to 40 minutes.  Remove from oven, and quickly cut a small slit in the side of each popover.  Return to the oven for 5 minutes.  Remove from the tins and serve immediately.

Notes:
1.  Batter can be made 1 day ahead and chilled.

2.  Popovers may be baked and cooled on a wire rack, then frozen for up to 3 weeks.  Reheat unthawed in a 350º F oven until heated through, about 5 minutes.

3.  Maybe you should try this in a mini muffin tin.  In this case, you should get around 24, and bake them for only 18 to 20 minutes.

Week Forty-Nine: Breads With Cheese

I know this week is about cheese, not spices anymore, but these mustard-heavy crackers are so good that I just couldn’t resist including them.  Of course, I have been known to eat mustard straight from the jar, so take that with a grain of salt.

Though the flavor of these crackers is unabashedly bold with mustard spice, the tangy Swiss cheese used here is no shy violet, either.  Indeed, the cheese not only deepens and grounds the exuberant taste of mustard, but it provides an excellent chewy texture as well, bringing a needed substance to what would otherwise be a crumbling structure.  Here, the cheese is not so much flavoring as it is backbone.

I’ve also used a healthy amount of whole wheat flour in this recipe, to provide a little nuttiness to complement the flavor of Swiss.  All together, the zip of mustard, the robust whole wheat, and the richness of the cheese make a harmonious group.  Easy enough to throw together, these crackers would be a special little snack, or better, a flavorful match to any warming soup you might be planning for these ever-colder nights.

Mustard Swiss Crackers
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine
Makes about 60 crackers

1/2 cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
8 ounces Swiss cheese, coarsely grated
2 1/2 ounces (about 1/2 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
2 ounces (about 1/2 cup) whole wheat flour
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons dry mustard
1 1/2 teaspoons whole mustard seeds
1 teaspoon kosher salt

1.  Blend together the butter and cheese in a food processor until almost smooth.  Add remaining ingredients and pulse until just combined.  Divide the dough in half, and shape each half into a log about 8 inches long.  Wrap each log in parchment or wax paper, and freeze until firm, 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

2.  Preheat the oven to 350° F, placing a rack in the middle position.  Let 1 log of dough come to room temperature for 10 minutes before slicing.  Lightly butter a large baking sheet, or line with parchment paper.

3.  Cut 1 log crossways into 1/4 inch thick slices.  Arrange slices 1 inch apart on the prepared baking sheet.  Bake at 350º F until edges are just golden brown, about 15 minutes.  Rotate pan halfway through baking if necessary to ensure even browning.  Transfer crackers to a rack to cool.  Repeat with remaining dough.

Week Forty-Eight: Breads With Spices

Popovers, as I’ve come to discover over the course of the year, are among the most underrated breads out there.  Their airy, crunchy, and tender texture is universally appealing; but best of all, the elegant things could hardly be easier to whip up.  I mean this nearly literally: if you can whisk flour into liquid, you can make great popovers.  Not “good”, mind you, great.

Some may insist that the best popovers involve any one, or a combination, of the following: a one-hour (minimum) rest before baking, no rest before baking, a very hot oven, a cold oven, a very hot then moderate oven, a preheated pan, a cold pan, and/or a partridge in a pear tree.

Truth is, I’ve used all those methods, and I’ve not noticed much difference with any of them.  They’ll all produce equally good results - or equally bad results, if you open the oven door before the structure has set.  Just use whatever you feel most comfortable with, or whatever matches your schedule best.

But as good as a standard popover is, sometimes it can be a bit… plain.  Sure, it’ll go with any food from here to next week, but every so often, you want something more.  Rather than the agreeable, decorous nature a popover usually has, you want something a bit less genteel, a little risqué even.

To liven things up a bit, here we have the deep smoke of cumin combined with the bright spice of curry powder, resulting in a popover that’s just as easy, just as soigné, but far more sultry.  And though the flavors are far different, this variation still does as good a job at pairing with a wide variety of foods as their plain-Jane cousins.

Picture serving a basket full of these, piled high.  Break one open, and like a jewel box, you find the interior a stunning display of gold.  The smell of cumin hits your nose, and you crunch through a bite.  They’re not like any popover you’ve ever had before, but if new versions are all this delicious, you’d be willing to branch out a bit more often.

And as easy as they are, you really have no excuse not to.

Cumin Curry Popovers
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine
Makes 6 to 9 popovers

1/2 teaspoon whole cumin seed
1/2 teaspoon whole mustard seed
2 large eggs
3/4 cup milk
1/4 cup water
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
4 ounces (about 1 cup minus 2 tablespoons) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon curry powder
1/2 teaspoon salt

1.  Preheat the oven to 375° F, and place a rack in the lower third of the oven.  Generously grease six popover tins, or nine standard (1/2 cup) muffin tins.

2.  In a small pan over medium heat, toast the cumin and mustard seeds until fragrant, 3 to 5 minutes.  With a mortar and pestle, coarsely crush the seeds.

3.  In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, and water.  Add the melted butter in a stream, whisking constantly.  Add the flour, curry, salt, and ground cumin and mustard.  Whisk until combined, but still slightly lumpy.

4.  Divide the batter evenly among the prepared tins.  If desired, sprinkle additional whole cumin seeds over popovers.  Bake at 375º F for 45 minutes. Using a small, sharp knife, cut a small slit about 1/2 inch long in the side of each popover to release steam.  Bake for an additional 10 minutes.  Remove from pan, and cool slightly before serving.

Notes:
1.  Popovers may be cooled completely, then wrapped well and frozen.  Reheat in a 350º F oven for 3 to 5 minutes, or until warmed through.

Week Forty-Seven: Miscellaneous International Breads

A few months ago, I was alerted to a type of Malaysian bread that I’d never heard of before, called roti canai [RO-tee chan-EYE].  As I’ve mentioned before, I dearly love discovering new breads, and am constantly amazed at how much variety there can be from such few and humble ingredients.

Though I’ve never been to Malaysia, or had the opportunity to have real roti canai, this beloved bread seems to be exactly the type of bread I crave: flaky, chewy, crisp-edged, and lightly charred for notes of smoke.  Roti canai inspires a great deal of fond remembrances from expat Malaysians and tourists alike.

Served mostly from the ubiquitous Mamak food stalls, these flatbreads are served either plain or with any number of ingredients mixed into the dough.  When plain, they are usually round, but when filled, they’re more often square, due to the folding process.  Their widespread popularity stems from the fact that they can comprise a whole meal, and don’t require utensils to eat, which also explains their popularity as a late-night snack or breakfast.

The typical method for making this bread involves a practiced series of flipping and stretching the dough to tissue-thickness, as seen here; it’s a method that I didn’t even bother to try on my own, though it does look like fun.  Instead, taking a cue from a few roti canai recipes I ran across, I’ve used a system of flattening, buttering, rolling up, and flattening the dough again.  A very similar technique was employed when I made ensaïmadas some time ago, except that roti canai are flattened a second time.

The result might not be wholly authentic, but it was absolutely delicious.  Tender inside, and the thin outer layer crisp and slightly charred, it was a perfect match for a simple curry, but would be just as good with anything from soup to a fried egg.  The flavor is mild enough to match whatever you like, but it’s so delicious that you’ll want to serve it with everything.

(And a big, special thanks to Sarah for the tip about this wonderful bread!)

Roti Canai
Makes 12 flatbreads

8 ounces (about 1 3/4 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
4 ounces (1 cup minus 2 tablespoons) white whole wheat flour (see note 1 below)
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 stick butter, melted and cooled slightly, divided
3/4 cup water, at room temperature

1.  In a large bowl, whisk together the flours and salt.  Drizzle in 2 ounces (1/2 stick) of the melted butter, and toss or rub in until absorbed.  Add the water, and stir until a rough dough forms and all flour is moistened.  If dry spots remain, add additional water by spoonfuls until there are no more.

2.  Turn out onto a work surface, and knead until smooth and elastic, 3 to 5 minutes.  Cover with plastic wrap, and let rest for at least 1 hour, and up to 3 hours.  Alternatively, the dough may be wrapped tightly and refrigerated for 1 day.  Bring to room temperature for 30 minutes before proceeding.

3.  Divide the dough into 12 equal pieces.  Roll into roughly round balls between palm and counter, flatten slightly, and set aside, covered loosely with plastic wrap.  Let rest for 15 to 30 minutes.

4. Using a rolling pin and your hands, roll or press each ball of dough until flat, dusting with only as much extra flour as needed to prevent sticking, or use a little melted butter on your hands.

Lift the dough and stretch it until very thin and nearly transparent; or, if you’re confident, try rapidly flipping the dough until tissue-thin, as seen in this video.

The dough should be strong and supple enough to easily stretch like this; if it resists, cover and let rest for about 15 minutes.

5.  Brush the top of the dough with some of the reserved melted butter, and tightly roll up jelly-roll style into a long, thin cylinder.

Coil the cylinder, seam-side down, and pinch the end to seal.

Set aside and keep covered while shaping the remaining dough.

6.  Using a rolling pin, and dusting with only enough flour to prevent sticking, roll each coil out to a flat round, about 6 inches across.

7.  Heat a nonstick pan over medium-high heat, until hot but not smoking.  Brush each piece of dough with melted butter, and place buttered-side down in the heated pan.  Brush the unbuttered side with butter.  Cook for 40 to 60 seconds, or until just beginning to puff and the edges look dry, then flip dough over.  Cook for an additional 30 to 45 seconds, or until browned or lightly charred in spots.  If needed, flip again and cook the first side for a few more seconds until done.  Stack cooked roti wrapped in a kitchen towel to keep warm until serving.

Notes:
1.  If you don’t have white whole wheat flour, you can substitute a mixture of all-purpose and regular whole wheat flour, combined in equal amounts.

Week Forty: One More Time

One of my favorite breads I’ve made this year is farinata.  This Northern Italian speciality, made basically of chickpea flour and luxuriously copious amounts of olive oil and black pepper, results in such a delectable bread that it is worth every minute spent tracking down the crucial main ingredient: chickpea (or, gram) flour.

And, like most very simple breads, I couldn’t help but meddle with the formula.  The item that resulted from adding almond flour and my stubborn ignoring of the proper cooking method was, shall we say, not as good as the original.  Perhaps if I had been more careful and thought it all through, things might have gone differently, and I would’ve had a new recipe to add to the permanent file.  As it was, the bread stuck badly to the not-hot-enough pan, the flavors were muddy and unbalanced, and the result was simply not that great.

So, rather than risk a repeat performance (or lack thereof), I elected to leave the farinata method to the farinata, and create a different bread altogether, with the same and unadorned flavors of chickpea and almond.  Knowing that such gluten-free flours would never produce a decent yeast-risen loaf, it had to be some sort of flatbread.  Crackers, I though, would take particularly good advantage of the natural coarse textures, so that’s the route I took.

I mixed in a bit of all-purpose flour to help hold everything together, instead of just crumbling into oblivion when bitten.  Taking a single flavoring cue from the original farinata, I added a generous helping of black pepper, intensified with a pinch of cayenne pepper.

The golden crackers I pulled from my oven filled the kitchen with a nutty, spicy aroma.  They weren’t the most crisp things I’d ever tasted, but I had rolled them fairly thick, so it wasn’t a surprising state of affairs.  (If you prefer a crisper cracker, roll them very thin, and dock the surface with a fork before baking; otherwise, they’ll just puff up.)  The bite of pepper was certainly present, but it built gently and pleasingly on the back of the tongue, rather than brashly announcing its presence at first taste. 

The chickpea flour did bring a slightly dry characteristic to the crackers, a state that might be ameliorated by letting the dough rest overnight (and fully hydrate), as opposed to the 30-minute cat nap I gave it.  But dip these full-flavored guys in some hummus, and you’d never notice the difference.  (Take it from one who knows.)  These crackers, though not exactly like the original attempt at mixing chickpea and almond, were a far better way of blending the two flavors.  Finally, I’ve got a recipe worth hanging on to.

Almond Chickpea Flatbread Crackers
Makes about 50 crackers

5 ounces (about 1 cup) chickpea (gram) flour
2¼ ounces (1/2 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
2 ounces (1/2 cup) almond flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper, to taste
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup plus 1 to 2 tablespoons water

1.  In a bowl, whisk together the flours, salt, and peppers.  Add the olive oil and 1/4 cup of water.  Mix together until a shaggy dough forms.  Add the extra water by tablespoons as needed until all dry ingredients are moistened.  Knead together, in the bowl or on a work surface, until smooth.  Cover with plastic wrap, and let rest at least 30 minutes.  Preheat the oven to 400º F.

2.  On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a rectangle, about 15 x 10 inches in size, or about 1/4 inch thick.  Using a pizza cutter, knife, bench scraper, or cookie cutter, cut out crackers of desired size and shape.  Gather any scraps together, knead quickly until combined, and let rest 10 minutes before re-rolling.

3.  Transfer cut-out crackers to a large parchment-lined baking sheet, and bake at 400º F for 7 to 12 minutes, depending on size, until barely golden brown.  Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

Notes:
1.  After mixing the dough, it can be wrapped tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerated overnight.  Let come to room temperature for 30 minutes before rolling out.

2.  Dough should not be re-rolled more than once, as the crackers will toughen with every re-rolling.  Cutting out square or diamond shaped crackers will obviously eliminate the need to re-roll scraps, though I fully understand the appeal of, say, bunny or flower shaped crackers.