A Bread A Day

Week Thirteen: Filled Breads

When I decided on the theme for this week, I knew this dish had to be included.  I love, love, love steamed buns!  They’re usually quite delicious; and they’re single, discrete units of food, which somehow appeals to me on a visceral level.  Steamed buns are similar to dumplings, but more bready.  When well-made, the dough is so perfectly sticky and mildly sweet, with the fluffiest texture you’ve seen since you blow-dried your kitten’s fur.

I had made steamed buns once before, but it had been years (how is there always something else new and interesting to cook?).  I remembered it being quite good, so I dug out my old recipe, and realized with a modicum of horror that the dough I had used to great success had in fact been nothing more than… canned biscuits.  Oh dear.  It was time for some research, and I own no Asian-themed cookbooks.  To the internets!

I quickly found that recipes for steamed buns fell into two camps: one with homemade dough that rarely turned out well, and one that used canned biscuits.  Apparently, that canned biscuit dough turns into a fairly decent - if a bit ersatz - steamed bun dough.  (My taste memory had not failed me, after all!  Vindication!)  And sure, if I was merely craving steamed buns, I would probably have resorted to that trick, making sure to bury the cardboard tube very well in the garbage before anyone saw.  But it’s called “A Bread A Day”, not “A Can Of Biscuits A Day”.  I had to find a good recipe.

Within the Homemade Dough camp, there were two basic factions: those who used yeast, and those who used baking powder.  Neither seemed to perfectly produce that unique, soft, spongy texture so characteristic of a good steamed bun.  Occasionally, though, I would run across a recipe that used both.  This is unique and interesting, because baking powder becomes activated and starts to raise a dough as soon as it gets wet; whereas yeast needs time and moisture to leaven dough.  (Side note: double-acting baking powder, which is what you probably have in your pantry, activates a second time when it is heated.  Neat!)  So how does that work?  Well, first, the dough is mixed with the yeast, and then the baking powder is kneaded in later.  This gives the dough a good flavor from the acids produced by the yeast, but takes advantage of the tiny bubbles produced by the chemical leavening of the baking powder.  You get the best of both worlds!

Another problem I noticed people running across quite a bit was that the dough cooked up tough, meaning the gluten was getting over-produced.  One solution to that is to handle the dough less; but it’s nearly impossible to handle these buns less.  You have to mix the dough, divide it, roll it out, fill it, and seal it.  That’s a lot for the poor little dough to handle!  So, then, the next solution is to reduce the protein count of the flour used.  The more protein a flour has, the more gluten it will produce.  That’s why you have bread flour (the highest protein at around 12%), all-purpose flour (moderate protein at about 10%), and cake flour (the lowest protein at about 9%).  So if all-purpose flour wasn’t cutting it, there was not choice but to go down to cake flour.

Okay, we’ve got our flour, and our two leavening agents.  But still, comments I read online said again and again how extremely difficult it is to get the proper texture.  People had tried time and time again, only to be disappointed at every turn.  This one was too tough, that one just didn’t taste right.  My confidence was shaken.  Maybe I should just pick something else?  Something simpler?  But no; I was determined.  Visions of glistening buns, fresh from my own pot, filled my head; and I persevered.

So, scared a bit from the tales of horror I had read, I carefully selected a recipe, and I began it one day when I knew I would be able to finish everything completely.  I had put so much effort into it already,  I wasn’t going to take any chances.  Geez, I had even made my own kimchi for the filling, since I just could not find any in the store.  (Incidentally, if you like kimchi as much as I do, I highly recommend making your own.  It’s really easy!  And it’s so, so good!)  Nothing was going to stand between me and steamed-bun-perfection.  I was not going anywhere until I had some steamed buns on my counter.  No way was I going to leave anything to chance.  I was not going to mess this up.  Do you see where this is going?

Yeah, I abused this dough.  I ended up running an errand after mixing the dough, so it went into the fridge.  The errand took too long, and I had no time to finish the buns that day.  So into the freezer went the dough, overnight.  In the morning, it was microwaved (on low) to defrost, then left to rise a bit, then filled, and refrigerated again.  When I finally lowered the poor things into the steamer, my hopes were not very high, but it was far too late to start anything over.  Fifteen minutes of steam later, taunting wisps of steam smelling of kimchi and pork wafting out from under the lid, I took my first peek.  Well, they didn’t look awful, but the proof would be in the tasting.

They felt properly sticky, they looked properly puffy, so I took a cautious bite.  My teeth sunk through that familiar soft skin, into the sweet interior.  Holy cow, it worked!  Despite all the improper handling, that familiar taste was there.  The slight stickiness, the pillowy texture, the sweetness, it was all spot on.  (And the spicy filling was just perfect, too!)  Success was mine!  Dipped into a mixture of soy sauce, hoisin sauce, rice vinegar, and scallions, they were just right.  And if that dough could take that much abuse and still turn out so well, I might never go back to canned biscuits again.  Now I just need to work on making the tops look prettier…

Steamed Buns (Char Siu Bao)
Adapted in part from David Chang, via Gourmet Magazine
Makes 16

For dough:
1 cup warm water (105º-115º F), divided
1/2 teaspoon active-dry yeast
3 tablespoons sugar, plus a pinch
2 tablespoons nonfat dried milk
15 ounces cake flour (about 3 1/2 cups), plus extra for dusting
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
White vinegar, for steaming

For filling:
1/2 pound ground pork
1 cup kimchi
1/3 cup sliced green onions (1 large or 2 small)
2 1/2 tablespoons hoisin sauce
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 teaspoon five-spice powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper

1.  To make dough: add a pinch of sugar to 1/3 cup of the warm water, and stir to dissolve.  Sprinkle yeast over, stir, and let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes.  Whisk dried milk into remaining water.

2.  Sift together flour and remaining sugar in a large bowl.  Stir in yeast mixture with a fork until a dough forms.  Do not add baking powder at this point.  Turn dough out onto a surface, and knead with your hands until all flour is incorporated.  Add additional cake flour only as needed to keep dough from sticking to hands or counter.  Knead until dough is smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes.

3.  Shape dough into a round ball.  Transfer to a lightly-oiled large bowl, and turn to coat all sides.  Cover with plastic wrap and let dough rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 2 hours.

4.  Turn dough out onto a lightly-floured work surface, press gently to deflate, and flatten slightly into a round disc.  Sprinkle baking powder over the surface, then gather the edges of the dough in, and pinch to seal in baking powder.  Knead until baking powder is fully incorporated, about 5 minutes, using only enough flour to keep dough from sticking.  Return dough to bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let stand 30 minutes.

5.  While dough is resting, make filling: finely chop kimchi and green onions.  Using a fork to prevent smushing the meat, mix pork, kimchi, green onions, and remaining filling ingredients together.  Set aside.

6.  Cut 16 squares of parchment or wax paper, each about 3 inches square.  Turn dough out onto a lightly-floured surface.  Divide into 16 equal pieces, quickly shape each into a roughly round shape, dust with flour, and set aside.  Covering pieces not being used, and flouring counter, rolling pin, and your hands, roll out each piece of dough into a circle.  Fill round with a scant 1/4 cup of filling.  Bring sides up around filling, and seal with your fingertips by pinching and giving a little twist.  Set each on a square of parchment paper, and set aside.  Cover loosely with plastic wrap to prevent drying out, and repeat with remaining dough and filling.  Set aside to let rise again for about 20 to 30 minutes.

7.  Set a steamer rack inside a large-enough pot or skillet, one with a tight-fitting lid.  Add enough water to come to within 1/2 inch of bottom of rack, and add about 1 tablespoon vinegar.  Bring to a boil.  Carefully place as many buns (still on the paper) as will fit on the steamer rack, being sure not to let them touch.  Cover tightly, reduce heat to keep water at a low boil, and steam until buns are puffed and set, about 15 minutes.  Add additional water and vinegar as needed.  Cool a few minutes before serving.

Notes:
1.  If you can’t find kimchi, you can use the following ingredients instead: 1 cup sliced napa cabbage, 1/3 additional cup green onions, 1 tablespoon fish sauce (nuoc mam), 2 tablespoons rice vinegar, 1 tablespoon soy sauce, 1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger, 2 large cloves minced garlic, 2 teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes.  Mix the ingredients together while dough is rising for the first time (after step 3), using your hands and squeezing the mixture to crush the cabbage a little, and let stand at room temperature while dough rises.

2.  Be sure to use cake flour any time flour is called for in this recipe, i.e., when dusting the work surface.  This dough absorbed a considerable amount of flour from the counter, and all-purpose flour would add too much protein to the dough (and therefore more gluten, resulting in toughness).

3.  You can freeze the filled, uncooked buns, for steaming at a later date.  You can either thaw them in the refrigerator before cooking, or steam them straight from the freezer, giving an additional 5 minutes or so cooking time.  Just be sure the filling is thoroughly cooked before serving by using an instant-read thermometer.  Ground meat of all types should be cooked to 155º F.

Week Thirteen: Filled Breads

One thing about filled breads is that they tend to be a little over the top.  They’re a bit extravagant, a bit flamboyant.  I mean, if you’re going to eat anything, it ought to be good on its own, right?  So why bother rolling it into some dough; why not just cook them separately, save yourself some trouble, and be done with it?

Because we can, that’s why.  Because it makes bread and filling both a little more special.  Because sometimes, you just want something opulent and lavish, and a little showy.   And because sometimes, you have to pull out the big guns.

This bread is serious.  This bread ain’t messing around.  None of your precious croissant, or stately baguette here; this bread means business, so you’d better just forget about eating healthily for today.  Here we have yeast-risen rolls, filled with spicy sausage and cheese, and then fried to a gorgeous golden brown.  Oh my, yes.

You can use any number of highly-seasoned sausages in this application, but please don’t use anything mild; the flavor will just get lost.  You need something robust to match the sharp cheddar and the heartiness from the frying.  I used some very spicy chicken chorizo with aged white cheddar, but the combinations are endless: try andouille with cheddar, linguica with smoked gouda, merguez with feta, even a quality pepperoni with mozzarella would be delicious.

If you know me, you know that I’m not real big on heavy, rich foods.  I’m more of a vegetables and plain yogurt person.  (I think sushi is, generally speaking, the perfect food.)  But in retrospect, I wish I had stuffed as much cheese and sausage into these rolls as humanly possible.  I was a little concerned about the filling falling out during cooking; this worry was baseless.  When you slide these rolls into the oil, assuming it’s at the proper temperature, a lovely crust forms, containing anything that might try to escape.  Just make sure you pinch the seal together tightly, and you’ll have nothing to fear.  And after it was all cooked, I found that some of the rolls were a little understuffed, if anything.  Trust me, no one will be complaining that there is too much delicious sausage and melty cheese in their bread.  If you can manage to wrap the dough around it, it’s not too much filling.

These rolls have a bit of cornmeal in the dough, and are lightly dusted with more cornmeal before cooking, both of which lend the crust a wonderful crunch.  And if you haven’t over-worked the dough (don’t be too cautious, you do want some gluten), that crunch gives way to a soft interior, with a gooey heart full of massive flavors.  The Cajun seasoning sprinkled on the outside is almost like gilding the lily; except that this whole concept is basically like taking the lily, stuffing it with gilded cheese, rolling it in gilded dough, and deep-frying it in gilded oil.  As Bukowski said, if you’re going to go, go all the way.

Let me just wrap this up by saying: aged white cheddar.  Spicy chorizo.  Stuffed into bread.  Fried.

That is all.

not enough filling!

Chorizo and Cheddar Fried Bread
Adapted from Emeril Lagasse
Makes 24 breads

2 1/4 teaspoons active-dry yeast

1 1/2 tablespoons honey

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 cups warm water (105 - 110 degrees F)

24 ounces (a scant 6 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour

1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons cornmeal, plus extra for dusting

2 teaspoons salt

1/2 pound ground spicy sausage (such as chorizo, or similar)

1/2 pound white cheddar cheese, grated

Vegetable oil for frying

Cajun seasoning of choice (such as Tony Chachere’s, or Emeril’s Essence)

1.  Combine the water and honey in the bowl of a stand mixer, and whisk to combine.   Sprinkle the yeast over, stir, and let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes.  Add the oil.  Reserving a handful of the flour (1 to 2 ounces), add the remaining amount, the cornmeal, and the salt.

2.  With the mixer on low speed, beat the mixture with the dough hook until it begins to form a dough, then increase the speed to medium and beat until the mixture pulls away from the sides of the bowl, forms a ball, and climbs slightly up the dough hook.  Transfer the dough to a lightly-oiled bowl and turn it to coat all sides. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 2 hours.  Conversely, you can refrigerate it overnight at this point (8 to 10 hours).

3.  While the dough rises, brown the sausage in a skillet over medium heat. Remove to a paper towel-lined plate to drain.  Set aside and let cool to room temperature.  If the dough was refrigerated, let it sit out at room temperature while you complete this step.

4.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and sprinkle it with cornmeal.  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and press gently to deflate.  Divide the dough into 24 equal pieces.  With the palm of your hand, roll the portions on an un-floured surface to form small round rolls.  Cover the rolls not being used while you fill each one.  Using a sharp knife, make a quick “X” in the bottom of each roll.  Spread the dough open with your thumb and pointer finger to make a small cavity about 1 inch deep and 2 inches wide.  Fill with 2 teaspoons of cheese, then top with 2 teaspoons of sausage, pressing the mixture gently into the cavity.  Pull the dough around the filling, and pinch tightly together to close the cavity.  Place seam-side down on the prepared baking sheet.  Dust the tops with more cornmeal, and cover the rolls with plastic wrap.  Let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 30 minutes.

5.  Line another baking sheet with a folded-up paper shopping bag (to help absorb more oil), and lay at least a double thickness of paper towels atop that.  In a suitable pan, heat enough vegetable oil to come at least half-way up the sides of the rolls, to about 375 degrees F.  Gently sliding the rolls into the oil, fry them in batches for about 3 minutes, then turn each one over with a metal utensil and cook the other side until golden brown.  Remove from the oil and drain on the lined baking sheet.  Immediately season the breads with the Cajun seasoning.  Serve warm.

Notes:
1.  These don’t keep very well; but if you must, reheat them in a 375 degree F oven until crispy and heated through, about 10 minutes.

2.  Please be careful when adding the dough to the hot oil!  Burns from hot oil are nasty.

3.  For frying, I used my big stock pot (to cut down on splattering) and 1 quart of canola oil; but feel free to use your cast iron pan - that’s what it’s there for! - and whatever high smoke-point oil you like (that means no olive oil!).

Week Thirteen: Filled Breads

barbecue shrimp as bread

Well, it’s that time of year again.  The days are suddenly longer, there’s the promise of warmth in the air, and trees and plants everywhere are starting to grow their leaves back.  Yes, it’s Spring, and that means one thing: it’s almost time for Crawfish Bread!

See, in New Orleans, the beginning of Spring heralds the fast approach of JazzFest, those two glorious weekends in late April and early May when you can get an abundance of food you simply can’t get any other time of year.  (Oh, and apparently there’s some fairly decent music, too.)  I’m talking Crawfish Monica, Cochon de Lait po-boys, the mysteriously-named Oyster Sack, Mango Freezes, and the King of JazzFest fare, that fantastically good Crawfish Bread.

For those of you not in the know, Crawfish Bread involves some extremely good bread, filled with crawfish tails, spices, and apparently all of the cheese.  It’s simple and a bit over the top, but tastes amazing.  It’s so rich and so delicious, it’s probably a good thing they only serve it once a year.  Like most Cajun and Creole food, you just know somebody’s been cooking all day to make it, and is thrilled to share it with you.  Until they run out, that is, which they seem to do every year.  If you’ve ever tried it, count yourself amongst the blessed.

So when I settled on filled breads this week, with Spring finally sprung, and JazzFest around the corner, it was a given that this native New Orleanian would make Crawfish Bread.  But you see, I don’t live in New Orleans now.  I live in Chicago.  And most Chicagoans wouldn’t know which way on a crawfish was up, even if they had one, bless ‘em.  What I’m saying is that I couldn’t get my hands on any crawfish tails on short notice, and without great expense.  A little improvisation was in order.

I had my heart set on something authentically New Orleanian, but I was relegated to ingredients available in Chicago.  Shrimp are always readily available, but simply substituting shrimp for crawfish is like subbing water for chocolate.  I racked my brain (and my cookbooks) for a similarly full-flavored and traditional shrimp dish, when I finally hit on it.  Barbecue Shrimp!  Perfect!

And once again, if you’re unfamiliar with New Orleans-style barbecue shrimp, allow me to enlighten you.  Invented at the old-school Pascal’s Manale Restaurant, this dish contains no barbecue sauce, nor is it cooked on a grill.  If you ever order it, be prepared for a plate full of shell-on and head-on shrimp, almost literally swimming in a butter-rich and extremely flavorful sauce, full of garlic, lemon, and spice.  As for the name, you’re on your own.  I don’t know, and I don’t think anyone else really does either.  I think the origins have become more legend than truth anymore.  Notwithstanding, it is easily worth the messy arms and dry-cleaning bill you end up with after indulging.

The problem with filling a bread with such a sauce-y dish is just that: the sauce.  No way would it work.  And where was the cheese?  There had to be cheese!  I then remembered a fantastic recipe from Melissa Kronenthal’s amazingly-written and -styled blog, The Traveler’s Lunchbox,  which included shrimp, chiles, and feta.  I’d never had such a combination that I can recall, and it was every bit as good as she makes it out.  Feta it was, then.  As for the sauce, I simply reduced the leftover liquid in the pot, and thickened it with a little flour.

So now, I had the seafood, a rich pop of full flavors from the reduced sauce, and the cheese.  All that was left was to roll it into a batch of dough, and bake away.  Now, I wasn’t about to just make some Barbecue Shrimp, and toss the lot into some dough.  No, we ate nearly half of the shrimp for dinner, and had to stop ourselves eating more.  As you can see below, I served it over brown rice (which is certainly not traditional at all, but helped round it out into an entrée), with crusty bread and beer (which is practically mandatory).

I know what you’re thinking, looking at the recipe below.  You’re thinking there’s way too much seasoning.  You’re thinking there’s way too much garlic.  And you’re thinking there’s way too much butter.  I know, because that’s what I thought at first; but then I decided to trust my source, the illustrious and venerable Commander’s Palace.  Their cookbook has never, ever failed me; so I urge you to trust me in return.  It may not be for the very faint of palate, but that combination of flavors is just delectably perfect!  They know what they’re doing.

The aroma that filled the entire apartment was seductive and spicy, full of baking bread, rosemary, garlic, shrimp, and butter.  It smelled like a Cajun kitchen ought to.  I pulled the finished loaves from the oven, and little browned bits of shrimp and feta peered out at me through the slashes in the top like the bread was giving me a big snaggle-toothed grin.  Was it a fair amount of prep work?  Yes, it was.  But was it worth it?  Oh my, was it ever!  Just you try it for yourself - you’ll see!

New Orleans-Style Barbecue Shrimp and Feta Bread
Adapted in part from Commander’s Kitchen, by Ti Adelaide Martin and Jamie Shannon
Makes 2 loaves

For bread dough:
2 1/4 teaspoons active-dry yeast
2 1/2 teaspoons sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/4 cup warm water (105º-115º F)
17 1/2 ounces all-purpose flour (about 3 1/2 cups + 3 tablespoons)
1 teaspoon salt 

For shrimp filling:
2 pounds large shrimp, shells on (preferably heads on, if you can find them)
2 tablespoons Creole or Cajun seasoning, divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 head garlic, peeled and minced
2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary
3 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
3 tablespoons hot sauce
1 lemon, juiced, quartered (reserve juice and quartered rind)
1/3 cup beer
Salt and pepper to taste
1/3 cup minced parsley
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
2-3 tablespoons all-purpose flour 
6 ounces feta, crumbled

1.  Make the dough: in the bowl of a stand mixer, combine the water and sugar, stirring until all the sugar is melted.  Sprinkle the yeast over, and stir to dissolve.  Let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes.  Add the oil.

2.  Reserving a handful of the flour, add the flour and salt to the mixture.  Combine at low speed with the dough hook until dough comes together, adding the reserved flour by tablespoons only as needed.  When dough no longer sticks to side of bowl, increase speed to medium and knead until a smooth, cohesive ball is formed.  Stop the mixer and scrape the bowl and hook as necessary.

3.  Transfer the dough to a lightly-oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place for about 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or until doubled in size.

4.  While the dough rises, cook the shrimp: lightly toss the shrimp with 1 tablespoon of the Creole seasoning.  Preheat a large skillet or saucepan over high heat.  Add the oil, and let it begin to smoke.  Add the garlic and rosemary, and stir to lightly brown the garlic.  Be careful not to burn it.  Add the shrimp and stir.  Add the Worcestershire, hot sauce, lemon juice, and quartered lemon rind.  Let reduce slightly, 30 seconds to 1 minute.

5.  Add the beer, and deglaze the pan by stirring and shaking the pan.  Boil to reduce the mixture, and cook another 2 to 3 minutes until the shrimp are fully cooked (depending on size).  The liquid should have a saucy consistency.  Add the remaining tablespoon of Creole seasoning, pepper, salt, and parsley.  Reduce the heat to medium-high and add the butter a little bit at a time, shaking the pan or stirring until incorporated.  Adjust seasoning if needed, and remove lemon pieces.

6.  Remove about 2/3 of the shrimp to a bowl to cool, leaving the sauce in the pan.  (Eat the rest of the shrimp immediately, with a crusty baguette for soaking up the sauce, lemon wedges, and lots of paper towels; and enjoy!)

7.  When cool enough to handle, peel the remaining shrimp and chop roughly, into about 3-4 pieces per shrimp.  Reduce the remaining sauce in the pan by turning the heat to high, until thick and dark brown, but still a bit liquid.  Turn the heat to medium-high.  Add the flour by tablespoons, whisking to break up any lumps if necessary, and stir until a thick paste is formed.  Cook an additional minute or two, stirring constantly.  Turn off heat, and let cool in pan for a minute.  Add to the chopped shrimp, and set aside.

8.  Dust a baking sheet with cornmeal.  Turn the dough onto a floured surface, and divide in half.  Press each half into a rough circle, flour the top, and roll or press into an approximately 11 by 9 inch oval.  Evenly sprinkle the tops of each with the feta (3 ounces per piece of dough), and the shrimp mixture, leaving a 1/2 to 1 inch border.

9.  Starting with the longer side of the oval, carefully roll the dough up jelly-roll style, being careful not to let any filling escape.  Pinch the seam gently to seal, tuck the loose ends under, and transfer to the prepared baking sheet, seam side down.  Cover the loaves with plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature until doubled in size, about 1 1/4 hours.

10.  Twenty minutes or so before baking, preheat the oven to 400º F.  Remove the plastic wrap from the loaves, dust with flour, and make 3 quick, diagonal slashes in each loaf.  Bake until the loaves are a rich brown color, about 30 to 35 minutes.  Let cool slightly, before cutting and serving warm.

Notes:
1.  I accidentally used bread flour instead of all-purpose, and it did come out a little tough.  But otherwise, the flavor was spot on!

2.  Again, please don’t adjust the garlic or other seasonings in the shrimp recipe (unless you have a very good reason, like a deathly allergy, or something).  I know it seems like a lot, but just take a leap of faith with this one.

Week Thirteen: Filled Breads

Okay, quick show of hands: who doesn’t like prosciutto?  No one?  That’s what I thought.  Prosciutto is one of the main reasons I pity vegetarians on occasion.  I don’t eat much meat generally speaking, but if you set a plate of prosciutto in front of me, you’d better not expect to have any leftovers.  Prosciutto can, like Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother, transform nearly any food into a more elegant and glamorous version of itself.  Think melon, scallops, asparagus, dates, and on and on; just wrapping a slice around anything makes it worlds better.

Prosciutto and bread are like frick and frack.  You can’t find a simpler and better appetizer to set in front of guests than a platter of sliced baguette and prosciutto.  Add some creamy brie to the mix, and you might not even have to bother cooking dinner.  So it’s only natural to add it into the bread, rather than just wrapping it around a breadstick, or layering on top of a slice.

This bread has a fairly wet dough, much like a ciabatta.  This gives it a pleasantly chewy texture, and makes the finished loaf rather flat, since it tends to spread a bit during the final proofing.  I also think the two are an entirely apt pairing; you know, that whole “if it grows together, it goes together” bit?  It’s something like that.  These two quintessentially Italian foods, while extremely delicious in and of themselves, are just amazing together.  The prosciutto gets layered onto the rolled-out dough, then gently folded in, resulting in flavorful meaty streaks throughout the loaf.  And when you add a light dusting of black pepper into the dough, well, they just all go to eleven.

The bread cooks up soft and springy on the inside, with a beautiful brown crust that seems rather tough and hard on pulling out of the oven, but that softens up considerably after sitting a while.  You can, of course, substitute any type of charcuterie you like instead of prosciutto; but just make sure it’s sliced very thinly.  I think the more flavorful the meat is, though, the better in this application.  I just love those little bursts of savory umami within each bite.

One obvious use for this bread is to lightly toast slices under a broiler, and serve accompanying a cheese plate for a very elegant hors d’oeuvre.  Or, if you can’t bear to share it (I understand completely), could you possibly find a better bread to make grilled cheese with?  Spread some pesto, or unsalted almond butter (or a mixture!) on one side, and fill with your choice of lovely melting cheeses (perhaps the leftovers from your cheese plate?), and grill in olive oil.  Maybe add a tomato in there too, or a thin smattering of blueberry jam.  Hey, why am I suddenly hungry?

Prosciutto Bread
Makes 1 loaf

1/2 cup warm water (105º-115º F)
1/2 cup warm milk (105º-115º F)
1 3/4 teaspoons active-dry yeast
8 ounces bread flour (about 2 cups), divided
4 ounces all-purpose flour (about 1 cup) 
1 teaspoon salt
2 ounces prosciutto (at least), thinly sliced and torn into bits
Freshly ground black pepper
Cornmeal, for dusting 

1.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, stir the yeast into a little of the warm milk.  Let sit until foamy, about 5 to 10 minutes.  Reserving a handful of the bread flour (about 1 ounce), combine the remaining amounts of the two flours.

2.  Add the remaining milk and water, the mixture of the two flours, and the salt.  Using the dough hook, mix at the lowest speed until the dough comes together, scraping down the bowl if necessary.  Add the reserved bread flour by tablespoons if needed; you’re looking for a fairly loose consistency, but the dough should mostly clear the sides of the bowl.  Knead 5 minutes.  Turn the mixer to the second-lowest speed, and knead an additional 1 minute.

3.  Transfer the dough to a large, lightly-oiled bowl, cover with lightly-oiled plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.

4.  Dust a baking sheet (lined with parchment, if you prefer) with cornmeal.  Turn the dough out onto a floured work surface.  Gently press and stretch (or roll out with a rolling pin, if you like) the dough into a rough 10 by 14 inch rectangle.  Lay the prosciutto evenly over the dough, and grind black pepper over the top to taste.

5.  Starting with the short sides, fold the dough in thirds, as you would fold a letter.  Press gently to flatten the dough a little.  Starting again with the short side, roll the dough up into a short, fat package.  Carefully transfer the dough to the prepared baking sheet, stretching a little to lengthen into a loaf shape.  (You can use gravity to help you stretch the dough.)  On the baking sheet, press the dough a little to flatten further.  Dust liberally with flour, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise again until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.  30 minutes before baking, preheat oven to 400º F.

6.  When dough is fully proofed, uncover, and make 3 or 4 quick diagonal slashes in the top using a sharp serrated knife.  Spray with water, and put into the hot oven.  Bake 5 minutes, then spray again.  Bake another five minutes, quickly spray the loaf again, and continue baking for another 20 to 25 minutes, or until well-browned on top and sounding hollow when tapped on the bottom.  Remove to a wire rack and let cool before slicing.

Notes:
1.  If you have any sourdough starter from making this bread (you all are following along at home, right?), or from any other source, you should absolutely add it.  But then again, I’m a little sourdough crazy from last week still; so take that with a grain of salt.

2.  Speaking of salt, and depending on your tolerance for it, you may choose to decrease the amount of salt in this bread, to 1/2 teaspoon.  If you do, though, your bread will rise faster (since salt retards yeast activity), so either decrease the amount of yeast as well (to maybe 1 1/4 or 1 1/2 teaspoons), or just keep an eye on it.  I have not tried that out, so I can’t verify or guarantee those measurements; but that’s my educated guess.

3.  I absolutely heart prosciutto, so I think 2 ounces is a minimum here.  I would increase that amount next time, probably to 3 ounces, and also decrease the amount of salt (see note 2) - a good prosciutto is so salty, the under-salted bread is a good foil for it.  Otherwise, it can all be a little much on the palate after a few bites.  I think 4 ounces would be overkill, despite my love for all ingredients involved; besides, it would impede the rising of the dough.  I suppose, though, it all depends if you want Prosciutto with Bread, or Bread with Prosciutto.  Do whatever floats your boat.

Week Thirteen: Filled Breads

What is it about bread that makes us want to wrap it around things, to cut and fill it, to stuff it with any and everything imaginable?  Why do we serve bread as a side, and not as the main dish?  Certainly, nutrition plays a part; man cannot live on bread alone, and all that.  But personally, I think we mostly do it because it just tastes so darn good.  A thoughtfully-crafted sandwich is a thing of beauty, and is far more than the sum of its parts (BLT, anyone?).

But this week, I’m offering up some filled breads.  These are breads that can stand alone on a dinner plate, no longer relegated to the wicker confines of a bread basket.  Add a quick salad on the side, and you can call it a day.  I’ve taken care to choose recipes that are legitimately filled and baked, not just recipes that have things kneaded or stirred into the dough, or baked before slicing and filling.  And it wasn’t terribly easy, I have to say!  What I’ve ended up with are breads that run the gamut, as far as types of filling, flavor combinations, cooking methods, and origins.  These breads will take you from appetizer to dessert, focusing mostly on entrée-able recipes.

I’m kicking things off this week with a classic: the calzone.  In order to make a good calzone (or pizza), you need to start with a good crust.  You can use the prettiest mushrooms, the spiciest pepperoni, or the creamiest mozzarella in the world, and it’ll still taste like cardboard if you put it on one of those pre-made crusts you see at the grocery store, hanging in their plastic cells like so many condemned men.  (Or, god forbid, the crust that comes in a refrigerated vacuum-packed cardboard tube.  Have you seen the ingredient list on those things?)

No, for a proper calzone, you need a good dough.  You can buy some very nice doughs from many gourmet groceries, or even from your favorite pizza joint if you ask nicely.  (I have heard a rumor that Domino’s dough makes a darn good pizza, when treated properly; but I am unable to verify or deny such a rumor.)  But if you have the time, you should definitely make your own dough.  I think it’s more fun, and it certainly tastes better than most anything you can have delivered.

This dough does take a while to make, but it could hardly be easier.   It’s one of those wet-dough, very hands-off recipes (assuming you have a mixer) that needs time and love, more than handling.  Easily, the most time-consuming part of this recipe is preparing any filings.  And speaking of fillings, we did this one up right.  We filled our calzone with turkey sausage, crumbled bacon, scallions, red onions, mozzarella, ricotta, and goat cheese.  So delicious!

If you prefer, you can of course make pizza with this dough instead; but this dough will easily stretch thin, which I like a little better in such an application.  Thick crust is one thing on a pizza, but when you’re essentially eating two pieces in one go, I like mine a little thinner.  This bread cooks up crusty and chewy, brown on the outside, but still soft and moist in the middle of the calzone (or pizza), like a proper crust should.  And the flavor from the sourdough starter just sets everything off perfectly, with a hint of tanginess.

One interesting thing I’ve learned about homemade pizza crust lately is that you should always use all-purpose flour.  True, pizza restaurants often use the higher-protein bread flour, but their ovens are far hotter (up to 1200° F!) than a typical home oven.  Without getting too technical on you, our home ovens just aren’t hot enough to cook the thin bread before the gluten becomes tough, when bread flour is used.  All-purpose flour, with its lower protein level, makes for a properly chewy texture, while not toughening too much.  Interesting!

Sourdough Calzones
Makes 4

1 1/2 cups warm water (105°F to 115°F)
1 envelope instant (rapid-rise) yeast (2 1/4 teaspoons)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
8 ounces (about 2 cups) white whole wheat flour
9 ounces (about 2 cups + 2 tablespoons) all purpose flour, divided, plus extra for rolling out dough
1 cup sourdough starter (see note 1 below)

1.  Pour 1 1/2 cups warm water into bowl of a stand mixer.  Mix the flours together.  Add 14 ounces (3 3/4 cups) of the flour mixture, and combine with the dough hook until all the flour is moistened and you have a shaggy dough.  Turn the mixer off, and without removing the dough hook, cover the bowl loosely with plastic wrap.  Let the dough rest for 15 to 20 minutes.

2.  Remove the plastic wrap, and add the yeast, oil, salt, remaining 3 ounces flour, and starter.  Mix on the lowest speed until all ingredients are combined.  If the dough looks very wet, add more flour by tablespoons only as needed.  Once desired consistency has been reached, continue mixing until dough has been kneaded for a total of 5 to 6 minutes.  Increase mixer speed to medium-low speed, and knead for 1 minute.  Turn dough out into a large lightly-oiled bowl.  Cover with plastic wrap.  Let rise in a warm place for 1 hour.

3.  After 1 hour, remove plastic wrap.  Slide a large spatula under one side of the dough, and gently fold it over the center.  Do the same for the opposite side (imagine you’re folding a letter into thirds).  Then, turn the bowl 90º, and fold the dough in half over itself (as though you’re folding the letter in half).  Cover bowl with plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled, about another 45 minutes or so.

4.  Position 1 rack in top third and 1 rack in bottom third of oven and preheat to 500°F. Dust 2 large baking sheets with flour.

5.  Scrape dough out of bowl onto a well-floured surface.  Divide dough into 4 sections, covering the pieces not being used.  Depending on the consistency of your dough, you may or may not be able to roll these crusts out.  If you can, form dough into balls, and roll each out on lightly floured surface to a 9 inch circle.  If your dough is too loose and sticky to roll, simply press and stretch each piece into a rough 9 inch circle.  Either way is fine.  Carefully transfer dough rounds onto prepared baking sheets.

6.  Spread desired toppings over half of each round, leaving 3/4-inch border. Fold plain dough halves over filling, forming half circles. Fold and pinch edges of dough firmly together to seal.  Pierce tops in a few places with a small knife, to release steam.

7.  Bake calzones 15 minutes, or until well-browned.  Let cool slightly before cutting and serving.

Notes:
1.  For the sourdough starter, I used this recipe.  But if you have one of your own already, absolutely use that.  Just be sure to adjust the amount of flour you add, depending on the moisture level of your starter (mine was very liquidy).

2.  You can obviously use whatever toppings you like, but just make sure things such as bacon, sausage, etc. are fully cooked.

Week Twelve: Pre-Fermented Breads

The last bread on the schedule for this week takes the longest to make of any bread I’ve discussed so far.  It’s a reasonably authentic French pain de campagne, or, literally, “country bread”.  Pain de campagne is basically what the people of France made for centuries, far more so than any other type of bread.  (Did you know the baguette wasn’t really invented until the early 1900’s?  Seriously!)

Pain de campagne has an American cousin, called sourdough.  Perhaps you’ve heard of it.  Sourdough, however, has a far tangier flavor, whereas the flavor of pain de campagne is more subdued; it tends to have more of a tangy finish, rather than a blast of sour flavor from the moment it hits your tongue, like American sourdough does.

The one thing these two bread have in common, though, is the yeast.  Wait, what?  Don’t all yeasted breads have yeast in common?  Well, true sourdough breads like these don’t use common baker’s yeast (i.e, anything you can buy in the store, in any form); rather, they rely on airborne yeast, which is a different strain than what’s sold in those foil packets.  This yeast is captured by means of the starter, in this case a simple mixture of only flour and water.

Incidentally, the yeast that ends up leavening your bread isn’t just found floating around in the air, it’s pretty much everywhere: on the counter, in your bowl (unless you’ve just bleached it), and most importantly, in the water and flour itself.  When you mix the flour and water, (long story short) you’re creating an environment that is ideal for those little yeasts to multiply and grow, which is a good thing.  But since there are so few of them, compared to how many you can just dump in when using baker’s yeast, it takes a much longer time for them to create a big enough population to raise a loaf of bread.  That’s why you need to let true sourdough starters sit out for days on end.

Look, ma! Airborne yeast!

So why even bother, you may be asking? Sure, people used to have to cultivate their own yeast like that, but we’ve advanced since then!  If we can just add all the store-bought yeast we need, why would we go through all the trouble to catch our own out of thin air?  Well, remember that store-bought yeast is a different strain than the kind we’re working with here.  That airborne yeast doesn’t like being packaged up in foil very much, but it sure does produce some tasty flavors.  Additionally, the kinds of acid this yeast produces do a much better job of keeping bread moist and fresh, and make the finished bread more resistant to mold and bacteria.  You can keep a loaf of true sourdough sitting out, uncut, for days before anything happens to it.  A baguette, for comparison, will be dry and unpalatable within a day.

In the case of the pain de campagne recipe below, the starter is technically known as a chef or levain.  This means that when you mix the final dough together, you don’t add any additional yeast.  All of it comes from the starter.  Your finished loaf, therefore, will be fairly resistant to just about anything that comes at it from the air.  Historically, this was extremely important to people who had no refrigeration, and also no oven. You see, before people had ovens in their homes, they had to use one big community oven.  The longer they could go without having to run some dough down to the oven, the more convenient it was.  So the bigger the loaf, the better, and the longer it kept, the better.  Fortunately for them, large loaves of bread have (for various technical reasons) much better texture and keeping abilities than do smaller loaves.

I have to say, while this bread is a bit of work (mostly hands-off, however), if you can stand to wait those four or five days it takes, your efforts will be well-rewarded.  Previously, before starting this project, I had rather shrugged off such “investment breads” in lieu of more rapid, if not instant, gratification.  How much better could it possibly be?

Plenty!  I thought I knew a thing or two about making a very good bread, but this one pretty much takes the cake.  I think my hydration levels need some tweaking, and the handling of the dough certainly wasn’t perfect (see note 3 below), but I nonetheless ended up with possibly the best crumb I’ve ever achieved in a bread.  So many lovely, large holes in it!  And a chewy texture I’ve only come close to before!  Seriously, if you like a good, toothsome, artisan bread, try this for yourself!  Give yourself the four or five days needed, and give it a whirl.  You’ve got nothing to lose, and much to gain.  Even if it doesn’t come out bang-on perfect, you’ve still learned what to do next time, right?  Plus, you only have to make the starter the first time.  So go on!  Make some sourdough!

Pain de Campagne
Adapted from Bread by Christine Ingram and Jennie Shapter
Makes 1 large loaf 

For the starter:
2 ounces (about 1/2 cup) whole-wheat flour
3 tablespoons warm filtered or spring water

For the first refreshment:
3 ounces (about 3/4 cup) whole-wheat flour
4 tablespoons warm filtered or spring water

For the second refreshment:
4 ounces (1 scant cup) unbleached white bread flour
1 ounce (about 1/4 cup) whole-wheat flour
1/2 cup warm filtered or spring water 

For the dough:
3/4 cup warm filtered or spring water
12 ounces (about 3 cups) unbleached white bread flour
2 teaspoons salt

1.  To make the starter, place the flour in a small bowl, add the water, and knead until a smooth dough is formed, about 3 minutes.  Cover with plastic wrap and leave in a warm place for 2 days.

2.  For the first refreshment, pull any hardened crust off of the starter, and remove 2 tablespoons of the soft interior.  Discard the remainder.  Place the starter in a large bowl and gradually mix in the water (4 tablespoons).  Some lumps may remain; this is fine.  Gradually mix in the flour (3/4 cup whole-wheat) and knead to form a smooth dough, about 3 minutes.  Cover with plastic wrap and leave in a warm spot for 1 day.

3.  For the second refreshment, pull any crust from the starter and discard.  Gradually mix in the water (1/2 cup), then gradually mix in the two flours (4 oz bread + 1 oz whole-wheat) a little at a time, until a firm dough is formed.  Cover with plastic wrap and leave in a warm place for at least 10 hours.

4.  For the final dough, add the flour (12 oz bread) and the water (3/4 cup) into the bowl of a stand mixer.  Mix with the dough hook until a rough dough is formed, about 3 minutes.  Turn the mixer off, and without removing the dough hook, cover the bowl loosely with plastic wrap, and let rest for the autolyse for 15 to 20 minutes.

5.  After the autolyse, add the starter to the bowl, along with the salt.  Mix on low speed for 5-7 minutes, adding flour a tablespoon at a time only if needed (if the dough is sticking to the sides).  The dough should form a cohesive mass, but stick to the bottom of the bowl.  Stop the mixer and scrape the bowl if necessary.  After five minutes, increase the speed to the next-lowest level, and knead for 1 minute.

6.  Remove the dough to a large, lightly-oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until doubled in bulk.  (If needed, dough can be put in fridge and left to rise overnight at this point.  Bring to room temperature before proceeding, and make sure dough is doubled in size.)

7.  Punch down the dough, and cut off about 4 ounces, or 1/2 cup, of dough, to reserve for the next loaf (see note #2 below).

8.  Line a shallow bowl (about 4 inches high by 9 inches wide) with a kitchen towel (not terry cloth), and dust very heavily with flour (when in doubt, use more).  Scrape the dough into the prepared bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until almost doubled in bulk, about 2 to 3 hours.  Preheat the oven to 500º F.

9.  Remove the plastic wrap from the dough, and sprinkle the dough liberally with cornmeal.  Cover the top of the bowl with a piece of parchment paper, and invert a sheet pan on top of that.  Pressing the sheet pan and the bowl firmly together, slowly invert everything.  The dough should gently fall onto the parchment.  Remove the bowl, and gently peel off the cloth.  If the dough sticks to the cloth, use the backside of a knife to carefully scrape it off.

10.  Dust the loaf with flour, and using a serrated knife, make 4 quick cuts in the top of the dough, at right angles, to form a square pattern.  Spray the dough with water, and bake for 5 minutes.  Quickly spray the loaf again, and bake an additional 5 minutes.  Quickly spray the loaf a third time, then reduce the temperature to 425º F.  Bake an additional 15 to 20 minutes, or until well-browned and sounding hollow when tapped on the bottom.  Or, more accurately, bake until an instant-read thermometer reads 205º - 210º F when inserted into the middle.  Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely before cutting.

Notes:
1.  You will need to start making this at least 4 days before you plan on eating it: 2 days for the starter, 1 day for the first refreshment, 10-24 hours for the second refreshment, and finally 5 to 6 hours for the day of baking.

2.  To make another loaf using the reserved piece of dough (see step 7 above), keep the piece of reserved dough in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.  Use this as the starter dough, starting with the second refreshment in step 3 above.  Continue as directed.

3.  In step 8, I warn you to use as much flour as you think you need in coating the cloth, and then use some more.  My dough was fairly wet in consistency, and therefore absorbed most of the (generous dusting of) flour used in dusting the cloth.  I spent about 4 or 5 minutes scraping dough off of my cloth after inverting it, deflating the dough the whole time, and it spread out very flat.  In a perfect world, I would’ve let it sit until it had risen a bit again; but that might have taken another hour, so I just went ahead and baked it off.  The texture was still very amazing, so I can only imagine what it might have been like done properly.

Week Twelve: Pre-Fermented Breads

Today’s the day I get to brag.  Today’s the day I get to proudly run to the Internets, hold up my work like a happy first-grader, and shout, “Look what I did!”  You see, today I get to talk about the First Bread I Ever Made Without A Recipe.  Oh yeah!

I was flying solo on this one, people.  No cookbooks, no internet, just my own expertise (such as it is).  Here’s the story: back when I made pizza crust, I invited some friends over for dinner to help me eat it.  I was expecting five people, but one person dropped out at the last minute, after I had already divided the dough up.  Rather than toss the dough out (unthinkable!), I hastily stashed it in a ziploc bag, and put it in the refrigerator.  To do what with?  I wasn’t sure, but one smallish portion of pizza dough wasn’t really going to go far in the usual dinner preparations for two.

I had some recollection that one could use old bits of dough in new bread for better flavor, but I hadn’t really studied it recently as such.  I knew, though, from my repeated making of G’Bread over the last few years that something about the same consistency could be used as a starter.  So a couple of days later, when the poor little bit of pizza dough had started to bubble up in its plastic home, I decided to just have a go at it.  How much could I possibly screw it up?  If it didn’t work out, no harm, no foul; if it did, then I could write about it later.  Win!

Using the method I recalled from G’Bread, but firmly refusing to even glance at the recipe for help, I began by combining fresh flour and water in my mixer.  Knowing that I had 4 ounces of leftover pizza dough, I started with 12 ounces total of flour.  It added up to a pound total, which seemed like a fine place to start, if a little arbitrary.  I mixed in the yeast and enough water so that it looked about right (measuring the whole time!), and then gave it a little 15 minute autolyse (or, catnap).  I then added the pizza dough and salt, and mixed until it looked right.  From then, I just followed the technique I remembered.

It rose properly, it looked right, and when I finally baked it off, I knew I had done things right.  It came out so well!  It was nicely browned on the outside, soft and flavorful inside, airy, well-crusted; in short, a darn good bread!  I had finally done it - I had made my very own bread, that no one else could claim!  Was this the pinnacle of my baking career?  Okay, perhaps not, but it was definitely a high point.  I was so proud!  I mean, do you see those lovely holes in the crumb?  Awesome!

The technique of using a piece of old dough to improve the texture and flavor of a newly-made dough is nearly as ancient as breadmaking itself.  Though I did come up with this recipe (as such) on my own, I am certainly not claiming to have thought up the technique.  It is one of the very well established methods of using a pre-ferment, and you can use any sort of dough you care to.  Generally speaking, though, an old dough will incorporate best into a new dough of a similar or firmer consistency.

I suppose the moral of this story is not to toot my own horn, but rather to show that breadmaking need not depend on a quality recipe.  It’s more about technique, learning what a proper bread should look like at all stages, instead of dogmatically following a recipe that may or may not be appropriate for your circumstances, or may even be written with mistakes.  If you can learn a few visual cues, and some basic timing, you too can absolutely make your very own recipe-less bread.  Don’t be scared; I know you can do it!

Made-Up Bread
Makes 1 loaf

4 ounces of this dough (about 1/5 of the recipe)
8 ounces bread flour (about 2 cup)
3 ounces whole-wheat flour (about 1/3 cup)
1/4 teaspoon active-dry yeast
1 1/2 cups room temperature water
1 teaspoon salt

1.  Let old dough sit in the refrigerator for at least two days, to develop the flavor.

2.  Remove old dough from fridge and let sit at room temperature while you make the rest of the dough.  Mix flours and yeast together.  Combine in the bowl of a stand mixer with the water, and mix with the dough hook until a rough dough forms.  Adjust levels of flour or water if necessary; it should look a little lumpy and kind of rough around the edges, but all the flour should be moistened.  Turn mixer off, and without removing dough hook, cover bowl loosely with plastic wrap, and let sit 20 minutes.

3.  Remove plastic wrap, add old dough and salt to the mixture, and continue to mix on lowest speed until all the ingredients are incorporated and a dough is formed (the dough should clear the sides of the bowl but stick to very bottom), about 4 minutes.  Increase speed to low and continue to knead until dough forms a more cohesive ball, about 1 minute.  Transfer dough to large bowl (at least 3 times dough’s size) and cover tightly with plastic wrap.  Let dough rise in cool, draft-free spot away from direct sunlight, until slightly risen and puffy, about 1 hour.

3.  Remove plastic wrap and, using a broad nonstick spatula, fold the dough over itself, as though you were folding a letter: 1/3 over the center, then the opposite 1/3 over that.  Lastly, fold dough in half again, perpendicular to the first folds (like you’re folding the letter in half).  Dough should end up being roughly a square.

4.  Replace plastic wrap, let dough rise 1 hour.  Turn dough again, following above procedure, then replace plastic wrap and let dough rise 1 hour more.

5.  Dust work surface liberally with flour.  Gently scrape and invert dough out of bowl onto work surface (side of dough that was against bowl should now be facing up).  Dust dough and hands liberally with flour, and using minimal pressure, push dough into rough 8 by 10 inch square.  Gently roll up dough, using long edge, and pressing seam to seal as you roll.  Tansfer dough to a large sheet of parchment paper.  Dust loaf liberally with flour and cover loosely with plastic wrap; let loaf rise until doubled in size, about 1 hour more.  Meanwhile, adjust oven rack to lower-middle position, place baking stone on rack, and heat oven to 500º F.

6.  Using a sharp serrated knife, cut a slit 1/2-inch deep lengthwise along top of loaf.  Spray loaf lightly with water.  Slide parchment sheet with loaf onto baker’s peel or upside-down baking sheet, then slide parchment with loaf onto hot baking stone in oven.  Bake 10 minutes, then reduce oven temperature to 400º F, and quickly spin loaf around.  Continue to bake until deep golden brown, and a thermometer inserted into center of loaf reads 210º F, about 35 minutes longer.  Transfer to rack, discard parchment, and cool loaf to room temperature, about 2 hours.

Notes:
1.  I like the slightly rustic flavor given by the whole-wheat flour, but you can certainly use all white flour if you like.

2.  I’ve written the recipe exactly as I made it, but things might obviously be a little different for you.  Depending on how wet your old dough is, you will have to add a little more or a little less flour to the new dough.  But for the rustic, ciabatta-style bread I was aiming for, I kept the consistency fairly loose.  Certainly, if you’re looking for a more sandwich-bread-style loaf, you can increase the amount of flour (or decrease the amount of water).  It’s up to you!