The Overnight Ferment Method

Week Twenty-Six: Same Dough, Different Method

overnight-ferment

Today’s method variation involves a long, slow, cold ferment of the dough.  Maybe you think that sounds like we’re doing something ugly to the dough, turning it into dough sauerkraut, or something; but the term “ferment” is one of the 12 basic steps in yeast bread making (explained here).  In layman’s terms, it’s the first rise, or the resting period after you knead  the dough and before you shape it.

Technically speaking, fermentation is the process of carbohydrates converting to alcohol and/or acid, by the action of a microorganism.  In bread dough, the yeast is the initiator of this activity, and acts on the flour and any sugar present, turning them into alcohol and carbon dioxide (and a few important acids too, for good measure).  And since we’re getting technical here, the processes going on in the dough at this point are the same as when you make yogurt, kimchi, beer, wine, cheese, and yes, sauerkraut.  So the idea of “dough sauerkraut” isn’t actually that outlandish (except that the two foods are completely different)!  Interesting side note: the study of fermentation is called zymurgy, and there is a beer homebrewing magazine called Zymurgy.  Neat!

But in breadmaking, other important things occur during fermentation.  For one, the gluten you’ve just formed in kneading starts to relax, while at the same time continuing to form.  How does that happen – relaxing and forming?  Well, gluten is like a really uptight rubber band.  Be rough with it (i.e, knead it), and it gets all tense and persnickity, and toughens up.  But if you leave it alone, it calms down and relaxes.  Remember what’s happening right now, though: the yeast is producing gases.  The network of gluten traps those gases, and slowly gets stretched – like a rubber band.  That’s why you need gluten in your bread; without it, those gases would just escape.

Another important thing that happens during fermentation deals with those aforementioned acids that the yeast gives off, lactic and acetic acids, most importantly.  Those two are important dough conditioners, or things that make your bread taste better and keep longer.  The longer the fermentation, the more time the acids have to act on the dough.  Therefore, many experts have determined that for the best possible bread, a long and slow fermentation is best.  This often means using less yeast (which will take a longer time to rise the dough), but it can also mean lowering the temperature at which the dough is fermented (which slows the yeast activity, preventing an over-risen dough).

My experiment for today was to see what would happen to the texture and flavor of the bread when fermented overnight in the refrigerator.  It’s a trick I use fairly often; for example, when I’ve started a bread, and suddenly need to run an errand, or plans change, or any number of similar changes to the schedule.  And to the best of my knowledge, the bread has not suffered as a result; it always seems to end up okay.  But I’ve never actually done a side-by-side comparison to see if I’m just fooling myself, so now’s the time!

I did deviate from the standard straight-dough method in one other way than only the refrigerated fermentation: I used an autolyse for this bread as well.  Ideally, I guess I shouldn’t have, but somebody’s going to eat this bread, and I’d rather it taste as good as possible.  I know for a fact that an autolyse period makes a better bread; why wouldn’t I use it here?

To critique, the finished loaf looked suspiciously like the previous two loaves: a pretty golden brown crust that crackled and broke into tiny shards when cut, soft airy interior, evenly-spaced holes, blah, blah, blah.  And honestly, it tasted very much like the autolyse bread from yesterday.  I don’t know that there was a whole lot of difference between the two.  It’s still much better than the straight dough bread, I can say that much.  The complex depth of flavors from the autolyse were definitely there, and the texture was nearly identical.

So, to sum up, if you need the extra time, don’t be afraid to stick you bowl of just-kneaded dough in the fridge for any length of time, up to about a day.  As long as you let it come back to room temperature before shaping it, you should have no problems with it affecting taste or texture – and heck, it might even help, if you don’t use an autolyse period.  Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.*

 

The Overnight Ferment Method
Makes 1 big loaf

19 ounces (about 4 cups) unbleached bread flour
1 1/2 teaspoons instant yeast (see note 1 below)
1 1/2 cups hot water (115º to 130º F)
1 teaspoon kosher salt

1.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together all but a handful of the flour and all the yeast.  Add the water and mix with the dough hook at low speed until a rough dough forms, about 1 minute.  Turn the mixer off, and without removing the bowl or the hook, cover the bowl loosely with plastic wrap.  Let stand for at least 15 to 20 minutes, or up to 45 minutes.

2.  Remove the plastic wrap, and add the salt.  Continue kneading the dough, at medium-low speed.  Knead for 6 to 8 minutes, or until the dough forms a cohesive ball that clears the sides of the bowl, and becomes elastic.  If the dough does not clear the sides of the bowl, add the reserved flour until the proper consistency is achieved.  The dough should not be stiff.

3.  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and knead a few times, forming the dough into a round ball with a skin stretching over the outside.  Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl, smooth side up.  Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight, or for about 8 hours.

4.  Let the dough stand at room temperature for 45 minutes to 1 hour before proceeding.  Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.  Gently deflate the dough, and turn out onto a lightly floured surface.  Flatten the dough into a slight rectangle or oval shape.  Fold the two corners furthest away from you into the center of the dough, as though you were beginning to fold a paper airplane.  Starting with that point, roll the dough up into a cylinder, pressing gently to seal as you roll.  Press the final seam to seal.  Transfer the dough to the prepared baking sheet, seam-side down.  Tuck the ends under if desired, to make a more attractive loaf.  Cover loosely with lightly-oiled plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled in size, about 1 hour.  Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 425º F, and place another baking sheet or oven-safe pan in the bottom of the oven.  If you have a baking stone, heat it with the oven.  If not, your baking sheet is fine.

5.  When fully risen, and using a sharp serrated knife or clean razor blade, make three decisive slashes in the top of the loaf at a 45º angle, evenly spaced.  Transfer the bread to the oven (or baking stone, if using).  Immediately throw 4 or 5 ice cubes into the hot pan on the oven floor.  Bake for 10 minutes, adding additional ice cubes as they melt.

6.  After 10 minutes, remove the ice-cube-pan from the oven, and bake the loaf for an additional 15 to 25 minutes, or until deeply golden brown.  Remove the bread to a wire rack to cool before slicing.

 

Notes:
1.  If using active-dry yeast, your water should be a bit cooler, around 105º F to 115º F.  Instead of mixing the active-dry yeast into the flour, you should dissolve all of it in a little of the warm water, in the mixing bowl.  Let stand for about 5 minutes, or until foamy.  Add the flour and salt, and proceed as directed.

 

* – ‘Cause knowledge is power!

Posted in Savory, Yeast Breads | 6 Comments

The Autolyse Method

Week Twenty-Six: Same Dough, Different Method

autolyse

Yesterday, I introduced this week’s variations with the most basic method of bread making: the straight dough method.  Today, I’m going to discuss the easiest, fastest way to improve the flavor of any bread, or, the autolyse [awe-toh-lees] method.  This is the fancy term for “mix only your flour and water together, and let it sit for twenty minutes before adding salt and yeast, and kneading”.  No, I’m not being glib; it’s really that simple.

Let me explain what exactly “autolyse” means.  Etymologically speaking, it’s the French word for the biological term “autolysis”, which is from the Greek words meaning “self” and “splitting”.  Huh?  What’s that got to do with bread?

Well, autolysis refers to the destruction of a cell by its own enzymes, or “self-splitting”.  In baking, this means that enzymes in flour (amylase and protease, if you really want to know) begin to break down the starch and protein in the flour.  The starch gets converted to sugar, and the protein gets reformed as gluten.

Why would you want to do this?  When you knead the dough, aren’t you just trying to do the same thing – form gluten?  Well, yes, ultimately; but when you knead dough, you also oxidize it (expose it to oxygen).  Over-oxidized (or, over-kneaded) dough results in color and flavor loss in a finished bread, which means it’s pale and tasteless.  By giving the mixed flour and water time to go through autolysis on their own, you achieve the same result, but without any of the unpleasant effects of oxidation.  Additionally, an autolyse period gives the flour time to soak up all the moisture, resulting in more orderly gluten formation (um, long story short).

What this all means for your bread is that your dough will be easier to handle before it’s baked, and the end product will taste better, have better texture, look better, and have better keeping qualities.  What’s not to love?

This technique was developed and refined by Raymond Calvel, author of the seminal Le goût du pain (The Taste of Bread), and bread guru to Julia Child.  Supposedly a chemist by training, he essentially did for European breadmaking what Alice Waters did for American cooking (if I may get a little food-geeky on you; and if you don’t know who Alice Waters is, now’s a good time to learn).

Okay, technicalities out of the way, how do you do it?  You’ll be happy to know that it’s so, so easy!  All you have to do is mix your flour and water together (no yeast, and never any salt!) until the flour is all moistened, cover it, and just step away.  Go for a walk, wash the dishes, weed your garden, tidy up the house, weave a basket, walk a tightrope, whatever you do to pass twenty minutes.  When you come back, add the salt and yeast, and continue kneading.  Everything else can proceed as in the straight dough method.  Yes, it’s just that simple.  Seriously.

I really can’t think of another way to get so much flavor out of your basic ingredients with so little effort.  I mean, we’re adding on 15 or 20 minutes to a 3 or 4 hour process; that’s nothing!  And when I tell you the difference is noticeable, you should trust me.  I compared a slice of this autolyse bread with yesterday’s straight dough bread, and the difference was pretty amazing.  I even made my editor and sous chef take a blind taste-test; and he was able to easily discern which was which, knowing what autolyse is meant to accomplish.

The straight dough bread was good, but tasted a bit flat in comparison.  The autolyse bread simply had a much more complex range of flavors, and a depth that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.  It’s a bit like the difference between dried pasta and fresh pasta – you can’t quite explain why, but you know one just tastes better than the other.  The texture wasn’t vastly different between the two breads – both were nicely soft inside, with evenly-distributed air pockets, and a pleasantly crispy crust outside; maybe the autolyse bread was the tiniest bit softer? – but once you bit into a piece, it was pretty obvious which one was the winner (it was the autolyse bread).

One last thing – I know I said that autolyse involves mixing only the flour and water together, and ideally that’s how you want to do it.  But in this recipe, I’ve instructed you to add the yeast as well, pre-autolyse.  See, salt is not only a protease inhibitor (um, it gets in the way of your autolyse), it’s also a yeast inhibitor (it kill ’em dead!).  If salt touches your yeast, it’s all over for the poor little guys.  By mixing the yeast into the flour and water, you avoid any accidental yeast extermination that might occur when adding tiny salt and yeast particles at the same time to a big ol’ lump of dough, post-autolyse.  Besides, this way, the yeast can start to activate and produce all those lovely little acetic and lactic acids that also help make your bread better.  Perhaps Chef Calvel would disapprove of my method; but I feel this is the least of all evils, and the easiest way to ensure success for all.  I think maybe he would approve of that!

The Autolyse Method
Makes 1 big loaf

19 ounces (about 4 cups) unbleached bread flour
1 1/2 teaspoons instant yeast (see note 1 below)
1 1/2 cups hot water (115º to 130º F)
1 teaspoon kosher salt

1.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together all but a handful of the flour and all the yeast.  Add the water and mix with the dough hook at low speed until a rough dough forms, about 1 minute.  Turn the mixer off, and without removing the bowl or the hook, cover the bowl loosely with plastic wrap.  Let stand for at least 15 to 20 minutes, or up to 45 minutes.

2.  Remove the plastic wrap, and add the salt.  Continue kneading the dough, at medium-low speed.  Knead for 6 to 8 minutes, or until the dough forms a cohesive ball that clears the sides of the bowl, and becomes elastic.  If the dough does not clear the sides of the bowl, add the reserved flour until the proper consistency is achieved.  The dough should not be stiff.

3.  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and knead a few times, forming the dough into a round ball with a skin stretching over the outside.  Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl, smooth side up.  Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 1 hour.

4.  Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.  Gently deflate the dough, and turn out onto a lightly floured surface.  Flatten the dough into a slight rectangle or oval shape.  Fold the two corners furthest away from you into the center of the dough, as though you were beginning to fold a paper airplane.  Starting with that point, roll the dough up into a cylinder, pressing gently to seal as you roll.  Press the final seam to seal.  Transfer the dough to the prepared baking sheet, seam-side down.  Tuck the ends under if desired, to make a more attractive loaf.  Cover loosely with lightly-oiled plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled in size, about 1 hour.  Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 425º F, and place another baking sheet or oven-safe pan in the bottom of the oven.  If you have a baking stone, heat it with the oven.  If not, your baking sheet is fine.

5.  When fully risen, and using a sharp serrated knife or clean razor blade, make three decisive slashes in the top of the loaf at a 45º angle, evenly spaced.  Transfer the bread to the oven (or baking stone, if using).  Immediately throw 4 or 5 ice cubes into the hot pan on the oven floor.  Bake for 10 minutes, adding additional ice cubes as they melt.

6.  After 10 minutes, remove the ice-cube-pan from the oven, and bake the loaf for an additional 15 to 25 minutes, or until deeply golden brown.  Remove the bread to a wire rack to cool before slicing.

 

Notes:
1.  If using active-dry yeast, your water should be a bit cooler, around 105º F to 115º F.  Instead of mixing the active-dry yeast into the flour, you should dissolve all of it in a little of the warm water, in the mixing bowl.  Let stand for about 5 minutes, or until foamy.  Add the flour and salt, and proceed as directed.

2.  Autolyse can be used in any bread recipe, no matter the ingredients – even if there’s salt, milk, cocoa, oil, egg, butter, anything in your dough.  There’s a whole lot going on during the autolyse process, and every little bit helps!

Posted in Savory, Yeast Breads | 13 Comments

The Straight Dough Method

Week Twenty-Six: Same Dough, Different Method

 straight-dough

Okay, I’ll admit it.  Not like it was such a secret, but I am such a kitchen dork, you guys!  I could list examples to prove my point, but I’m sure it’s a bit obvious already – there has to be a certain level of geekery to attempt a project like this one.  But my point is that I enjoyed last week’s variations on beer bread so much that I’m doing another round of variations on a theme this week.  Awesome!

Last week, I featured variations on a particular recipe, but using the same method (with the exception of the yeasted version) for each.  This week, I’m making six different breads, all from the same dough, but treated differently through various ways of mixing and rising.  And whereas last week’s breads were (mostly) chemically-leavened quickbreads, this week, it’s all about the yeast.

What I’m trying to figure out, this week, is how the exact same ingredients end up when handled differently.  I mean, we’ve all heard that using a sourdough starter makes for a better bread, right?  Well, how much better?  Does a 20 minute autolyse actually make your bread taste more complex?  Sure, I’ve read the books, studied the masters, made a few loaves in my time, and all that jazz; but it turns out I’m a bit of a Doubting Thomas.  Darnit, I need to taste the difference myself!

The ingredient list for this dough is intentionally simple, just flour, water, salt, and yeast.  There’s no sugar to help the yeast, no milk for a bit of flavor, no oil for softness.  No, I want the real flavors to shine through.  It’s not about perfection this week, it’s about tasting subtle shifts in flavor, and watching for differences in texture.  This dough is fairly wet, so if you’ve got a stand mixer, use it.  If not, you can make these breads by hand, but just be careful about how much flour you add while kneading.

The first bread for this week is about as simple as it gets; today, I’m using the straight dough method.  What this means is that you mix all your ingredients together at the same time, immediately knead the dough until the gluten is properly formed, let it rise until doubled, shape it, let it double in size again, and bake it.  Nothing special, other than the use of the aforementioned wet dough.  I’ve found, this year, that the wetter the dough, the better the bread.  My loaves might end up squatter than many, but the texture inside is beautifully airy (if I do say so myself)!  Better that than end up with a dense, dry bread (like I was making at the beginning of this year, if I’m honest).

Just to keep everything on an even keel, I’m going to be shaping these breads all the same way, in a fat oval, with three slashes just before baking.  All of these will be baked with steam; and if you’re not familiar with steam baking methods, Baking 911 has all the usual suspects towards the bottom of that page.  Also, since I have a baking stone, I’ll be using it.  If you don’t have one, you can make one with unglazed tiles or quarry stone, or simply use an upside-down baking sheet preheated with the oven, or the oven floor itself.  This will produce the most crisp crust, but if you can’t be bothered, you can just bake the bread on a baking sheet, which is fine too.

So, to critique the straight dough bread: pretty good.  The dough rose nicely, felt properly soft and elastic, and baked into a pretty loaf with a nicely crisp crust.  The color was a lovely golden brown, and the interior was evenly punctuated with air holes.  The flavor was fairly standard white bread, but nothing too interesting, however.  I wouldn’t turn it down, but I wouldn’t call it fabulous.  Overall grade: A-.

Stay tuned tomorrow, when I explore the mysteries of the autolyse!  Same bread time, same bread channel!

straight-dough-2

 

The Straight Dough Method
Makes 1 big loaf

19 ounces (about 4 cups) unbleached bread flour
1 1/2 teaspoons instant yeast (see note 1 below)
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 1/2 cups hot water (115º to 130º F)

1.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together all but a handful of the flour and the yeast.  Whisk in the salt.  Add the water and mix with the dough hook at low speed until a rough dough forms.  Scrape the bowl if needed, and increase the speed to medium-low and knead for 6 to 8 minutes, or until the dough forms a cohesive ball that clears the sides of the bowl, and becomes elastic.  If the dough does not clear the sides of the bowl, add the reserved flour until the proper consistency is achieved.  The dough should not be stiff.

2.  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and knead a few times, forming the dough into a round ball with a skin stretching over the outside.  Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl, smooth side up.  Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 1 hour.

3.  Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.  Gently deflate the dough, and turn out onto a lightly floured surface.  Flatten the dough into a slight rectangle or oval shape.  Fold the two corners furthest away from you into the center of the dough, as though you were beginning to fold a paper airplane.  Starting with that point, roll the dough up into a cylinder, pressing gently to seal as you roll.  Press the final seam to seal.  Transfer the dough to the prepared baking sheet, seam-side down.  Tuck the ends under if desired, to make a more attractive loaf.  Cover loosely with lightly-oiled plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled in size, about 1 hour.  Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 425º F, and place another baking sheet or oven-safe pan in the bottom of the oven.  If you have a baking stone, heat it with the oven.  If not, your baking sheet is fine.

4.  When fully risen, and using a sharp serrated knife or clean razor blade, make three decisive slashes in the top of the loaf at a 45º angle, evenly spaced.  Transfer the bread to the oven (or baking stone, if using).  Immediately throw 4 or 5 ice cubes into the hot pan on the oven floor.  Bake for 10 minutes, adding additional ice cubes as they melt.

5.  After 10 minutes, remove the ice-cube-pan from the oven, and bake the loaf for an additional 15 to 25 minutes, or until deeply golden brown.  Remove the bread to a wire rack to cool before slicing. 

 

Notes:
1.  If using active-dry yeast, your water should be a bit cooler, around 105º F to 115º F.  Instead of mixing the active-dry yeast into the flour, you should dissolve all of it in a little of the warm water, in the mixing bowl.  Let stand for about 5 minutes, or until foamy.  Add the flour and salt, and proceed as directed.

Posted in Savory, Yeast Breads | 5 Comments

Champagne Bread

Week Twenty-Five: Beer Bread Week!

For my final beer bread variation this week, I wanted to test a hypothesis.  As you may have read yesterday, I determined that the main thing that makes beer bread so magically delicious is the beer, mainly because of the malt it contains.  But like any good hypothesis, this too must stand up to the rigors of experimentation.  To the kitchen!

Having already experimented to failure with a non-alcoholic fizzy drink, root beer, I wanted to try this bread with a non-beer fizzy alcoholic drink.  And in that category, I can think of pretty much one thing: champagne.

[Allow me to make a quick distinction.  In the parlance of our times, the word “champagne” is commonly used to refer to any sparkling white wine.  Legally speaking, however, the term is restricted to those wines grown in the Champagne region of France.  And no, it doesn’t matter if you use the lowercase or the uppercase “c” in the spelling; it’s still a restricted term.   I use the word here because it’s immediately clear what I’m talking about, and the word “champagne” is less unwieldy than “sparkling white wine”.  I’m just writing a blog; I’m not going to start bottling wine and slapping the word on the label.  I figure I’m therefore safe from the EU’s lawyers.  Moving on.]

The idea I’m testing out here is this: how important is the malt from the beer in beer bread?  Having failed (in my opinion) with the use of root beer, is it really so important to use beer itself?  What happens when you use an alcoholic beverage that doesn’t contain malt, like champagne?

To make a long story short, it’s better to use the beer.  To make a short story long, it’s better most likely because of the malt.  The difference between champagne bread and beer bread is most akin to the difference between a straight dough yeast bread and an autolysed dough yeast bread.  You’re familiar with those terms, right?  No?  All right, sit back.

The “straight dough” method in breadmaking is when you mix all your ingredients together at once, make a dough, and proceed to knead it, let it rise, shape it, rise, bake, etc.  It’s the fastest way to make a yeast bread, but unfortunately doesn’t bring a whole lot of complex flavor to the party.  But if, after mixing your flour and water together briefly (sometimes the yeast too, but never the salt), you give the rough mixture a 15 or 20 minute cat nap (this is the autolyse!), you develop all sorts of complex flavors that make your bread just thaaaat much better.  The reasons for this are awfully technical, but here’s a rudimentary explanation.  And yes, you can do this with any yeast bread recipe.  It’s the easiest way to take your bread to the next level.

But what it means in the end is that your bread quite simply tastes better.  There’s no other way to say it.  And that, Gentle Reader, is why you should use a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in this bread, and save the champagne for yourself.  I know, it sounds So Much More Romantic! to use champagne, but trust me.  You’ll never be able to tell the difference as far as flavor differences between the liquids go, but you sure will catch those very subtle flavors from the malt in the beer.  Without them, this bread just tastes (ahem) flat.

Just so you all know, this has been a really fun week!  I’ve often wondered about many of these ideas that I’ve been testing out these last few days, and it’s been pretty cool to test them out (yes, I am such a baking geek).  Some questions remain – what if you used a wine spritzer? what about plain sparkling water with malt powder? – but I think my beer bread curiosity has been fairly well sated for the time being.  At the end of it all, I’ve found that sometimes, you just shouldn’t mess with perfection.  Original beer bread is a winner, although whole wheat beer bread comes in a pretty close second place.  I guess the moral of the story is, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.  But it sure is fun to experiment!

Champagne Bread
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

3 cups + 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly
12 ounces champagne, at room temperature (see note 3 below)

1.  Preheat oven to 350º F.  Lightly grease a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan, and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour.  Shake the flour around until the whole interior is coated, then knock out the excess.

2.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder, salt, and sugar.  Add the butter and champagne, and stir with a spoon or spatula until moist and just combined.  Pour into prepared loaf pan.

3.  Bake at 350º F for 40 to 45 minutes, or until golden brown on top.  Remove from pan.  Cool at least 10 minutes on a rack before slicing.

Notes:
1.  After the bread is baked, loosen the edges with a knife if needed, and gently knock the edge of the pan on the counter to release the loaf.

2.  This recipe can easily be made into muffins instead of a whole loaf.  Grease and flour a muffin tin as directed, and fill each cup about halfway full.  Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown.  Remove from tin and cool on a rack.

3.  You can use any sparkling white wine available, such as cava, prosecco, or even real Champagne – although I suggest drinking the good stuff, and not ever cooking with it unless it’s gone horribly flat.

Posted in Quick Breads, Savory | Leave a comment

Yeasted Beer Bread

Week Twenty-Five: Beer Bread Week!

yeast-beer-bread

For today’s variation, I wanted to experiment with the leavening in beer bread.  I know, I know, half the charm of classic beer bread is its speed – delicious bread can be yours in less than 1 hour! – and that almost stopped me from including this variation.  But what can I say; I was curious!  I wanted to see what would happen if you substituted one kind of leavening (yeast) for the original kind (chemical), keeping everything else the same.

Some of you more experienced breadmakers out there, after looking at the original recipe, might be able to see one major problem with that approach.  I, however, was moving too quickly and not thinking things through enough to see it until I was in the thick of it.

Have you figured it out yet?  That’s right, it’s the liquid to flour ratio, or hydration levels.  The original recipe uses 12 ounces of liquid for 13 1/2 ounces (3 cups) of flour.  That’s pretty darn close to 100% hydration; or “soup”, for all you non-bakers out there.  Dough soup doesn’t exactly make for good yeast bread.  Luckily, I caught myself before I added in the whole amount of warmed beer, when there were about 4 ounces left (give or take).  Yes, 4 ounces of warm, flat, American lager.  I absolutely hate wasting food of any sort, but that stuff went down the drain.

Another problem I avoided (but only barely, if I’m honest) was the mixing procedure.  “Just replace the leavener!,” says I.  “Keep everything else the same!,” says I.  But after dutifully stirring all the ingredients together by hand, I began to cover it for its first rise, and realized that there was certainly not enough gluten formed to hold the yeast-gases in.  I’m really not sure what I was thinking; I darn well know better than to attempt a yeast bread with no kneading (ahem – with as short a rise as I was willing to allow at 8 pm).  “Dummy!,” says I, and poured the mess into the stand mixer.

Yes, I said “poured”.  At this point, I’m still using 3 cups of flour, per the original recipe.  Okay, maybe it was “scraped”; but it certainly wasn’t the tidier “transferred”.  I added in another cup or so of flour, and kneaded with the dough hook until I saw those familiar little strands and webs of gluten begin to take shape.  I left the dough very wet on purpose (to the point that hand-kneading would’ve been impossible), to keep as close to the original hydration level as possible.  Foolish, maybe; but it actually ended up being okay.

The dough rose goopily over the edge of the pan, and didn’t have a whole lot of oven spring, but that’s to be expected with such a wet dough, and the use of all-purpose flour.  Because of the high percentage of liquid, the holes in the dough were fairly large, and were pleasantly evenly-distributed.  The crust softened after standing, but it remained crustier than the average store-bought sandwich bread.  The flavor, however, was the big surprise.  It was quite tangy, with a very pleasant sourdough taste, and had quite a depth of flavor.  If you’re a member of my immediate family, it tasted surprisingly and suspiciously like Mamaw’s sourdough bread.  If you’re not a member of my family, Mamaw’s sourdough bread is awesome.

But how?!  This was a standard straight-dough method (i.e: mix everything at one time, rise, shape, rise, bake); there was no autolyse, overnight starter, slow rise, or any of the normal tricks I use to achieve this type of complex flavor.  I’ve made similar straight-dough breads before, and they sure as heck didn’t taste this good – even taking the use of sugar and butter into account.  There was only one possible culprit here: the beer.  To the internets!

I’ll cut to the chase.  After some research, I determined that one thing beer has – that water, milk, soda, or most other liquids don’t have – is malt.  Of course!  Malt is often added in breadmaking to improve flavor, texture, and keeping ability of bread.  And since malt is the basic building block of beer, it makes perfect sense to add malt via the liquid, by adding a can of beer.  Mystery solved!

So to sum up: beer makes bread taste better, especially when you actually put it in the dough (yuk, yuk).  Leavening type doesn’t matter much, it just depends on what you want in the end, crumbly quick bread, or slice-able sandwich-type bread.  Use enough flour.  Knead yeast bread enough, but don’t over-mix quick bread.  Use your head and think things through.  These are the lessons I’ve learned today.  I’d call that a success!  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go have another slice.

 

Yeasted Beer Bread
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

18 ounces (about 4 cups) + 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour, divided
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons instant yeast
3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly
8 ounces light beer, at room temperature, or slightly warmer

1.  Lightly grease a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan, and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour.  Shake the flour around until the whole interior is coated, then knock out the excess.

2.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together 15 ounces (about 3 1/2 cups) of the flour, the salt, and the sugar.  Whisk in the yeast.  Add the butter and beer, and mix with the dough hook at low speed until combined.  Increase the speed to medium, and knead until cohesive and elastic, about 7 to 9 minutes.  Add the remaning flour as needed to achieve the proper consistency; however, dough should be slack.  Scrape down any dough stuck to the walls of the bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 50 minutes.

3.  When fully risen, fold the dough over itself in a tri-fold, as though you were folding a letter.  This will deflate it.  Transfer the dough to the prepared loaf pan, and cover loosely with a lightly oiled piece of plastic wrap.  Let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 45 minutes.  Preheat oven to 350º F.

3.  Bake at 350º F for 35 to 45 minutes, or until golden brown on top, and an instant thermometer registers  200º F when inserted into the center.  Remove from pan.  Cool thoroughly on a rack before slicing.

 

Notes:
1.  After the bread is baked, loosen the edges with a knife if needed, and gently knock the edge of the pan on the counter to release the loaf.

2.  Feel free to add more flour than stated if you prefer a firmer dough.

Posted in Savory, Yeast Breads | Leave a comment

Sourdough Beer Bread

Week Twenty-Five: Beer Bread Week!

the 70s called... they want their styling back

the 70s called... they want their styling back

After tinkering with flavorings and non-alcoholic liquids, the next beer bread variation I wanted to try was to add some sourdough starter.  I used this recipe for the starter; but sadly, I finally had to lay that original one from back in March to rest, and start anew.  So sad!  Requiescat in pace, good and faithful starter.

Now, maybe this sounds a little batty to you, adding a yeasted starter into a quickbread.  It even sounds a little batty to me.  I wasn’t sure that it would do anything at all, really.  It certainly wouldn’t make the bread fluffier, as the yeast wouldn’t have time to grow and give off those gases that makes yeast-leavened bread airy and full of holes; and the use of baking powder (which activates as soon as it’s moistened) prevented any rising time.

But one thing that sourdough starter does have is acid.  Many acids, actually, for example, lactic and acetic acids.  Those two acids in particular are important dough conditioners, and produce much better flavors and textures.  In yeast bread, anyway.  How would it act in a quickbread?  Would the acids act on the dough immediately, or would they need time to provide any noticable change?  So many questions!  I had to give it a shot.

After many frantic hours of deliberation, pacing, and hair-tearing*, I decided to just mix everything all together at once, as opposed to mixing the starter and some of the flour together, giving it a rest, then mixing in the remaining ingredients.  After all, I know for a fact that given time, those amazing acids in the starter will certainly improve the texture and flavor of any given bread.  I was curious to know if they would act immediately.

Since I hate suspense, I’ll just tell you that the answer is no.  But the experiment was not in vain; not only do I know that information now, but the starter did lend a tangy complexity to the finished bread.  I was a little worried about the final texture, since I reduced the amount of beer used to compensate for the added moisture from the very liquid-y starter.

Based on my attempt earlier this week at swapping alcoholic beer for non-alcoholic root beer (not an abject failure, but not a success either), I thought it wise to keep as much beer in the mixture as possible.  Armed with a formula** for adding in that particular starter, I settled on reducing the beer from 12 to 9 ounces, an amount I considered relatively safe.  I added 3/4 cup of starter, which I felt would give an acceptable level of flavor, while not changing the basic beer bread too much.

In the end, the basic texture was pretty much exactly like the original beer bread, so a success there.  As for the rest, well… I say you’re just as well off making original beer bread.  The starter did lend a seductive note of sourdough to the smell, but there was only the faintest hint of it on the palate, and it had to build up on the back of your tongue as you ate a slice.  It was certainly not on the front of the taste, and could even be missed if you weren’t looking out for it.

Not that this turned out badly; it was quite the opposite, actually.  This was the variation most like the original, so far.  It was delicious, soft, buttery, slightly sweet, pleasantly crumbly and hard to slice, everything that the original was.  But that’s exactly why I’ll never make it again.  It’s kind of like when they re-made the movie Psycho, shot for shot.  Sure, it was pretty much as good as the first time around; but why bother with spending all the time and energy to fix something that ain’t broke?  The original is just fine, thank you very much, and we don’t need any sourdough starters or Anne Heches or Vince Vaughans mucking things up.  But thanks anyway.

(By the way, Vince Vaughan?  Seriously, Mr. Casting Director?)

 

* – Author’s claimed distress may be vasty exaggerated.

** – For every cup of liquid and all of the yeast in the original recipe, substitute instead 1/2 cup of starter, 5 ounces of liquid, and 1/2 teaspoon instant yeast.  In this application, I ignored the yeast.

And now, for something completely different:

 

Sourdough Beer Bread
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

3 cups + 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
3/4 cup sourdough starter, from this recipe
4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly
9 ounces light beer, at room temperature

1.  Preheat oven to 350º F.  Lightly grease a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan, and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour.  Shake the flour around until the whole interior is coated, then knock out the excess.

2.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder, salt, and sugar.  Add the butter and beer, and stir with a spoon or spatula until moist and just combined.  Pour into prepared loaf pan.

3.  Bake at 350º F for 40 to 45 minutes, or until golden brown on top.  Remove from pan.  Cool at least 10 minutes on a rack before slicing.

 

Notes:
1.  After the bread is baked, loosen the edges with a knife if needed, and gently knock the edge of the pan on the counter to release the loaf.

2.  This recipe can easily be made into muffins instead of a whole loaf.  Grease and flour a muffin tin as directed, and fill each cup about halfway full.  Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown.  Remove from tin and cool on a rack.

Posted in Quick Breads, Savory | Leave a comment

Chocolate Stout Beer Bread

Week Twenty-Five: Beer Bread Week!

chocolate-turbodog

For today’s beer bread variation, I decided to play around with flavorings more than type of ingredient.  I knew I wanted to try using a dark beer, like a stout, but I also wanted to try something a little more interesting than just switching out the beer.  I decided to introduce one of my favorite ingredients: chocolate.  Chocolate and stout go together like frick and frack; just ask the good people at Rogue Ales.

There’s three main ways you can add chocolate to a bread recipe: you can treat it as a dry ingredient (by sifting cocoa into the flour), you can make it an add-in (by kneading in bits of chopped chocolate), or you can treat it as a liquid (by adding melted chocolate into the dough).  Rather than risk a gummy texture again by decreasing the amount of beer, I elected to avoid the liquid route.  Of the two remaining methods, I decided to go with a more saturated chocolate flavor, and sift cocoa into the flour.  This, I felt, was also more of a variation than it would be if I merely stirred chocolate chips into the batter.

As for the beer, I had originally planned use that old standard, Guinness.  It’s decent, inexpensive, and widely available.  But then, in the beer aisle at Sam’s Wine, faced with all those enticing choices, I couldn’t bring myself to just get one can of Guinness.  Why do that, when I could get a 6 pack of something else, use one, and have five left over (win!)?  So I talked myself (it wasn’t hard) into supporting the old home team, and I picked up some Abita Turbodog.  Flavored with chocolate and toffee, the box said; and I said, “Okay.”

If I’m honest, I find Guinness a bit too heavy with the “burnt toast”; and have always preferred Turbodog (if I’m forced to choose a dark beer, anyway).   I was a little concerned about the bread turning out too bitter if I used Guinness; but mostly I was concerned about having to finish that 16 ounce can.  No, you can’t just pour it out; it’s beer!

So with my beer (okay, it’s not officially “stout”, what of it?) and my chocolate-adding method decided upon, I turned to the other flavorings.  Instead of butter, I opted for olive oil (my love of chocolate and olive oil together may or may not transcend the barrier between this world and the next).  Concerned about the bitterness introduced by the unsweetened cocoa, I increased the amount of sugar just a touch.  Finally, to compensate for the acidity of non-Dutched cocoa powder, I added a bit of baking soda to level it out.

The batter looked just right, if darker than the original, and baked into the familiarly-lumpy loaf.  It was a pretty mahogany color, smelled fantastic, and the slices were almost ridiculously hard to cut, as they just kept crumbling with each saw of the serrated blade (as you can see in the above picture).  These were all good signs.

But when I took a bite, I didn’t taste a deeper, darker variation of beer bread, all I tasted was undersweet chocolate cake.  Half of the joy of beer bread is in its soft, fluffy texture; but here, with the richness of chocolate, it evoked a slightly dry dessert.  I’m not going to say it was bad, because it wasn’t.  The texture was just right, in fact; but the flavors just did not compute.

I will say that I was expecting something different, I didn’t get it, and I was a bit disappointed.  What exactly I was expecting, I’m not really sure.  Something rich, something a little bitter, something to bring out the savory side of chocolate, but something undeniably bready.  This, however, tasted like you could add an egg to the batter, bake it in a round pan, slap on some buttercream, and start singing “Happy Birthday”.  No one would be upset.

Mark my words, I haven’t given up on Chocolate Stout Beer Bread.  The idea is too good for it not to work: stout, chocolate, olive oil.  You can’t lose, really.  A rematch is certainly in order – I’ve still got four Turbodogs left, after all, and they’re not going to use themselves!

 

Chocolate Stout Beer Bread
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

2 2/3 cups + 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
1/3 cups unsweetened cocoa powder (not Dutched, see note 1 below)
3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup sugar
3 tablespoons olive oil
12 ounces stout or other dark beer, at room temperature

1.  Preheat oven to 350º F.  Lightly grease a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan, and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour.  Shake the flour around until the whole interior is coated, then knock out the excess.

2.  In a medium bowl, sift together the flour and cocoa powder, baking powder, salt, and sugar.  Add the olive oil and beer, and stir with a spoon or spatula until moist and just combined.  Pour into prepared loaf pan.

3.  Bake at 350º F for 40 to 45 minutes, or until an instant-read thermometer registers about 200º F when inserted into the middle.  The loaf should feel firm when pressed gently in the center.  Remove from pan.  Cool at least 10 minutes on a rack before slicing.

 

Notes:
1.  If your cocoa doesn’t specify, it is most likely non-Dutched.  If you have Dutched cocoa powder, substitute the teaspoon of baking soda with an additional teaspoon of baking powder (for a total of 4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder and no baking soda).

2.  After the bread is baked, loosen the edges with a knife if needed, and gently knock the edge of the pan on the counter to release the loaf.

3.  This recipe can easily be made into muffins instead of a whole loaf.  Grease and flour a muffin tin as directed, and fill each cup about halfway full.  Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown.  Remove from tin and cool on a rack.

Posted in Quick Breads, Sweet | 5 Comments

Whole Wheat Beer Bread

Week Twenty-Five: Beer Bread Week!

ww-beer-bread

Having determined yesterday that beer is a crucial ingredient in beer bread (for as-yet undetermined reasons), I decided to keep that ingredient unchanged (PBR ftw!), and instead mess around with the dry ingredients today.  I’m a big fan of whole grains in general, so I decided to see what a whole wheat beer bread would end up like.

Now, as much as I would love a 100% whole wheat beer bread, I know better than to just swap out all the white flour for whole wheat.  (This is, of course, assuming I would like to end up with an edible end product.  If the goal is to produce a doorstop, then that approach would certainly work.)  Generally speaking, you can substitute up to half of the white flour in any given bread recipe with little ill effect.  I thought that’d be a good place to start.

So now I had 50% white flour and 50% whole wheat flour.  The next step was the leavening.  In the original recipe, self-rising flour is used, which leads to a question.  But first, here’s a secret: I’ve never actually purchased self-rising flour (since I became mistress of my own kitchen, anyway).  I simply don’t have the space to store yet another bag of flour, when I’ve got all the ingredients necessary to make the stuff on hand anyway.  It’s just salt and baking powder, for crying out loud!

The question was, do I use enough chemical leavening (baking powder and salt) to leaven all the flour, or just the white flour (as though I had substituted whole wheat flour for half of the specified self-rising flour)?  I decided, in the end, to err on the side of fluffiness.  I added enough baking powder and salt to essentially make self-rising white and whole wheat flour.  (Wow, I hope all that makes sense to anyone else.)  In the original recipe, the flavor of baking powder wasn’t detectable, so I knew that amount wouldn’t be overkill; and I was more worried about the whole wheat flour weighing things down, than I was about over-leavening.

The batter certainly looked like beer bread batter, and it baked into a loaf that looked just like beer bread ought.  It was as difficult to cut as beer bread usually is, and it smelled just a wee bit more earthy than usual.  Trying my first bite, it tasted exactly like I was hoping it would: like a nuttier, more wholesome beer bread.  Success was mine!

The light sweetness was still there, the faint butteriness was there, the crust was spot-on, and the texture just as fluffy as could be hoped (no gumminess today!).  It was crumbly, soft, and complex, it was classic beer bread made rustic, and I loved it.  Will this variation replace its originator in my culinary reperatoire?  Maybe not entirely; but that original better get ready to shove over and make some room!  Here come the whole grains!

 

Whole Wheat Beer Bread
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

1 1/2 cups + 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly
12 ounces light beer, at room temperature

1.  Preheat oven to 350º F.  Lightly grease a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan, and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons all-purpose flour.  Shake the flour around until the whole interior is coated, then knock out the excess.

2.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder, salt, and sugar.  Add the butter and beer, and stir with a spoon or spatula until moist and just combined.  Pour into prepared loaf pan.

3.  Bake at 350º F for 40 to 45 minutes, or until golden brown on top.  Remove from pan.  Cool at least 10 minutes on a rack before slicing.

 

Notes:
1.  After the bread is baked, loosen the edges with a knife if needed, and gently knock the edge of the pan on the counter to release the loaf.

2.  This recipe can easily be made into muffins instead of a whole loaf.  Grease and flour a muffin tin as directed, and fill each cup about halfway full.  Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown.  Remove from tin and cool on a rack.

Posted in Quick Breads, Savory | 3 Comments

Root Beer Bread

Week Twenty-Five: Beer Bread Week!

root-beer-bread

Welcome to Beer Bread Week!  When I made beer bread back in April, I ended up with several questions in my mind, mostly regarding the role of beer in the baking process, but also regarding the outcome when different dry ingredients were used, or other flavorings introduced.  In an attempt to find out, I’m devoting this week to variations on beer bread.

My first variation this week is to use a non-alcoholic beverage in place of the beer.  The main question I had regarding the basic beer bread recipe was the specific reason you use beer, rather than any other liquid.  Obvious possibilities would include the carbonation beer has, which would lighten the texture; and the flavor of beer, which would certainly taste better than water, which tastes like nothin’.  Tackling two birds with one stone, I decided to use a bottle of Sparkling Birch Soda instead of beer.  I thought about using sparkling water, but was worried about the lack of sweetness, so I elected to use a soda instead.

Okay, you caught me.  This isn’t actually “root beer bread”, it’s “birch soda bread”.  But if you’ve never had birch soda before (which I hadn’t; apparently it’s a Northern thing), it tastes almost exactly like root beer.  Besides, I thought “root beer bread” would evoke more of the original recipe than would “birch soda bread”, which brings Irish soda bread to mind.  To avoid confusion, I’m calling it root beer bread.  So there.

[As a side note, I found Izze brand Sparkling Birch Soda at a Whole Foods here in Chicago.  What I didn’t know then was that it was apparently a test run of the flavor.  They don’t even have it on their website!  I found one web forum in which one poster mentioned that Izze had sent an email in late April announcing three new flavors, including Sparkling Birch.  As of June 15, however, the Izze website, or any other easily-discoverable website for that matter, carries not a trace of this flavor.  Mysterious!]

The bread that I ended up with helps answer a few of my questions, but also raises additional questions.  The flavor of birch (or root beer) was quite potent.  It smelled like birch (or root beer), and definitely tasted like birch (or root beer).  I am not a fan of root beer.  It’s just a little too sticky sweet for my palate, or it conjures the notion of sticky-sweetness.  Either way, I’m not big on it.  If you like root beer, though, you’d probably love this.  So the issue of flavor was somewhat settled; obviously, the flavor of the liquid impacts the flavor of the end product.  However, that still doesn’t answer why, when I first made beer bread this year, the flavor of lime and vermouth dissipated completely in the end product.  Still a mystery!

The second question that was raised was regarding the texture.  Usually, beer bread ends up fluffy, crumbly, and soft.  This time, the bread was soft and fluffy, but it was also rather gummy.  A gummy texture can happen in any bread, if cut too early, while too warm; but this bread was fully cooled by the time I sliced into it.  So therefore, beer must have something in it that birch soda (or root beer) does not, something that affects the texture of the bread.  What that is, I’m not certain.  Research is in order!

So the final verdict on this bread is that you’re probably better off using real beer, but soda isn’t a bad choice, exactly.  Soda has the carbonation needed for a fluffy texture, and the sweetness and flavor to make for an interesting taste; but there’s still something missing, something that makes the original beer bread so simply perfect.  Is it the alcohol, or something else?  Perhaps over the course of the week, I’ll discover an answer.  Stay tuned!

 

Root Beer Bread
Makes one 9 x 5 inch loaf

3 cups + 2 teaspoons self-rising flour (see note 1 below)
3 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly
12 ounces root beer, or birch beer or soda, at room temperature

1.  Preheat oven to 350º F.  Lightly grease a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan, and sprinkle with 2 teaspoons flour.  Shake the flour around until the whole interior is coated, then knock out the excess.

2.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients.  Add the butter and root beer, and stir with a spoon or spatula until moist and just combined.  Pour into prepared loaf pan.

3.  Bake at 350º F for 40 to 45 minutes, or until golden brown on top.  Remove from pan.  Cool about 10 minutes on a rack before slicing.

 

Notes:
1.  If you don’t have self-rising flour, use the following instead: 3 cups all-purpose flour + 4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder + 3/8 teaspoons salt (or 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt).

2.  After the bread is baked, loosen with a knife if needed, and rap the edge of the pan on the counter to release the loaf.

3.  This recipe can easily be made into muffins instead of a whole loaf.  Grease and flour a muffin tin as directed, and fill each cup about halfway full.  Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown.  Remove from tin and cool on a rack.

Posted in Quick Breads, Savory | 2 Comments

Onion Dill Bread

Week Twenty-Four: Breads With Vegetables

onion-dill

To finish this week out, I wanted to make an onion bread.  But this bread isn’t actually very onion-y.  I might have called it “Dill Onion Bread” instead; except that it’s not particularly dill-y either.  It does, however, have dill and onion both in – dare I say – perfect balance, neither canceling the other out, not drowning out one with the other, but the one flavor complementing the other to the point that you have a delightful singularity of flavor, neither onion nor dill.  Dillonion.  Unfortunately, this nicely-balanced dillonion quality is… weak.

My very excellent editor and sous chef described the bread thusly: “It tastes like Thanksgiving.”  I’ll be honest: I didn’t quite get that.  What I did get, though, was a bread that paired very nicely with some garlicky hummus and a lightly-dressed salad.  (We’ve been eating a fair amount of that sort of thing lately, for some reason: bread + salad + protein = dinner.  I cannot explain this phenomenon.)

Dill, of course, is a natural paring with any seafood; so I thought a tuna salad sandwich would be lovely with this bread.  I have yet to try it out, but it’s probably on the menu in the near future.  You could make this dough into baguettes, to serve with any seafood entrée, with the exception of mussels.  Mussels need a really hard and crusty bread to best soak up their cooking liquid, and this bread just doesn’t have that crisp crust.

The dough is surprisingly rich with oil, egg, and cottage cheese.  I say “surprisingly”, because it really doesn’t taste it.  Putting this bread together, I was expecting a softer result, something almost akin to a savory brioche.  But it ends up with a moderately hard crust, which softens a bit after standing, and an open crumb.  It’s not as soft as a store-bought sandwich bread (which is a plus in my book), but it’s certainly not as hard as the average artisanal loaf.

All in all, this is a good bread.  Is it great?  Not really; but you could absolutely do worse.  I’ve certainly made far worse breads; but I’ve also made better breads.  I imagine an autolyse period (that 15 or 20 minute cat-nap you give the dough after mixing) would benefit it, as would the addition of some sourdough starter.  The onion and dill flavors could also be increased a fair amount, despite the fact that it looks like quite a bit of both go into the dough already.  I’m just not convinced that all the ingredients were worth their expense for what you get out of it.

Thus, the genius of Chef Bo Friberg is revealed: even his “dud” recipes are still totally decent.  Chef Friberg ftw!

 

Onion Dill Bread
Adapted from Bo Friberg
Makes 2 small loaves or 1 large loaf

6 ounces (1 small or 3/4 medium) yellow onion, chopped finely
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 tablespoons vegetable oil (such as canola)
1 1/2 tablespoons dried or 1/4 cup chopped fresh dill
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 pound (about 3 1/2 cups) unbleached bread flour, divided
6 ounces (about 1 1/2 cups) whole wheat flour
2 1/4 teaspoons instant yeast (1 packet)
1 tablespoon sugar
3/4 cup warm water (115º to 130º F)
1 whole large egg + 1 egg yolk
3 ounces (about 1/3 cup) cottage cheese

1.  In a pan over moderate heat, sauté the onions in 1 tablespoon of the olive oil, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes.  Be careful not to brown them.  Remove from the heat, add the remaining olive oil, the vegetable oil, dill, and salt.  Stir to combine, and set aside.

2.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together 10 ounces (2 1/4 cups) of the bread flour, the whole wheat flour, yeast, and sugar.  Mix the water, the egg, egg yolk, and cottage cheese together.  Add to the flour mixture in the bowl.

3.  Using the dough hook, mix at low speed until a dough begins to form, scraping the bowl down as needed.  Add the reserved onion mixture, and continue kneading at low speed until incorporated, adding enough of the remaining flour to help it integrate.  Increase the speed to medium and knead for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the dough forms a cohesive and elastic ball.  Add the reserved flour by tablespoons to achieve the proper consistency; the dough should be slightly firm, and not sticky.  Transfer the dough to a large, lightly oiled bowl.  Cover with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 45 minutes.

4.  Uncover the bowl, and using a nonstick spatula, fold the dough over itself in a tri-fold, as though you were folding a letter.  Re-cover the bowl, and let the dough rise for another 45 minutes, or until doubled in volume.

5.  Lightly oil a baking sheet, or line with a sheet of parchment paper.  Punch the dough down, and turn out onto a lightly floured surface.  Form the dough into a single oval loaf, or divide it into two pieces and shape into oval loaves, with a skin stretching around the outside.  Place smooth-side up on the prepared baking sheet, and cover loosely with lightly oiled plastic wrap.  Let rest until nearly doubled in size, about 1 hour.  Preheat the oven to 400º F thirty minutes before baking.

6.  Spray or sprinkle the loaf (or loaves) with water, and transfer to the oven.  Bake at 400° F for 10 minutes, opening the door to spray again with water every minute or two.  Continue baking for another 20 minutes, or until golden brown and baked through, and an instant-read thermometer registers 200° F when inserted into the center.  Remove to a wire rack to cool.

 

Notes:
1.  Instead of cottage cheese, you can use any similarly-textured dairy product: sour cream, thick yogurt, crème fraîche, quark, clotted cream, etc., etc.  Cottage cheese is commonly available, and reasonably priced.  And don’t worry about seeing lumps of cheese goo in the bread; they just melt into the dough, leaving no trace but a little richness and moisture.

2.  You can substitute the whole-wheat flour with additional bread flour, if you like.

Posted in Savory, Yeast Breads | Leave a comment