Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Alpha Bakers -- Whole Wheat Walnut Loaf


Bread is so wonderful. My birthday breakfast this year was a large loaf of Zaro's raisin challah, eaten with coffee one day and dipped in milk the next (yes, it was a birthday weekend, nobody celebrates just one day). This week with the Alpha Bakers was 100% Whole Wheat Walnut bread, a cheese-friendly loaf that wasn't very pretty on the outside, but was lovely and simple inside. 
The bread begins with a small preferment, which rises under a blanket of the rest of the flour. The flour I used was Farmer Ground, from an organic cooperative from upstate NY that is sold for a very reasonable price at farmer's markets and my food coop. They have a whole wheat line, but all I could pick up yesterday was their all purpose, an 11% protein flour milled from 'Warthog' winter wheat. Warthog. This made my loaf a little lighter, and I'd like to try with the whole wheat, but the all-purpose is still much sturdier than your average store brand. Whole wheat flour is sometimes a little harder to bake bread with, so Rose's recipe includes a dash of vital wheat gluten, which increases gluten development and elasticity, contributing to a higher rise. 

My kitchen was very, very hot last night (I was making this in the middle of a heat wave) and I accidentally threw in a little too much yeast (must measure, weighing is too inaccurate at those small amounts), so my bread rose wildly and was a little more loose than I would have preferred. I did the first turn in the bowl instead of stretching it out on a counter, but I am pretty good at bowl turns after years of using the Tartine method, so I am confident in my choices. The looseness of the dough meant that the final loaf was a little sloppier looking and not as domed as I could have wished, but the interior was perfect. I'll be serving it for breakfast with jam and Comte, and then taking it to work. 

As for the pie I said it was too hot to make, I didn't make it. Blueberry pie is great but I have extreme difficulty holding on to blueberries long enough to get to that place. I've been skipping around a lot with the Alpha Baking lately but expect to be back on track for the rest of the summer (until I move, more on that later, cross your fingers...). The week before last I made some cookies but haven't blogged them yet because I went to the beach instead. In fact I took them to the beach. Behold the Kourambiethes in their fancy packaging. Buttery and nutty and buttery, we ate them on the beach and threw the crumbs everywhere. Everyone approved, and my friend's two and a half year old, who claimed to be too shy to interact with us, pronounced them 'nummy.' So.





 

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Alpha Bakers -- Molasses Crumb Cakelets



Gingerbread. Definitely my jam. Definitely good with jam, also, if it comes to that. Gingerbread is also really molassesbread. This gingerbread below has no ginger. More on this.

This week's baking was a portrait of an internal tug-of-war, a crisis of place played out in butter, sugar, orange zest, and molasses.

I have been doing something that all East Coast people do, but most don't like to admit. I have been dallying with California. In my defense, it's San Francisco, people. A city so beautiful that residents of Lisbon and, well, New York, are impressed. Every block felt like a secret and a new beginning. I couldn't begin taking pictures of houses because I would have to take every one. Yes, I was staying in a neighborhood I couldn't begin to afford, and yes, I was drenched in what Matthew Amster-Burton calls 'Vacation Head,' but, oh, I was ready to really, truly say goodbye to Brooklyn and move to that strange, steep, city. Perspective. 

Maybe I am ready to leave New York, but more maybe what I needed was a reminder that there are other ways to do things, other values to value, other ways to make places lovely. I was very happy there. Thank you to Willa & Steve, my wonderful hosts, who gave me a beautiful home and a warm welcome, to the beautiful older butches riding fire trucks with their wives and the bookmobiles driving in the pride parade. To Clarence & Shefali & K & M, my old neighbors who showed me their new neighborhood. Thank you San Francisco, for a rest and for helping me breathe and wearing out my calves. To Miriam, with whom I drove over the longest and most amazing bridge, and then about 500 more miles. Zach, my dear cousin who just moved out there like a good little migrating tech-bird, I hope the Bay Area is wonderful to you. 

Eating (and walking) in San Francisco is much like eating and walking in any famous city--half-remembered terribly famous names just appeared every time I turned a corner, and I greeted them like old friends. On my first blissful walk through town, I walked past no less than the lovely Zuni Cafe, and two hours later I was there for lunch. It was perfect, as simple and as strong as could be, and I would have gone back over and over. It's the kind of fancy restaurant that isn't really fancy, the kind where you instantly want to be a regular, the proper treat.

And then there was Tartine. One of the reasons that I fell so deeply and suddenly back in love with San Francisco (seriously, why have I been going to Europe--I want to see much much more of the Pacific Northwest) was how easy things seemed to be. Yes, every block is an Everest, and there are two conflicting transportation systems and nobody seems to notice (WTF, Muni & BART?). Still...something about NYC (and apparently Paris, Mr. Lebovitz) that everyone just seems to accept is that everything is always a Gigantic. Effing. Ordeal. Protesting. Celebrating. Meeting for lunch. Renting a car. Hiring a roofer. Everything. I know that every place has complications, and some things are harder outside of the city, but I swear that there is some agreement among New Yorkers that every damn thing has to be just a little harder than it needs to be, a little more of a hassle, and so whenever I leave town I am struck all over again by how little I need to hunch my shoulder and gird my loins before, say, going to the supermarket, or checking out a large public event. I have avoided all parades in NYC for many years (with good reason), but I was able to stroll down to SF pride perfectly calmly, walk through a crowd, watch the parade at the barricade for a while, and then...walk away. This blew my mind. Do they just get to go see fireworks and then not have to walk down terrifying subway entrances after queuing behind weird traffic control buses too? What is this magical place? 

Of course, the magic I fell for was a place that embodies both the free and crunchy spirit of San Francisco and the celebrity-culture hassle of a New York or Paris. Tartine. 

Tartine, that bakery of beautiful conflicts. The line is long, but everyone is pleasant. The counter staff is calm and efficient. The place feels like a neighborhood coffee shop that just happens to have the best croissants this side of the Atlantic and you want to sit there forever. And you sort of can. There were lines both times I went there, but also seats. And I got a morning bun. 
I had heard many tales of the storied morning bun, a croissant-meets-kouign amman-meets-sticky-bun situation. I even tried to make them once, about two years ago for my former boss' birthday. As the person who most closely shares my love of breakfast pastry, I felt it was no more than she deserved. However, I found that I had completely failed her. The morning buns I had made using Tartine's recipe were crusty, sticky pleasures, but they were not Tartine's morning buns. Somehow, the ones they turn out are softer, fluffier. And very good. They somehow make it all the way through all the aforementioned pastries to an almost sugar-raised doughnut place. And, as we all know, sugar doughnuts are the creme de all cremes, so. I immediately texted said former boss, who luckily was in town for the same conference that I was, and confessed my failure and suggested she get herself over to Tartine immediately. 
When I got home, I tried again, and went through the, well, giant hassle of making croissant dough and making morning buns. 
They were still crunchier than Tartine's, but excellent.

Then, I moved into another path, wandered into a different idiom, really, and made this week's Alpha Bakers recipe, the Molasses Crumb Cakelets. If there is an opposite to Tartine's croissants, this is it. These are small, terse, vegan mini-muffins, with a stern hit of molasses (I used the Wholesome Sweeteners brand). These are the frugal, spicy face of Northeast austerity and hospitality. These are...really really good. There are things that need careful dexterity and long patience. And these are works of art and are good. There are also things that are simple, that mix in one bowl and bake in ten minutes and use no eggs and no butter, and they, too, are valuable parts of our lives. Richness isn't only in effort or butterfat. 

Or maybe there's no moral here and I just love gingerbread, even the kind without any actual ginger. These molasses cakelets are as worthwhile as any croissant, and maybe when I open my bed and breakfast, we'll serve croissants and elegant fruits in the morning, and these as a bedtime snack. They taste like home.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Alpha Bakers: Double Damage Oblivion

This world is full of some very serious chocolate lovers. I am not one. I love chocolate as much as some of the next guys, but there are guys out there for whom a dessert without chocolate might as well be a flip flop. When offered soup, a friend of mine has the habit of answering, 'No, thank you, I don't need a beverage.' I have many friends who react in the same way when offered pie--pie being all very well, but utterly beside the point. This cake is for those people.




You know, those people. The ones who need a flourless cake sandwiched between two layers of light, fudgy cocoa cake lined with ganache to be happy. The ones who'd like some cake with their cake, please. This cake is for them (although it could be improved by a layer of chocolate mousse, maybe).

So, what you see here is what you get--a thin, eggy, flourless cake layer inside of Rose's Deep Chocolate Passion, a light oil and cocoa confection that has served as the base everything from wedding cakes to cupcakes. The flourless cake, the Chocolate Oblivion, is very rich and bitter (at least with the chocolate I used), and the Chocolate Passion is essentially an improved Hostess product. Light and simple. I can't speak to the ganache because I followed the variation and used heated and strained raspberry preserves, rounded out with a little pear jelly, to glue the whole confection together, and, there you have it.

Done and done. The workplace did not complain. I am going downstairs now to investigate the leftovers, and there will probably be some, as it was very intense, but nobody quarrels with chocolate around here.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Alpha Bakers -- Rose Red Velvet

I have a complicated relationship with Red Velvet cake. I don't get the hype, but I love gratuitous food coloring, and I never turn down cream cheese frosting (or whipped cream, which is this recipe's garnish of choice. Red Velvet and I have agreed to disagree, and I usually just enjoy the fact that I get to make such a recognizably pleasing cake that holds a special place in many other people's hearts. In this case, the Rose Red Velvet as written takes the concept of RED to a bigger, better place. 
First of all, bundt pans are amazing. Second, NordicWare makes some bundt pans that really impress, and usually all I have to do is pull a cake out of my Heritage bundt (or, in Rose's cake, their rose bundt) and people think I'm a baking genius. 

In this case, however, the baking genius bought some crappy off-brand baking spray at Pathmark and the results were...unimpressive. 
I don't do cake pops, so folks at work were forced to be unimpressed with a container full of scraps. They were dutifully underwhelmed. I did do another run, though, with some modifications (ran short on baking powder, glazed with the reduced syrup of Trader Joes' cherries), and the look was much finer.  The texture didn't suffer too much from the low baking powder addition (and can we talk about the fact that I ran through a container of baking powder in about two months), but I also ran low on food coloring so I couldn't get that glaring artificial red. Consider this the entirely artificial organic beet juice look. Next week's cake is called the 'Double Damage Oblivion.' I'm sure it's a spare little cupcake.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Alpha Bakers -- Classic Brioche



Dear world. This here is a classic brioche. It has no bells and no whistles. It has quite a bit of butter. I made it over a day or two, and it involved some heavy lifting (of the mixer), some folding of dough into letter folds, one, two three, and then a quick overnight proof in the refrigerator. 

I have eaten nearly all of it, and plan to eat the rest for breakfast. Enough said.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Alpha Bakers - French Orange Tart



Orange cream tart. Looks like cottage cheese, tastes way better. I brought it to work and most of my colleagues ignored it. Their loss. I just kept eating it. It was a mildly tangy orange tart. Nothing not to love. Could have made the filling a little deeper, or cooked it slightly softer. No problem. It wasn't pretty but it was good.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Alpha Bakers -- Double Chocolate Oriolos


Lovely chocolate wafers. Like many of the best buttery cookies, these 'Oriolos' are made in the food processor, so although the small size of that appliance limits the size of the batch. I mixed this half batch up with almonds and cacao nibs replacing toasted walnuts (I had imprudently used all my toasted walnuts in some zucchini bread just hours earlier), and let the dough mellow in the refrigerator for 48 hours. I chose to roll them out on a very humid 81 degree day, so the final cookies squashed a bit flatter than I'd intended--next time I'll make sure they have more heft. The results were pleasing, though, if fragile.
Also, I did make, though don't plan on posting about, the BlueRhu pie from a few weeks ago. It was excellent, but more and more I think doing anything with rhubarb beyond roasting it (even pie!) is a waste.