What Crickets?

It's been very quiet here lately, it's true.

First there was Thanksgiving, in Seattle, a town where I'm apparently unable to bake bread. Otherwise I liked it there, but really. Come on, Seattle.

Then there was all the flying, and the sleeping, and mostly the end of the semester. The Librarian has been much to the fore, and while she hasn't quite managed to elbow back the Baker, she sure as hell has routed the Blogger, by far the least central of my shifting identities.

Also, in by far the weakest excuse, my camera's batteries have run down and I apparently have a block against picking up a pack of double A's.

(Leader's Pain au Levain, unadorned)

I have been baking, though. I can't help it. Bread, quiche, toffee, sables, even a pear tart that was supposed to make it into a TWD post last week but never quite arrived (it was runny).

(a poor picture of a first attempt at Leader's Ganachaud Flote)

And, of course, I was back at Lily & Fig this weekend trying out new things.  This week's offerings were Challah (a slightly leaner and less sweet formula--I'll retrace and add a bit more sugar next week), Raisin Walnut Levain (bought straight off the cooling rack), Oatmeal Sunflower bread (a straight dough, with a little oil and honey), and my favorite, untasted, the Roasted Garlic Levain. This bread, with roasted and mashed garlic mixed right into the dough, smelled heavenly from the knead to the bake.

So far, the response to the bread has been so generous and positive, both in person and online. I can't help but feel that a shout-out on excellent local blog I love Franklin Ave really puts me on the neighborhood map. That's actually one of the things I'm enjoying most about this gig (aside from the opportunity to legitimately obsess and experiment with bread)--the opportunity to meet so many more of my neighbors, and to be, in whatever small way, a more real part of their lives, and they of mine. I've met dentists, gardeners, middle school students, and all kinds of cookie-hungry Crown Heights denizens, more good people than I could have hoped to encounter in years of just walking down the street, thanks to Lily's warm way with an introduction and the universality of baked goods.

I promise I'll buy batteries and finish all my homework soon, and be back with beautiful breads, cake, and my  new interest, slow-cooker turkey stew, soon. In the meantime, if you want to see a beautiful set of pictures of Lily & Fig, with my challahs featured in the case, visit this Flickr page.

Daily Bread: Starry Polish Cottage Rye

That's more like it. Above is Leader's Polish Cottage Rye, a nearly perfect bread made from a combination of a rye sourdough and wheat bread flour. This loaf was everything I could have hoped for and more: crackly crust, deep flavor, and soft, moist, irregular open crumb.

The dough is wet enough to require proofing in a bowl, basket, or banneton, which will make it more difficult to do at the bakery, but I think it's worth it. This loaf proofed in a napkin-lined colander, which left an unexpected starry pattern even through the cloth.

Daily Bread: Multigrain Pain au Levain

Testing bread in earnest now.

This morning I baked two loaves of multigrain pain au levain, using Daniel Leader's formula from Local Breads. The multi grains, which soaked for eight hours while the levain fermented, were sesame seeds, flaxseeds, coarse cornmeal, and oats. The dough also contained small percentages of whole wheat and rye flours. I forgot to add the seeds until halfway through kneading, rendering the dough very wet and gloopy, so kneading was a long slow process, with frequent rests.

One of the things that I'm concentrating on now that the weekend's loaves will actually sold to people is my shaping and scoring. I consider the loaf above to be a triumph. It also tasted good, dark and moist. I took it in to the architects' office where I used to work, and they, German, English, Japanese, and American, were very complimentary. I'll be filling in at that office quite a bit in the next month, and am looking forward to re-gaining one of my more enthusiastic and knowledgeable audiences.

Compulsive baking--win friends and influence people.

Going 'Pro'

Exciting news.
The week before last, I saw a sign on the door of Lily & Fig, the bakery down the block.

"Experienced Bread Baker Needed - Part Time"

Hmmm.
I'm a full time student. I work about 3/4 time at various freelance jobs. I'm a member of a theatre company.
But it looked good. Very good. And temptingly close to home. I'm baking all the time anyway, right? Why not learn more and let someone else pay for the ingredients...(All justifications, by the way--I got starry-eyed just thinking about perfecting my pain au levain, opening up the bakery in the dark dawn...I've been fantasizing about these things for years.)

I went in.

It turned out that they were indeed looking for low-volume, part-time bread, and they were willing to take a chance on me.  After one weekend, I hope they think that that chance was justified. I'm still learning, still navigating bulk production, big mixers, convection ovens, customer satisfaction, and consistency. I'll be learning a long time, slowly teaching myself with the help of bakery owner Lily, baker Karen, the books of Leader, Hamelman, et al, and weekly experience.

This is a small good new thing, a lucky chance. If you live nearby, or happen to be visiting, come try some bread--it's Franklin Avenue between Sterling and Park Place. For now, it will be challah on Fridays, and some combination of whole wheat, pain au levain, and other naturally raised breads, along with rustic Italian breads, on Saturdays and Sundays.

Weekly Bread

From San Francisco to the deep South to Ireland, I made three breads this week; San Francisco sourdough loosely based on Daniel Leader's recipe in Bread Alone, and skillet corn bread and Irish soda bread from John Thorne's recipes in Outlaw Cook and Serious Pig. It was a big week for buttermilk, especially with the (upcoming) Tuesdays with Dorie recipe. Each of these in its own way was so simple, and so delicious. It's bread month over at The Brooklyn Kitchen, and I guess they've either got the season pinned or are exerting an unhealthy influence over my flour consumption. Or every month is bread month here.

Rice is Nice, but...

Bread is life.
In Uganda, one thing that came up a lot was the concept of a staple food. In Africa as in pretty much anywhere else, starch is the central defining feature of regional diet. Bill Buford mentions this in Heat, speaking of the polentoni and the mangiamaccheroni who populate the different regions of Italy.

In much of Africa, the staple starch is cassava, known also as fufu or manioc. In much of Uganda, it is matoke, steamed plantains. Rice is also common, though imported. Because food is tied to regional identity, and because this is reinforced for school children learning about exports and imports, the question 'What is your staple food?' is a fairly common one. For me, coming from New York, food crossroads of a wealthy country, the question took some thought. Is starch, in fact, the bulk of my diet? Or is it steak? Chicken? Do I prefer rice? Polenta? Maybe a new starch every night?
The answer I decided to give was wheat. I'm not sure if I eat more bread than rice by volume, or what I'd prefer under the other elements of my dinner, but I know how I feel about bread. I make it by hand, seek out special ingredients for it, plan meals around its leftovers, and seek it out everywhere I go. Bread is the starch that truly captures my cultural imagination, the metaphorical if not literal stuff of my life. Bread is places, bakeries and ovens, bread is the wheat fields waving in their endless American abundance. In this way, wheat, and by extension bread, is staple. It is my regional identity and all else is a kind of garnish.

It can't be that simple, of course. The real signifiers of my New England regional identity are apples, maple syrup, sweet corn, berries, and ice skates. But somewhere in the great mush of American identity, wheat is the base, and bread is our common understanding of how to eat. (Think, for example, of restaurants...it's a rare place, and usually an 'ethnic' one, that dares to skip the bread basket, or dares to charge diners for it. My grandparents were famously devoted to the bread basket, going into excruciatingly embarrassing and retrospectively hilarious shock when a restaurant failed to provide at least some crackers.)\

Bread is central, and making bread is also central--to my self-perception as a nurturing, capable, crusty post-hippie child. It is transformation and validation and it is delicious. Which is all code for--making bread is one of my greatest pleasures, and having enough time to make it is rare this season. Daniel Leader's recipe for Pane Genzanese (Pane di Genzano, Genzano Country Bread) has become my staple recipe for soft, crusty white bread. It is good every time, and keeps well, but last night's loaf was especially perfect, having avoided the usual frozen-and-impatiently-underthawed fate of most of the bread I bake. I only regret that I have a woozy cold and couldn't really smell it baking. But look at that crumb structure. I guess the fact that I obsess about crumb and hole structures and think anyone else will care means bread is definitely my staple food.

Pumpernickel Raisin Bread

I took another stab at Daniel Leader's Pumpernickel Raisin Bread from Bread Alone. Last time I made this, we found the molasses flavor too overpowering, so this time I upped the rye flour component, used about an eighth of the recommended molasses, and also used a bunch of stale bread crumbs, which I've heard is something that's done with pumpernickel. It was good. I still think the cocoa and molasses could be minimized a bit more (there's also coffee in it) but this is very acceptable toast bread. And Matt really likes it.

En Route

I'm gone to Uganda.
No updates for three weeks, but I'll bring back pictures.
Like the pictures of the San Francisco sourdough above.
Happy New Year in advance.

Pane di Genzano in a Basket

I'm blogging on deadline here, or more specifically writing a paper on deadline, thus not supposed to be blogging, but I thought you might like to see some pictures of my first successful attempt at getting pretty ridges on my bread. This is Pane di Genzano from Local Breads, proofed in a breadbasket, or 'makeshift banneton.' I just dusted hell out of the basket with flour and hoped that its sharp ridges wouldn't become a problem. They didn't, and the result was rather lovely.
I also tried out the whole wheat version this time--it was very soft and wet but not unmanageable at all. I formed it into long, sort of shapeless loaves, like this one.
It baked very quickly, almost burning, and the taste was good, a little more complex than the white in the one side by side tasting I did.