Tuesdays with Dorie: Delinquency

Apparently, making all the recipes in a lump at the end of the previous month makes me delinquent about actually posting them.

Last week's TWD recipe, which I made at the bakery, was Chocolate Ganache Ice Cream. It was my first time making it, and I may have under-blended the cream and chocolate, but I found it inferior to David Lebovitz's regular chocolate ice cream, which includes similar ingredients but adds cocoa powder and an egg or two more. All in all, this one gets an 'eh'. But doesn't it look pretty in Lily & Fig's fancy ice cream containers?

Making things worse, I actually forgot to photograph this week's recipe, Oatmeal Breakfast Bread, but no real loss there as it wasn't terribly photogenic. I made this quick bread as muffins, to send along with Matt to his rehearsals. In addition to sparking a competitive baking boom among his cast, the muffins were enough of a hit to earn me a commission from a certain mustachioed director of Matt's acquaintance, (amazingly, that description could fit at least three people), who ordered a weekly delivery of breakfast muffins, specifying that they be 'branny, breakfasty, and big.' I thought immediately of the City Bakery Raspberry Bran muffins, my favorites in that genre, but sadly no online recipe exists. If the gentleman wants to continue our association, I'll do some research.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Bernachon Palet D'or Gateau

Such a 'proper bakery cake.' Single layer of rich cocoa sour cream cake, coated with chocolate ganache, and dripped with the lacquer glaze that made its previous appearance on the Chocolate Apricot Roulade. Rose's version, which is the cover cake on the book, is draped in currants and gold leaf. I didn't have any currants, and was about to run home for my fake gold leaf when Lily pulled out a few sheets of the real stuff, and we had fun peeling it on, although my technique was less than deft. Still any gold leaf is good gold leaf...and the cake was a Mother's Day hit at the bakery.

I didn't wind up tasting the finished cake, because I couldn't bear to take the first piece, but I did get enough of the scraps and bits of ganache to know that it was moist, with a hint of sharpness from the sour cream, and very good indeed. A very simple cake, really, under a few layers of fancy.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Baby Lemon Cheesecakes

According to Lily, this last week has been Cheesecake Week at the bakery, everyone who comes in is fiending for cool creamy richness. Both of us are constantly bemused by these fleeting market trends--one week everyone wants whole wheat bread, the next they need cheesecake--but it's fun to watch them come and go. And luckily, this week's Heavenly Cake Bakers recipe was right in line with the trend--mini cheesecakes topped with lemon curd. Just the kind of creamy, impressive, twee creation that everyone wants. Too bad I ignored Rose's exhortation in the intro note and made only half the recipe. These flew off the shelf so fast that we might be making more of them very soon.

The cakes are easy, although there are a bunch of steps. Luckily, they're steps I like, such as making sponge cake and lemon curd.  The recipe starts with a small note indicating that one should begin by making the sponge. Several bakers missed the step, and then backtracked in surprise. I was lucky enough to catch it this time (although I've been forgetting everything right and left, so it was just luck, believe me), and whipped my egg whites, yolks, sugar, et al in style. I love sponge cake, and everything that didn't get cut out went straight into my mouth.

Once the sponge was made, I cut it into small circles (Lily came in while I was doing this with a jar lid and pointed out that she has a small box of round cutters in EVERY size. Jealous). Then the very simple cheesecake mix was mixed. It consists largely of sour cream, so it was whiter and creamier than any cheesecake I've ever made, causing one fellow baker to describe it as similar to the Jell-o mix variety. The cake mixture was poured over the biscuit rounds (in paper muffin cups in a regular muffin pan), and baked in a water bath for about 20 minutes.

I cooled the cakes for a day, and the next morning made lemon curd and poured it hot onto the cold cakes. I was a little low on curd (should've made the full recipe), but managed to make it come out even, and by dint of a small offset spatula, was able to peel off the wrappers and smooth the sides pretty successfully. And the last one was gone by 1:00 pm.

The success of the cheesecakes was a balm to my wounded baker's soul, as, owing to some poor flour purchasing on my part, the bread was an unmitigated disaster, with some of it refusing to rise at all and the rest lacking strength in the extreme. Most of it had to be written off. Walking by the store, I saw my most loyal customer, a bread loving Swiss fellow, looking awfully disappointed, and I hid. Next week it will all be better. And I already made the Palet D'or Gateau, so maybe I'll try my hand at some croissants.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Coffee Chiffonlets with Whipped Cream

Back to babycakes!
Although I usually substitute pans and shapes with abandon (sorry Rose and NordicWare), in the case of these little cakes, an angel food cake pan of some kind, large or small, would have been a help in maintaining height. Although these chiffon cakes have eggs in them, their texture is light and spongy, and because making them in cupcake pans made it impossible for me to invert them during cooling, they shrank alarmingly.

They still tasted good, though, so I brushed them with coffee syrup and went ahead. A search of five bodegas and a supermarket in my neighborhood (which is strongly Caribbean, and has a fairly small Latino population) yielded infinite condensed milk and no dulce de leche, and I didn't have the time to make any, so my whipped cream got flavored with a mix of golden syrup and dry milk powder, which actually tasted quite nice.


I put them out at the bakery, but because I then ran off into a very busy week, I don't actually know how they did. If anyone had one, let me know what you thought. I would make them again, or make the recipe as a large angel food cake, if I ever get it together and get an angel food cake pan.

And yes, doubters, there are pieces of kitchen equipment I DON'T possess. Really.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Two Fat Cats Whoopie Pies

I liked these so much, I made them twice. Why do I like whoopie pies and not cupcakes? Isn't one just as trendy as the other? Simple answer: cake to frosting ratio. Real answer: Not sure, just do. So there. So I made them twice, once for the hardworking Polybe + Seats denizens setting up a benefit party, and once at the bakery on Friday morning. The first batch followed the recipe exactly, filling the pies with a vanilla 'marshmallow buttercream.' As I often do, I had a bit of trouble with the sugar syrup for the Italian meringue, and just a few lumps made it in. No one complained, probably because the cake was very very good. Probably so good it is my new go-to chocolate cupcake recipe. If I ever make chocolate cupcakes again.

My second batch, at the bakery, was less perfect as to cake--somehow the batter was just that tiny touch wetter, and spread too much, but featured the best Italian meringue I've yet made, to which I added strawberry puree for some pink-filled pies, which sold very well. I hate to say it, I'd like to be more elegant, but these will definitely be made again, and soon.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Banana Refrigerator Cake

Oh banana cake, delicious banana cake. You are just like rich banana bread. I didn't have my food processor with me at the bakery, so I mushed bananas and sour cream by hand, and did the rest with a hand mixer.

I didn't get wonderful pictures this week, but the cake was perfect, light and moist and sweet. I had a little more trouble with the frosting. I think it's difficult making frostings in such small quantities, harder to control temperatures, more finicky, especially when they involve a sugar syrup (see next week's wonderful whoopie pies...).

In this case though, I think I just didn't love the Dreamy Creamy White Chocolate Frosting, which is essentially a mix of sour cream, cream cheese, and white chocolate. My chocolate seized, giving it a slightly less dreamy creamy texture, but it did taste good.

Although I doubled the recipe for my two-layer cake, I realized that that still wasn't really enough to fill and frost, as this amount was just supposed to be spread on top. It wasn't looking so beautiful, so I added some wonky buttercream stars. All in all, not my best effort visually, but tasted great. Visuals count though, it wasn't that great a seller.


I think, ultimately, that this one isn't an elegant cake, and would be better served in the manner that one of my fellow bloggers seems to have done, sheet cake, with icing on top. Next week, we continue in the 'inelegant but tasty' category with whoopie pies, vanilla, and, if I get to it, raspberry.

Bid for Freedom

As I struggle under the schedule load, pushing at the walls of the house and the city, I see that I'm not the only one longing to break free.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Sicilian Pistachio Cake

That elegant cake? In the bakery case? Oh yes, that was me.

This week's heavenly cake was a soft buttery sour cream cake, filled with finely processed pistachios (from California, I admit). Made in a single layer, it was rich but not to excess, more austere than towering Magnolia-style cakes.
I never say this, but the cake was good and the frosting was better--an egg yolk swiss meringue, with golden syrup replacing corn syrup in the sugar solution. I avoided golden syrup for many years (not hard to do in the USA), because it seemed to me it would just taste sweet, with no nuance. I ultimately found out how wrong I was, it's robust without being cloying, almost salty in its hint of good good caramel. In fact, it's one of the only other syrups in the world that I don't think people are insane for putting on pancakes (let us not speak of Aunt Jemima here). I messed up the timing of the buttercream a bit, and it wound up with some chunks of chewy caramel embedded in the otherwise smooth cream, so when I wrote up the card, I called it a Pistachio Brickle Cake, and no one was the wiser (the little chunks were tasty).

The cake was a big hit with Lily and the bakery's customers, and by this morning was reduced to a few small squares put out for tasting. I forgot to bring the camera while I was making the cake, which was a pretty quick process, and so only have this stolen picture, but I promise process shots next week. Meanwhile, this could easily be my new birthday cake, if strawberry shortcake weren't so so persuasive. And doesn't it look pretty in that case, next to all of Lily's lovely cookies.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Chocolate Apricot Roll with Lacquer Glaze

When I took on the Heavenly Cakes, I knew it wasn't going to be all bundts and lemon syrup.

This week, the cake complexity took a wild leap and landed in the weeds of roulades, glazes, and all kinds of ways to beat chocolate with sugar--the Chocolate Apricot Roll with Lacquer glaze. This was also the first cake I've made at the bakery, where I've grown very comfortable baking bread, but had to learn my way around all over again in the sweet department.

The main trick of this cake is the separate creation of a number of parts, and then the perfectly timed assembly of said elements. It takes time, and some dexterity, and I have only a partial measure of each, so there were some errors. The final product, while very delicious and more or less elegant, could be improved by a few simple fixes that I learned as I went--too late for this time, but now I know. I don't know why I would expect anything so complicated to come out perfectly the first time.  My main flaw was probably impatience--at the bakery, my time is sometimes limited, and even when it isn't, I have no distractions to help me let things take their time, and often an incentive to clear a surface or finish a job quickly. As you'll see, these factors may have led me to rush this cake a bit.

This cake. This cake began with my first biscuit (bis-KWEE) roulade, a soft, flat sponge cake made on a half-sheet pan. The recipe was simple, although it has several steps. The biscuit is an eggy, butterless cake made with egg whites as the main leavener. There's plenty of whipping and folding, and at last it's all spread onto a lined half-sheet and baked very briefly. I'm still a bit unsure of what the bakery convection ovens will do to cooking times and browning, and I wound up taking the cake out after only 5 minutes of the recommended 8, because it was browned and seemed resilient. I might thus have slightly underbaked it, but only slightly, as the convection fans are powerful. However, I attribute any lack of firm height it later displayed to this underbake, and to a slight undercooling, I may not have let it take all of the time it needed as I needed to leave the bakery and get to my internship.

The ganache, too, lacked time to take its sweet time, because although I had intended to make it first, I had to leave it until second because I found I didn't know where the valve was on the stove in the bakery, and had to wait until Lily came in to show me (I'd guessed properly, but didn't want to take any chances).

Still, everything was looking pretty good as I worked my way through the five pages of the recipe. The apricot ganache went smoothly (I threw in a tablespoon of apricot filling instead of apricot brandy, and then I assembled the naked roll. Here, because I didn't let everything properly take its time, is where I believe the cake got a little squashed down and the ganache flowed as much as spread. I didn't make my own levkar, opting instead to use some stiff apricot filling that Lily had on hand, slightly moistened with water. The rolling was a little uneven, because the ganache was still flowing a bit, so the filling didn't end up entirely even, but it worked, a layer of apricot jam, a layer of ganache, roll that puppy up. I was impressed by how easily the soft cake rolled, as I'd always feared that would be the most difficult part of a roulade. I wasn't really thinking, though, of how close it is in nature to a crepe or pancake, which of course rolls easily.

At this point, I left my somewhat lumpy creation in the refrigerator, went to go catalogue news videos.

The next morning, as I set the bread to proof, I got to work on the lacquer glaze, which is the glaze on the cake on the cover of the book, and apparently a newish discovery (at least post-cake bible). The secret to its gloss is gelatin, whisked in at the last minute.I had some trouble with the glaze, which begins with melting some sugar and water over the stove. Although the sugar appeared melted, I feel that I may have left it a bit crunchy, which affected the liquidity of the whole. Next, cocoa is mixed into the sugar, which left it very stiff. Here is the place where I probably should have added a bit more water, but I was trying to follow the beaten path for once, and so I just put it back over the stovetop, whipped in cream, and brought almost to a boil. Then it cooled a bit, I whipped gelatin in, and there it was. When I saw the instruction to 'pour' the glaze over the cake, I knew there was a bit of an issue, as mine was more spreadable consistency. I spread it a bit, hoping it would magically smooth its gelatinized self out, but more predictably, it didn't, and I finally gave in, added more cream and a little heat to the remaining glaze, and had a thick, glossy finish to pour over the slightly lumpy log. It would have been better to avoid putting all the lumps on in the first place, as they didn't go away, but the finished product was satisfactorily slick and glossy.

I didn't get a great picture of the finished roll, and especially not of the middle, which was prettier, but here's what it looked like after I trimmed the ends.  And here below are the ends themselves, a sweet, chocolate-saturated, vaguely eastern European/Passover tasting creation. Lily was kind enough to humour me and put it in the case to sell--a few people even bought slices and liked it. Next time, more cooling for sponge and ganache, and more liquidity in the glaze, would make it perfect. The apricot faded into the background a bit under the chocolate avalanche, so next time I'd spring for the apricot liqueur to heighten the flavor.

But I no longer fear roulade.   

Getting There

I've been moving forward on solving my oven spring problems at the bakery. Last week, I used a combination of techniques, and was more satisfied with the loaves than I have been by any so far. They're still not perfect, but I did get a complement from a Swiss man. Bread complements from Europeans really count.

After some reading, I concluded that the problem was, as I suspected, the fan in the oven, which was drying out the surfaces of my bread before it had a chance to expand, keeping the crumb tight and doughy and causing frequent and unsightly blowouts. The fan can't be turned off while the oven is on, but based on the comments of others facing similar issues on the Fresh Loaf forum, I tried a few things to mitigate it. The three basic techniques were: using very wet dough (I made successful Pane Genzanese), overheating the oven and then actually turning it off for a few minutes after the dough went in (scary, and probably would be more successful if baking on a hearth or stone), and covering the loaves with mixing bowls for the first 20 minutes or so of baking.  The last option, although kind of time consuming and odd, works pretty well on the dual principle of protecting the loaves from the wind, and allowing them to steam themselves within the small space. The crusts weren't as crispy as if I had steamed them properly in the oven, and the method is kind of awkward, but the results were encouraging to say the least.


Last week I made Pane Genzanese, challah, oatmeal sunflower seed, and Hamelman's Vermont sourdough (now Brooklyn Sourdough), both plain and with pecans and raisins. I added a touch of extra commercial yeast to the raisin doughs to help support them.

Explosions. The Earth is Moving.

I love making bread at the bakery. I love getting up early and opening the chain gate, turning on the oven and the proofer, and spending hours alone with the giant mixer, and hours chatting with Lily. People seem to be buying and enjoying the bread, too, and I really appreciate that. But I'm having a technical problem that I can't seem to get the better of, one that almost never happens in my home oven.

No matter how well I score them, almost all of my loaves are exploding, some picturesquely, and some much less so. I've tried underproofing, over-proofing, nothing really seems to work. I've baked with and without a baking stone, and it didn't seem to make much difference. The only major difference between the bakery ovens and mine is that the bakery ovens have fans, which make them hotter and move air around better. My new theory is that the fanned air is drying out the score marks before the bread gets to the expansion point, making them useless. Yesterday, I tried re-scoring a loaf partway through the bake, and while it wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing solution, it did seem to work somewhat.

Anyone who knows something about bread, I could use some help here...oven too hot, too cold, ways to deal with the fan (it can't be turned off), improve steam, etc...Any ideas are welcome, it's starting to drive me crazy that I turn out picture perfect loaves at home and can't do the same for paying customers. (I know the taste is outstanding, though, and that keeps me going).

This week, Christmas got in the way of my usual night-before preparations, so I made Hamelman's pain au levain (floured) from scratch yesterday morning (compare to the previous post for some indication of my aesthetic issue), as well as his pate fermentee baguettes, to which I added sunflower seeds. I did half the recipe as country boules (front, with crosses) and half as actual baguettes. They were a bit twisty, but I was actually quite satisfied with them, and plan to try again, although Lily prefers to call them 'breadsticks' in deference to baguette purists.

Marketing

My first attempt at a little branding.

This is a mixed-flour miche using Hamelman's formula--a little dark and dense, but perfectly shaped. I'm kind of obsessed now and want to stencil everything.

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Weekend Bread

Here are some of the breads that I made at the bakery and at home this weekend.

Hamelman's formula for 'Vermont' sourdough.

Caraway seeded rye. This one, one of my favorite breads, was soundly ignored, at least until around 2pm on Sunday.

I'm still having trouble with my loaves bursting, which very rarely happens to me at home. I had thought it might be a problem with too little steam (no freezer at the bakery means no ice to throw in the oven), but for the Vermont sourdough my hypothesis is underproofing, because I slashed it very nicely indeed.

I also made a little bread to have at home--Leader's buttermilk bread, which he makes with currents but I like with dried apricots. Matt took some up to the neighbors, and came down about 20 minutes later with a napkinful of sourdough waffles.

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.

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.