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Aug. 1st, 2008 09:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coraaAbout two days ago, I made a loaf of white bread as a trial loaf for my bread-a-month recipient. It came out beautifully -- recipe is:
Ordinary Crisp-Crust White Bread
For one loaf. Makes a glossy, crisp-crusted white bread with a fairly close crumb (ie, it doesn't have the big-holed rustic loaf look).
* 1 cup water
* 1 tsp sugar
* 1 packet active dry yeast
* 2 1/2 to 3 cups flour
* 1 tbsp salt
* 1-2 tbsp vegetable oil, any type
* 1 egg
In a large bowl, dissolve the sugar in the water, and then scatter the yeast on top. (Best if the water is filtered and lukewarm; if you can't do filtered, just do lukewarm; if you can't do either, the bread will live.) Leave about five minutes. At the end, the yeast will be beginning to bubble, or at least it should be. (It's more likely to do so if it's not freezing cold.) If it isn't bubbly at all, there's a chance the yeast is dead; you can leave it a bit longer and/or give it a touch more sugar and see, or you can assume your yeast is alive and proceed.
(A note on the sugar. Some purists will tell you that proper bread is just flour, water and salt. I think that proper bread can have oatmeal and jalapenos in it, if you want, but if you are such a purist, you can omit the sugar. The yeast will just be a little less reliably active, since it won't have as much readily-available food.)
Begin to add the flour by half-cups. The trick here is that the amount of flour you need is really hard to determine, especially by volume. (Which is why professional baking recipes are almost always by weight. I was just too lazy to weigh this out to figure out how much I used.) It will depend on how densely the flour is packed in the cups, how much moisture is in the flour, how much moisture is in the air, et cetera, et cetera. So what you do is add the flour by half-cups until it reaches about the right texture.
But before you get there, when the dough is still wet and stirable, add the salt. Then continue adding flour until the dough holds together into a ball. It shouldn't be totally dry, but it should be sufficiently dry that it doesn't stick too much to your hands when you try to work it, which will be important when you're kneading. Toward the end, you might need to mix the flour in by hand, because it'll be getting too stiff to work with a spoon.
When it's mostly-dry, holds into a ball, and can be handled without being too sticky, dump the lump of dough out onto a floured work surface and basically pummel it to death. It's technically possible to overknead dough, but if you're working by hand it's unlikely, unless you have automail arms or something. I usually knead for about ten minutes (or about three songs on my iPod, since a song with a good fast beat helps me knead, and also keeps me from getting bored). If you have a mixer with a dough hook, you can use that. I often use my bread machine for kneading, even though I mix and shape the dough myself, because it doesn't get tired.
When the bread is well-kneaded, put it in a bowl in which you've put a few tablespoons of oil, then flip it over so the top is oiled. This is just to keep the dough from drying out while it rises, so it doesn't matter what kind of oil you use. I've used canola oil, olive oil, even melted butter. (I wouldn't recommend WD-40, though.) Let it rise until doubled. A good way to tell is that, when it's well and truly doubled, if you press your finger into it, it will make a nice deep dent that doesn't fill in right away. It should take one to two hours, depending on how warm the area is where you're proofing and how active the yeast is. (If you omitted the sugar, it will probably take longer.) When I was an impatient teenager, I'd put it on top of the fridge or sometimes right over one of our forced-air heating vents. (Nowadays the problem is generally more in remembering it before it overrises....)
Punch down the dough to drive out the gas, and then turn it out again. I made a sort of short, fat baguette, so I pressed it out into sort of a square (about 1-inch thick, ish) and then took one edge and started to roll it up like a jelly roll. This left me with a tight, neat loaf shape. You can also sort of form it into a ball for a round boule loaf, or shape it into an oblong and drop it into a loaf pan. Doesn't make a huge difference.
Now you let it rise one more time, for about an hour. Fifteen to twenty minutes before the end of the hour, turn the oven to 350F to pre-heat. When the rise is done, use a very sharp knife to score the top of the loaf three or four times. You'll want to score it with quick, light strokes; don't mash it and undo all the rising you just did. (This isn't strictly necessary, but it does help keep your bread from cracking when it bakes and expands. Also, it's pretty.)
Put the loaf in the oven and let it bake. After, oh, 20 or so minutes, get a little bowl and put the egg in it with a small splash of water (a tablespoon or two), and mix it up until the yolk is broken and it's well-combined. Then pull the loaf out of the oven temporarily and brush the top all over with egg solution. If you have a pastry brush, this is exactly what a pastry brush is for. If you don't have a pastry brush, no worries -- drizzle it on with a spoon and rub it around with the spoon back, or use the edge of a clean piece of paper towel to spread the egg, or whatever. You just want an even coat of egg wash all over the top of the bread. A bit thick is better than patchy, so don't stint.
(Many recipes would have you put the egg wash on the bread before you put it in the oven in the first place, and you certainly can do that. I just find that a) exuberantly egg-ing the bread before a crust has formed sometimes means I accidentally deflate the poor loaf, and b) the longer the egg is in the oven, the more likely it is to scorch. Mileage varies.)
Now put the bread back in the oven and continue to bake. Ideally the bread should reach 205F-210F. Yes, I use a thermometer. That's because I'm a dork. If you do not have a probe thermometer, or are not a dork, you can do what my mom does, which is this: pick the loaf up, thump the bottom, and see if it sounds hollow. This should take 40 minutes to an hour. The bread should be brown and quite glossy, but not burnt.
If you have willpower, it's best to let it cool fully before you slice it. I usually don't.
My loaf looked like this:
(I wish I'd thought to get a picture before I cut it up -- it was a really pretty shape, very glossy. Oh well.)
So then we had a loaf of bread, but as of tonight we'd only eaten a few slices. I didn't want it to go stale, so I sliced the rest of it up and made a sort of bruschetta, tapenade-inspired dinner. Basically, toast, and things to put on toast.
I sliced the rest of the loaf thinly, spread a little olive oil on each slice and ran it under the broiler for about three minutes, until it was golden-brown and crisp. Then I served it with red wine and the following toppings/sides, in little bowls:
* sliced salami
* sliced sharp cheddar
* pickled herring
* dill pickles
* olive tapenade (recipe follows)
* horseradish cream cheese (recipe follows)
* broiled chevre (recipe, inasmuch as it is a recipe, follows)
Olive Tapenade
* 12-15 black olives, any kind you like
* 1 tbsp capers
* 2 tbsp tomato paste
* 2 tbsp anchovy paste
* 1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil (the nice stuff, if you have it)
Chop the olives as finely as you want. A lot of tapenades are very finely chopped -- almost a puree. I prefer some sizeable chunks of olives remaining. The beauty of this is that you can do it however you like.
Dump the olives in a bowl and add everything else. Stir well to combine.
Variations: If you're swanky, you can use actual minced anchovy fillets. If you're vegetarian, you can skip the anchovy altogether. (In that case, a small splash of soy sauce -- no more than, say, a teaspoon -- would not go amiss.) A little ground black pepper is good. A minced clove of garlic is very good, if you're feeling less lazy than me. The olive oil adds a nice richness and smoothness, but if you don't have good olive or don't want to add the fat, it can be taken out of the recipe without harming anything.
Horseradish Cream Cheese
Okay, I realize this sounds weird, but both the boy and I love horseradish, so I wanted a vehicle to spread it on bread. It's also very not low fat.
* 1/4 cup cream cheese
* 2 tbsp cream or half and half
* 2 tbsp yogurt or sour cream
* 4-5 tbsp grated horseradish, or more if you like a lot of kick
* 1 stalk green onion, minced fine
In a small bowl, mash the cream cheese with the back of a fork to loosen it up. Blend in the sour cream and half and half, until the mixture is soft. Then blend in the horseradish and green onion. The longer this sits before serving, the spicier it will be....
Broiled Chevre
* 1/4 cup chevre cheese
Put the chevre in a broiler-safe pan. I used my 6-inch cast iron pan, but anything that can take the heat will do. Put under the broiler, fairly close, for 2 minutes. Check it, and continue to cook, adding one minute at a time, until the cheese is bubbly and melty all over the outside and is just starting to brown on top. Remove from the broiler, replate to a serving dish, and serve immediately.
It was, predictably, too much food. In the future I'd do either the salami or the pickled herring, but not both, and either the horseradish cream cheese or the chevre, but not both. Stlil, now we have brunch for tomorrow, and it was very good.
As I pointed out to the boy, there wasn't a thing on the menu that wasn't salted, pickled, cured, or fermented (except the horseradish cream cheese). It's the kind of meal you could have eaten before refrigeration. Which means it's peculiarly unsuited for summer -- a season when fresh produce is very available -- and yet it's also a good summer meal because it requires almost no cooking, and is cool and sharp and refreshing to eat.
Ordinary Crisp-Crust White Bread
For one loaf. Makes a glossy, crisp-crusted white bread with a fairly close crumb (ie, it doesn't have the big-holed rustic loaf look).
* 1 cup water
* 1 tsp sugar
* 1 packet active dry yeast
* 2 1/2 to 3 cups flour
* 1 tbsp salt
* 1-2 tbsp vegetable oil, any type
* 1 egg
In a large bowl, dissolve the sugar in the water, and then scatter the yeast on top. (Best if the water is filtered and lukewarm; if you can't do filtered, just do lukewarm; if you can't do either, the bread will live.) Leave about five minutes. At the end, the yeast will be beginning to bubble, or at least it should be. (It's more likely to do so if it's not freezing cold.) If it isn't bubbly at all, there's a chance the yeast is dead; you can leave it a bit longer and/or give it a touch more sugar and see, or you can assume your yeast is alive and proceed.
(A note on the sugar. Some purists will tell you that proper bread is just flour, water and salt. I think that proper bread can have oatmeal and jalapenos in it, if you want, but if you are such a purist, you can omit the sugar. The yeast will just be a little less reliably active, since it won't have as much readily-available food.)
Begin to add the flour by half-cups. The trick here is that the amount of flour you need is really hard to determine, especially by volume. (Which is why professional baking recipes are almost always by weight. I was just too lazy to weigh this out to figure out how much I used.) It will depend on how densely the flour is packed in the cups, how much moisture is in the flour, how much moisture is in the air, et cetera, et cetera. So what you do is add the flour by half-cups until it reaches about the right texture.
But before you get there, when the dough is still wet and stirable, add the salt. Then continue adding flour until the dough holds together into a ball. It shouldn't be totally dry, but it should be sufficiently dry that it doesn't stick too much to your hands when you try to work it, which will be important when you're kneading. Toward the end, you might need to mix the flour in by hand, because it'll be getting too stiff to work with a spoon.
When it's mostly-dry, holds into a ball, and can be handled without being too sticky, dump the lump of dough out onto a floured work surface and basically pummel it to death. It's technically possible to overknead dough, but if you're working by hand it's unlikely, unless you have automail arms or something. I usually knead for about ten minutes (or about three songs on my iPod, since a song with a good fast beat helps me knead, and also keeps me from getting bored). If you have a mixer with a dough hook, you can use that. I often use my bread machine for kneading, even though I mix and shape the dough myself, because it doesn't get tired.
When the bread is well-kneaded, put it in a bowl in which you've put a few tablespoons of oil, then flip it over so the top is oiled. This is just to keep the dough from drying out while it rises, so it doesn't matter what kind of oil you use. I've used canola oil, olive oil, even melted butter. (I wouldn't recommend WD-40, though.) Let it rise until doubled. A good way to tell is that, when it's well and truly doubled, if you press your finger into it, it will make a nice deep dent that doesn't fill in right away. It should take one to two hours, depending on how warm the area is where you're proofing and how active the yeast is. (If you omitted the sugar, it will probably take longer.) When I was an impatient teenager, I'd put it on top of the fridge or sometimes right over one of our forced-air heating vents. (Nowadays the problem is generally more in remembering it before it overrises....)
Punch down the dough to drive out the gas, and then turn it out again. I made a sort of short, fat baguette, so I pressed it out into sort of a square (about 1-inch thick, ish) and then took one edge and started to roll it up like a jelly roll. This left me with a tight, neat loaf shape. You can also sort of form it into a ball for a round boule loaf, or shape it into an oblong and drop it into a loaf pan. Doesn't make a huge difference.
Now you let it rise one more time, for about an hour. Fifteen to twenty minutes before the end of the hour, turn the oven to 350F to pre-heat. When the rise is done, use a very sharp knife to score the top of the loaf three or four times. You'll want to score it with quick, light strokes; don't mash it and undo all the rising you just did. (This isn't strictly necessary, but it does help keep your bread from cracking when it bakes and expands. Also, it's pretty.)
Put the loaf in the oven and let it bake. After, oh, 20 or so minutes, get a little bowl and put the egg in it with a small splash of water (a tablespoon or two), and mix it up until the yolk is broken and it's well-combined. Then pull the loaf out of the oven temporarily and brush the top all over with egg solution. If you have a pastry brush, this is exactly what a pastry brush is for. If you don't have a pastry brush, no worries -- drizzle it on with a spoon and rub it around with the spoon back, or use the edge of a clean piece of paper towel to spread the egg, or whatever. You just want an even coat of egg wash all over the top of the bread. A bit thick is better than patchy, so don't stint.
(Many recipes would have you put the egg wash on the bread before you put it in the oven in the first place, and you certainly can do that. I just find that a) exuberantly egg-ing the bread before a crust has formed sometimes means I accidentally deflate the poor loaf, and b) the longer the egg is in the oven, the more likely it is to scorch. Mileage varies.)
Now put the bread back in the oven and continue to bake. Ideally the bread should reach 205F-210F. Yes, I use a thermometer. That's because I'm a dork. If you do not have a probe thermometer, or are not a dork, you can do what my mom does, which is this: pick the loaf up, thump the bottom, and see if it sounds hollow. This should take 40 minutes to an hour. The bread should be brown and quite glossy, but not burnt.
If you have willpower, it's best to let it cool fully before you slice it. I usually don't.
My loaf looked like this:
(I wish I'd thought to get a picture before I cut it up -- it was a really pretty shape, very glossy. Oh well.)
So then we had a loaf of bread, but as of tonight we'd only eaten a few slices. I didn't want it to go stale, so I sliced the rest of it up and made a sort of bruschetta, tapenade-inspired dinner. Basically, toast, and things to put on toast.
I sliced the rest of the loaf thinly, spread a little olive oil on each slice and ran it under the broiler for about three minutes, until it was golden-brown and crisp. Then I served it with red wine and the following toppings/sides, in little bowls:
* sliced salami
* sliced sharp cheddar
* pickled herring
* dill pickles
* olive tapenade (recipe follows)
* horseradish cream cheese (recipe follows)
* broiled chevre (recipe, inasmuch as it is a recipe, follows)
Olive Tapenade
* 12-15 black olives, any kind you like
* 1 tbsp capers
* 2 tbsp tomato paste
* 2 tbsp anchovy paste
* 1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil (the nice stuff, if you have it)
Chop the olives as finely as you want. A lot of tapenades are very finely chopped -- almost a puree. I prefer some sizeable chunks of olives remaining. The beauty of this is that you can do it however you like.
Dump the olives in a bowl and add everything else. Stir well to combine.
Variations: If you're swanky, you can use actual minced anchovy fillets. If you're vegetarian, you can skip the anchovy altogether. (In that case, a small splash of soy sauce -- no more than, say, a teaspoon -- would not go amiss.) A little ground black pepper is good. A minced clove of garlic is very good, if you're feeling less lazy than me. The olive oil adds a nice richness and smoothness, but if you don't have good olive or don't want to add the fat, it can be taken out of the recipe without harming anything.
Horseradish Cream Cheese
Okay, I realize this sounds weird, but both the boy and I love horseradish, so I wanted a vehicle to spread it on bread. It's also very not low fat.
* 1/4 cup cream cheese
* 2 tbsp cream or half and half
* 2 tbsp yogurt or sour cream
* 4-5 tbsp grated horseradish, or more if you like a lot of kick
* 1 stalk green onion, minced fine
In a small bowl, mash the cream cheese with the back of a fork to loosen it up. Blend in the sour cream and half and half, until the mixture is soft. Then blend in the horseradish and green onion. The longer this sits before serving, the spicier it will be....
Broiled Chevre
* 1/4 cup chevre cheese
Put the chevre in a broiler-safe pan. I used my 6-inch cast iron pan, but anything that can take the heat will do. Put under the broiler, fairly close, for 2 minutes. Check it, and continue to cook, adding one minute at a time, until the cheese is bubbly and melty all over the outside and is just starting to brown on top. Remove from the broiler, replate to a serving dish, and serve immediately.
It was, predictably, too much food. In the future I'd do either the salami or the pickled herring, but not both, and either the horseradish cream cheese or the chevre, but not both. Stlil, now we have brunch for tomorrow, and it was very good.
As I pointed out to the boy, there wasn't a thing on the menu that wasn't salted, pickled, cured, or fermented (except the horseradish cream cheese). It's the kind of meal you could have eaten before refrigeration. Which means it's peculiarly unsuited for summer -- a season when fresh produce is very available -- and yet it's also a good summer meal because it requires almost no cooking, and is cool and sharp and refreshing to eat.
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Date: 2008-08-02 01:57 pm (UTC)The loaf of bread is beautiful!
I find that I also eat a lot of salty-fishie-pickley stuff and cheese (but usually on crackers) during the summer. I find myself shopping primarily at the .99 stores because they have all this wonderful canned fish/scallops/mussels and crackers. But I'm not sure I would want to do anything to such a luscious loaf, but toast it and top it off with a little butter.
I wonder if the some of the pickled items are also good summer food because they don't spoil being transported about in the heat.