STIR THE POTS

Apricot & Sage Bread

A few short stints at Amy Scherber's bakery one summer provided insight on the back-breaking work baking bread for a commercial bakery. At home, baking is much more luxurious, the only constraints a cramped NYC kitchen, an already-full bread box, and of course the wonderful question; "what should I bake next?"

That's a long way of introducing my latest adaption of Amy's signature loafs, in this case one with fennel, pine nuts and raisin bread. We actually serve it work, a big crowd pleaser and enjoyed with cheese or just drizzled with olive oil. It's also a bread I've made soley using levain.

Lately I've made a lot of wild fennel (finocchietto) loaves. This time I went for a favorite combination; apricots and dried sage. 

Short sauer

Serving in the U.S. Army in Germany, I always meant to get to Berlin. It never happened, so, in the meantime, I try to exact the science of a "kurz sauer, a sourdough Berliner bread. It's a path towards baking mildly acid loaf bread with a bit of commercial yeast, and one which is fairly quick.

I'd already  made a loaf without the added yeast, which, in effect, make it more of what's known as an "ein bisschen länger sauer," (a bit longer sourdough). I've used Nils version, still suffering from a learning curve with Dieter Buschman's sauerteigrechner (calculator for sourdough). If you're in a pickle for time, and you can imagine a bread perfect for sliced Westphalian ham or leberwurst, this is a good pick. A bit tacky from the amount of rye starter, but it's a friendly loaf from the mix to final bake.

Svenska frö bröd (Swedish seed bread)

For a while now I've been trying to make a decent seeded bread, something close to a "vollkornbrot." Checking on fellow blogger/author and baker Martin Johanssen's new site, he had a formula that seemed so simple with its barley and seeds.

Where usually you use hot or warm water on the proofer's seed mix, he found that once mixed, the seeds turned into mush and were almost indescernible when sliced. So Martin used cold water to soak his seeds, a familiar melange of sunflower, pumpkin, flax and  barley. When sliced, the seeds transformed into  a mosaic of a crumb.

The loaf is bound by a mix of rye, wheat, some bread syrup, (sugar beet syrup I purchased from Schaller Weber). Lacking flax, I added in quinoa to replace it. Let me say it's the best bread I've had in awhile. I still don't know if that goodness lies in the seeds or Martin's approach of overnight dought retarding, a method different than the usual quick-proofed variety of rye breads common in German baking tradition. The flavor is rich, sweet with a nutty chewiness of the darkened loaf, definitley a keeper!

 

 

Dans tout cochon réside un poète (in every pig resides a poet)

Yes, pigs - or pork - can have poetry, at least when done in the right pot. I spent the last few days exploring the rich satisfaction often found in dishes made with pork.  

First came pork tamales, a pre-Colombian delicacy of steamy corn masa, that I mixed with raisins, pork of course, olives, roasted peppers, kimchi, chilies and seasoning.

 

 

Second came stuffed cabbage (which I think of as a Hungarian peasant dish brought from the invading Genghis Khan and his nomadic horseman) and that I make with both fresh and fermented cabbage along with smoked pork. 

 

Third, came a dish from Alsace, which skirts the border of France and Germany, and where I lived for a few years as a kid. Being blessed with a superb butcher in my neighborhood, I can induldge in childhood memories of tastebud varieties using pork, and a dish that's good with wine or beer. 

 

 

Two of these dishes enrobe pork, highlight it, the last one is smothered in fermented cabbage that absorbs the goodness which the pig has given us, via slow cooked foods that steam.

Atta Way

The last time I made a pane di altamura, I used kamut flour rather than the recipe's preferred ingredient of durum, or semolina rimacinata. And while I'm a big fan of semolina, again I am fond of playing with alternatives, in this case a flour alternative to semolina rimacinata.

Baking a "biga naturale" bread, a loaf I would normally use semolina rimacinata , I opted to use Golden Temple Atta flour, a Canadian brand of whole durum flour with bran. It's easily found in most Indian groceries, of which my neighborhood has many. Anyway, durum is a higher protein flour and often confused with semolina  which isused in making pasta, and is a coarser grind.

 

Mixing this flour takes more time. It also has a different temperment than white flour. But you could substitute  a percentage of it for white flour, or go totally durum.

My latest bake was adapted ever so slightly from Chad Robetson's Tartine book. I found a link bread app calculator at El Amasedero, benefit of my friend Javier Marca. I basically used the recipe's percentages, but adapted it to  my own  levain, using  Gregoire Michaud's grape version. As well, I added in some floral and wild finocchietto salvatica, which is amazing, so different from the usual domestic fennel you find on the store shelves.

Finocchietto salvatica (Wild Fennel)

While perusing my local salumeria for sopresseta in Astoria, I saw a packet of seeds for Sicilian wild fennel. It reminded me that I have a small jar of the same seeds at home, the product known as "finocchietto salvatico from Sicilia."

These tiny seeds are explosive, a strange mixture of fennel with nuances of anise (virtually cousins), and flavors that are both sweet and deep, a bit like liquorice. You find it used in sweet confections, but I've already introduced into my favorite bread; currant anise with a desem starter.

In addition, I'm contemplating putting it in a Easter Bread recipe I have for Pane Genovese, too. Stay tuned!

The Proofer

How often do you get, what bakers sometimes call "blow out," referring to when a bread is "green" or too young or just not proofed enough. I've found it especially true in winter. 

Despite our lack of recent frost, I hit that wall with temperatures and baking this weekend. Cold air and sourdough are especially tricky. A "proofer" is a type of baking hardware that helps address such difficulties, and this weekend, Brod and Taylor, an interesting and innovative cookware design company, sent me their newest creation, a smartly designed (foldable!) proofer. 

Straight from the package, the valise styled proofer was simple to assemble. Even had they not provided instructions, the product was basically "plug and play," intuitive to put together. That said, I think the instructions could use some diagrams, for those among us with less basic intuition. More importantly. I could imagine them providing tables regarding temperatures for proofing, especially for wild yeasts. Giving their marketing director, Julie Dykstra, initial feedback, she kindly sent me this response by email. 

"We are in the process of upgrading the user guide to include more recipes and detailed instructions.  We've just this week posted a pizza crust recipe with detailed proofer time/temps, it's here:  http://brodandtaylor.com/bread-more/bread/tomato-and-herb-pizza/

Anyway, the advantage of their product is it shortens the waiting time of the proofing process. It also reduces the ugly looking loaves I described as a result of "blowout."

Here's something interesting. Since recieving and using the proofer, I have returned to using a thermometer, pretty important if you only depend on touch for indication. 

Anyway, here is one loaf I made so far with durum flour.

 So far, pretty good. In coming weeks, I'll provide updates on my experience with this interesting new device.  

Edit this

Recently, looking at a recipe for buckwheat levain bread from Dan Leader's book, Local Breads, I found online complaints about its percentages on the blog, The Fresh Loaf. I don't want to single out Dan Leader. He's a great baker, and also both honest and generous, as he was here, giving us an interview, and talking about the periodic mistakes made in the editorial process. From my experience, the editing in baking and cook books too often can get things wrong. 

Another top baker, for example, Jeffrey Hamelman ended up correcting one of his books with an errata sheet. And the latest book purchase I made, The French Culinary Institute's bread baking fundamentals book, has errors within the first chapter; its liquid levain baguette recipe has a percentage which is off about 30 percent. I found out by checking the math.

All to say, enjoy the recipes. But also, always read carefully, then do the math. If you find errors, and if you're informed on how baker's percentages work, try adjusting the formula. If all else fails, send an email to the editor or author (including me), because often you'll find honorable figures like Dan Leader or Jeffrey Hamelman, people who are passionate about their craft.