Burntloafer

Beer Bread, like it's namesake, leaves regrets.

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 23:36:00 +0000

So I was a bit behind with the breads over at Mellow Bakers.

I had somehow forgotten to post the bagels, and worse yet, I was struggling with the Beer Bread. I set the barley seeds to sprout three times, and apart from a very interesting smell to the cupboard, I was rewarded with mold each time.

I planted a few seeds in the Darling Bride's flower beds, so right up until the point that she weeded them out I had proof of viability.

Anyway, I thought I would substitute pearled barley instead, and add a little malt powder for the flavor. I cut the recipe in half, since I am not sure how much will get eaten this week. I set the pearled barley in a cup of water and microwaved it until it seemed pretty soft.

And as often, when you take short cuts, it was mediocre.

It looks good. It tastes OK.

But I was expecting more, so I will have to take an "F" for this project and try it again.

Well, maybe not an "F".

Maybe 'incomplete' is more like it.

Do-over!!!

Hamelman's 40% Rye with Caraway

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sun, 08 Aug 2010 18:55:00 +0000

This is going to be a quick post, as I am pressed for time. But trust me, I did it by the book. I have all the boring scale pictures here, but not labeled, so... ...I think I will just skip it, and go right to the preferment:
.

It was made with a fairly stiff preferment which was held for the full 16 hours.

It did not want to readily fall out of the bowl, so a spatula was used to pry it out.

This bread is a stronger version of the Light Rye, and I made it with the full measure of caraway. I should have waited and gotten some poppy seed or black onion seed for the top, as my friend Joanne suggested. But I was home with the dogs and no car, so I just made it.

And that Joanne is none other than the famous Joanne from Zeb Bakes.

Hey, I am not above dropping a famous name or two. Like, say Abby, or Oggi.

You can find a whole list of good blogger bakers over at Mellow Bakers.

And it is very good indeed; just not quite as good as the light rye.

It is still wonderful bread!

I am getting spoiled, though.

And I have two very impatient gals, waiting for a walk. Bye!

Thank you. Thank you. We all thank you...

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sun, 08 Aug 2010 18:03:00 +0000

That Darling Bride just does not understand.

There is Real Food, which Emma and Phoebe (hereinafter referred to as 'the Girls') expect to eat.

Nay, demand is a better word.

Real Food is the stuff that they eat with the Darling Bride, whenever and anytime that she eats. It is what they eat with The Ice Cream Lady on trips up to the lake. It is what they used to eat with Burntloafer when he would go hunting or fishing, but that seems like a distant memory at this point.

The point here is that the girls like and expect real food.

And then there is - eww - Dog Food. Dog Food is the stuff they bring you between meals, as noted above. It is the stuff that the humans leave in nasty old bowls on the floor, next to an equally nasty bowl of tepid water. The Girls treat Dog Food in very much the manner in which it is presented.

Woof there it is... Woof there it is...

Whoever made that song has probably sampled the dog food.

Actually, they treat dog food in much the same way that their old pet Burntloafer treats a Salad. Dog Food and Salads are just what they bring to you between meals of Real Food.

So back to the Darling Bride. She went away and left the girls with no one to feed them but old Burntloafer, and he seems much more interested in feeding the neighbors than taking the proper care of the Girls. The Darling Bride knew that they would be stuck here with that old man, and she knew that they would get hungry, since Burntloafer has never fed them while he eats. For that matter, he seldom even feeds them the same things that he eats.

He was obviously raised without the benefit of proper manners, and seldom shares with others. The whelp!

Darling Bride took note of the fact that the Girls are now 'Mature' Dogs, as they are over 13 years old, and in times past, she has let a sales lady sell her "Senior Maintenance" designer dog food. But before Darling Bride left for her trip, she made an even bigger mistake.

She bought them "Low Calorie Reducing Senior Dog Food"!

And so, Dear Reader, you must know that the girls would refuse to eat it. Period.

It is not like the dog biscuits they get from the drive through window at the bank. As any properly raised and polite dog knows, you simply take that very delicately and spit it onto the floor of the car, so as to make it clear to the bankers that they ought to know better than to hand out cheap Milk Bone knock offs. Those, you can always go back and eat when you are safely out of sight of the Tellers - if you have to.

This new stuff, though, is just bad stuff, and not fit for well bred dogs such as the Girls.

After several days, even Burntloafer knew there was a problem. He is a thick headed old fool, but eventually even he noticed that they were on a hunger strike. And he noted to himself that he had only one way to get to the store, and that was on a bicycle. The thought of such a fat old man on a bike, trying to carry a bag of dog food that was at best akin to salad made them sigh, scratch at the pillows, and go back to sleep. Let their stomachs rumble. No one cares. Sigh.

Then old Burntloafer had an idea. Since Gladass was feeling neglected as well, what with all the straight yeast breads lately over at the Mellow Bakers, he remembered that he had seen something very interesting on a post called Wild Yeast. That was a recipe for Sour Dough Dog Biscuits. He had everything needed except for an egg and vegetable bouillon, but those were easily substituted with Miracle Whip and Beef Bouillon. Whoo hoo!

For an old guy, that Burntloafer really set right to work.

He dutifully made the dough, measuring carefully. The Nice Lady at Wild Yeast had even made the recipe in grams, so it was easy to follow.

And soon. the house smelled good again, with the particular aroma of Real Food. Now, they thought, if they could only wait until nightfall and sneak back down to get whatever that old guy was baking...

It even had the look and smell of real food!

...and he made enough to last at least two days!

The girls waited patiently, never being so rude as to come right out and object, but they had their ways of letting the old man know that they were not happy with this situation. They would not even look at him.

That should show him.

But wait!

What's that smell?

Could it be?

He did! He gave us something we can eat!

It's about time!

Thank you, Wild Yeast Lady!

Thank You!

Double down!

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sat, 07 Aug 2010 00:49:00 +0000

Double down... ...let's just say that I am a poor excuse for a gambler, but I am learning when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em.

What? You didn't see that coming?

OK, so there had been a bit of a problem with the Twin French loaves last time. The problem being that no one could not tell the difference between the baguette with poolish and the baguette with pate fermentee.

Yeah, there was that little issue of garlic scape butter, and trust me, that stuff would have made warm cardboard taste darned good. But still, I had given some to the neighbors, sans garlic, and it did not seem to matter. No one seemed able to taste the difference.

And trust me, at this point they are not as bashful about saying what they like and dislike. For instance, the Twin Boys next door. "Hey Mister Steve, when are you gonna make me a banana creme pie?" , says Twin Number One. Followed by Twin Number Two saying, " Forget him, I am older and I want pecan pie."

They have quite gotten over the issue of shyness around me, and I am very pleased and satisfied by that fact. These are boy's boys, through and through. They love to play in the dirt, and if it is wet dirt, as in a muddy old river, they are even happier.

Anyway, that was a bit of a tangent. What was my point?

Oh, yes, to explain that, if there was a difference between the two breads, they would have had no hesitation in telling me so. At. All.

So today, we would do it again. And of course, as long as it is going down, why not add some plain french bread and some of my old sourdough standby? Sounds like a plan. But this time it would be done by the book. No more cups and hand full; this time, the scale would find good use.

Before being introduced to the Mellow Bakers, the sourdough was my reliable old standby for French of baguette bread. Because of a book called "Ratios", this was the recipe that was used the most in our household for French baguettes.

Five parts flour, three parts water, two parts starter, and one Tablespoon of Kosher salt. I made a lot of it, and people liked it.

I liked it!

The plain French bread is from Hamelman's 'Bread' book, page 233.

It is a straight yeast bread, and it gets it flavor from a long bulk ferment time. Good stuff, but it gets a bit of a bad reputation because, as Hamelman himself admits, he likes the fuller flavor of a pre-ferment bread.

But, I liked it!

The baguette with poolish is from page 101.

The poolish was dutifully started last night by adding flour,

water, and a little yeast, mixing well, and setting it to wait for at least 12 hours. This time it was clearly marked, even using radically different bowls for each preferment.

The baguette with pate fermentee is from page 103.

The pate fermentee- ( Aw, come on. I hereby proclaim it to be 'fermented dough' from this point on!)

The fermented dough was dutifully started last night by adding flour

with water and salt and yeast.

As you can see, it is definitely
a much stiffer base to start from.

Again, it was clearly marked and was set off to work.

While yours truly set off to sleep, perchance to dream.

This morning - well, it was still morning after all, even if it was not the usual 5:30 a.m. - the breads were mixed and set out for bulk fermentation.

For the poolish dough, the flour

and water

were mixed with salt and yeast and the poolish was was added in as well.

Want a better look at

the consistency? It was a large sponge-like mass. Smelled great!

For the fermented dough, the flour

and water were mixed with salt and yeast, but then the fermented dough was added in.

This was indeed a different beast, at least in shape and form.

Then, off to the screen porch for bulk ferment. An hour later, each yeast-based bread got a fold. An hour later, another.

The 5-3-2 sourdough prefers not to play the same games as the other breads. Understood, and with some amount of empathy on my part as well.

Then it was time to form and final proof the poolish.

It was set in two batches, as there is only one baguette pan in my house. I am already getting suggestions to reduce. I was really happy to find out it was not my waistline she meant - this time.

The cake sheet helps capture stray sesame seeds.

And it was starting to look a little scorched after only twenty minutes at 455 F.

Ol' Luke is like that, flaring up like an alcoholic relative after New Year's Eve.

And here is the first outcome, one right side up and one upside down to show those all-important 'dots'.

Next, the plain vanilla French bread goes in...

(Probably shouldn't use that phrase in a cooking post, huh?)

Correction, the plain French bread goes into the oven.
It was a lot harder to score that the prefermented breads, but I still had hope. Besides, there is always that garlic scape butter, calling to me from the fridge.

Honestly, it is becoming an addiction.
But I have not seen any vampires.

And here are the two loaves of plain French bread.
I had only made a half batch of this and the sourdough, since I wanted to make sure that the neighbors would still be willing accomplices to the taste-testing.

I will have two complete sets of four types, with two poolish and two pate, er - fermented dough loaves for myself and the neighbors down the road. Hey, you never know when they will see me walking around delivering bread in my shorts, tennis shoes, and a tee shirt.

Wrapped and numbered for delivery...

...you will notice that there are no number 4's. On purpose!

Finally, and for sure a lot later, my old stand by sourdough came off the super-peel onto the baguette pan. I could handle the other doughs, but that sourdough stuff can be like sub-floor adhesive; some of the best glue out there.

But I'm gonna keep those sourdough; I tried it, and I still like the sourdough the best!

Some of these neighbors have hinted, rather broadly, that they are starting to feel 'left out'. Boy, they don't know the half of it. The neighbor to the north has gone on a diet since this whole bread baking thing got underway.

Coincidence?

I can only hope!

Here are the loaves made with fermented dough.

It will be interesting to hear what they all think of the differences. For myself, I can only say that I like them all.

Good thing I have lots of willing neighbors.

What's that? Oh, sorry, Emma and Phoebe. You have been more help than I could have hoped, my thirteen year old puppies!

Yeah, OK, you get some, too.

Of course.

What?
More?

Tomorrow I will update this with the results, if there are any!

Twin French Breads

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 16:16:00 +0000

For August, the Mellow Bakers are making two styles of French bread. One starts with a poolish of flour and yeast and water, the other has salt added to the pre-ferment.

I thought I would make the French bread with poolish and the French bread with pate fermente at the same time. It seemed, at the time, like a reasonable way to compare them. But without thinking, I placed them both in similar bowls, right next to each other on the three season porch.

But the first thing that I forgot was to mark the pre-ferment. Hey - I was busy. So, the next morning, when it was time for the bake, I simply tasted the two pre-ferments. The simply poolish would not have any salt in it, and as I expected this was a good way to distinguish between the two bowls, which otherwise looked the same to my blood-shot eyes.

So then eventually I had to let them get a final proof in sets of three on my baguette pan. It seemed like a good plan as well, you know, to get those little 'dots' on the bottom. The problem was that I did not account for how much rise there would be, and the loaves bled into on another, all along the sides. It reminded me of a very large focaccia with 'dots' on the bottom. I obviously was not thinking.

When I groused about it, the Darling Bride simply said, " If they are rising that much, just do them over and only put two loaves in the three ridge pan.' I hate it when she points out the obvious like that.

Sort of.

No, actually, I find it really endearing, but only when she is right.

Of course, I can't let on.

But it meant that I would either be combining the 'extra' dough again, or doing something with the middle loaf. I decided that since I was in such a mad rush to make so many loaves, I would do the final proof for the Pate fermente style on sheet pans with some corn meal, and without thinking (notice that recurring theme?) I combined the two supposedly different recipes.

I thought I could tell the difference, because that middle loaf that I had pulled off the baguette pan was divided into two shorter loaves. It would now be noticeably shorter.

OK, so it was not that much shorter. Before long I had both types combined, my weak little mind just could not keep it together.

It thought that since they were going to be going to Sister Demeter's house I would have a group of willing victims - er - I mean willing, experienced food critics to tell the difference between the two types.

Long story short, no one, including me, could tell the difference.

And it did not help that Demeter's Love Slave had made some garlic scape butter. It was awesome, really made the bread wonderful. We ate a lot of French bread, slathered with DLS's garlic butter, to accompany a fine meal of fresh veggies and chicken kabobs, which DLS had grilled to perfection. Followed by fresh Door County cherry pie, lemon pie (there is one in the background) and even watermelon that Son of Demeter had provided. We were all stuffed to the gills, and no one could tell one type of bread from another.

"Well, try them again."

"No way - can't eat any more - too full."

"Urp"

It was a typical meal at Demeter's house. Even the dogs were full.

But I got the desired 'dots', by golly.

And I still have some neighbors to check with. as well. I think that I gave them different kinds. Hopefully.

I will ask, and if anyone thinks that there was a difference, I will report back and make them again.

To the best of my beer palate ability, there was very little difference between the two types of French bread.

But then, all I can taste this Monday is garlic!

Whew. What a great weekend. Stay Mellow!

But who is counting?

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 14:35:00 +0000

Well, the book calls it 'Five-Grain Bread'.

See?

So, I guess to tell the story behind the story, a little explanation is in order.

WARNING: Weird Story Ahead - Not for the Squeamish!!! Skip ahead to the place it says 'WARNING ALERT OVER' if you would like.

My Mother suffered from some delusional issues - I guess we all suffer from delusional issues - but my family as a group suffered from our mother's delusions. And trust me, there are plenty of stories I could back that statement up with. But she had a lot of wonderful qualities as well, and I would not presume to sum up her existence on a simple bread blog.

But to be certain, she was really into conspiracies, alternate medicine, chiropractors, homeopathy, Communists, religions, yadda, yadda, yadda...

But she was also one hell of a good cook. So much so that she cooked on the river barges towards the end of her life, and was sought-after as a cook. A Seriously Good Cook.

But, to the point of this story, she had read somewhere that we all needed our intestines cleaned out. She was convinced that there was at least 20 years of accumulated steak residing in my stomach, releasing toxins that would most certainly make me go bald, renounce her religion du jour, and maybe even cause me to (gasp!) get married. It was simply her duty to render aid that would assist me to get it cleaned out. Now, she knew that there was no way that I would go along with several methods she and some of the siblings would use, such as...    ...uh, No. Not going there.

Let's just say that she had several other ways of ensuring intestinal cleanliness and let it go at that.

But she figured that she could get to us with food. She started to doctor the food with psyllium seed ( the plant that is the basis for Metamucil) and flax seeds. Both were effective means to obtain their intended result, and both means would be accompanied by a chorus of, well, earthy sounds. Oh the stories I want to tell...   ...the same stories I have tried so hard to forget.

Well, I tell you all that much of my long-past personal life, just to tell you the reasons that I hate flax seed. I hate psyllium seed. Matter of fact, I am pretty squeamish about anything that might change the daily routine of my stomach in such a dramatic fashion.

So when the Mellow Bakers came out with the five grain bread, I counted on my fingers the types of grains I knew were 'safe'. When I got to the Fifth Element ( whoaa - that was a sci-fi Freudian slip!) of Hamelman's book 'Bread', I stopped in my tracks. There is no way that I am using flax seed, I thought.

Then I remembered, and smiled: We are Seriously Mellow here!   Yay!!!

'WARNING ALERT OVER'

So I used some spelt instead of flax and moved along. I also sprinkled the top of the loaf with sesame, but that was mostly by habit, not design. And it did not hurt anything, in fact if was pretty complimentary.

For a highly grained bread, this one was a surprise. It uses enough AP flour and yeast that you get a really nice ferment that is easy to make, and actually pretty quick to make. I did not have the courage to make a free-form loaf, and the dough had the consistency of a sourdough wort-mother with grains tossed in for good measure. It could have handled it OK, but it would have looked a lot like focaccia bread.

I eyed the finished loaf warily, not too sure that this was going to be posted as an August bread or a 'Bread Disaster'. Once it cooled slightly, I tried it and I was quite pleasantly surprised. While it is hardly a favorite, I will keep it in mind for the next time we get a visitor or neighbor that wants a multi-grained bread, but does not have more than a half day to wait.

And when you add Sister Demeter's Cherry Jelly - it becomes superb.

Birds, Bees, and Yeasty Beasts!

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 21:53:00 +0000

The following is from a short post on The Loom, by Carl Zimmer.

You want a little Science with your bread musings? How about an assertion that the little beasties that make your bread rise are making a choice? Really. This is some amazing stuff, kind of fun to wrap your head around!

"[Yeast] This single-celled fungus–for which we should give thanks for bread, beer, and wine–can reproduce in several ways. Most of the time, it produces buds that eventually split off as free-living cells of their own. Its daughters are identical to itself, carrying the same two sets of chromosomes. Sometimes, however, life get rough for yeast, and they respond by making spores, each with only one set of chromosomes. Later, when times get better, the spores can germinate. In some cases the yeast cells that emerge just grow and divide. But they can also have sex. One yeast cell merges with another one, combining their DNA to produce a new yeast cell with two sets of chromosomes.

What makes yeast sex especially interesting is that the cells communicate with each other first. A yeast cell produces a pheromone that can cause another cell to stop dividing and start crawling towards the source of the signal. These pheromones divide yeasts into two groups. Yeast cells carry one of two genes for making pheromones and will only mate with yeast cells that produce the opposite type.

But if you surround a yeast cell with a ring of pheromone producers, the yeast will not just pick a partner at random. It will exercise a choice. The cell will measure the pheromones coming from each suitor, and it will creep its way to the strongest source....

[snip]

... the scientists compared how much pheromones each kind of yeast produced. They found that yeast of higher quality churned out more pheromones than yeast of lower quality. So a yeast that chooses to mate with a strong pheromone producer will be endowing its offspring with good genes.

Smith and Grieg’s experiment makes me think about the yeast in a glass of wine in a different way: I now imagine an ocean of love songs. But it also makes me appreciate just how far-reaching Darwin’s ideas about the evolution of sex have turned out to be. The same rules apply–to bird, frog, and fungus alike."

http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/loom/2010/07/26/gonna-have-a-fungal-good-time-with-apologies-to-james-brown

80 per cent with Soaker

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Fri, 16 Jul 2010 21:01:00 +0000

This is one of Hamelman's Bread recipes that calls for a soaker.

Rye flour is covered with boiling water, giving it a chance to become gelatinous and sweet. This bread was (is) a big experiment for me.

First, the chance to use my newly inherited la cloche.

Here's my starter Gladass worming her way into the picture.

This is a sourdough, after all...

The clay was filled to about 2 cm or 3/4 inch from the top. Even after reading about how little oven spring there was with a sourdough rye, caution was still used. Good thing, too.

The lid was soaking upside down in the sink, full of water.

After oiling and filling the la cloche, the dough was patted smooth with a small spatula dipped in water every few strokes. This was some seriously sticky dough.

There was plenty of dough left over for a boule. We had seen a lady baking on an old Julia Child show, and she kneaded the dough with a vengeance. Time to try it the old fashioned way. After working up a good sweat, the dough was hung in a dish towel from a cupboard. It made for a really nice shape, but the whole old fashioned kneading is not gonna happen again very soon.

Anyway, after the final rise, both loaves were sent to the oven for some intense heat.

After 15 minutes, the lid was supposed to be removed from the cloche. It was firmly stuck on the side, but eventually it gave way.

So much for no 'oven spring' with Rye bread.

Those little edges were really tasty. Oh, yes I did!

After the rest of the bake, the loaves came out.

You can see how much oven spring was there in this picture:

Here you can see the edges missing.

And here, the special design on the bottom of the loaf:

(no, not a special design)

Anyway, you are not supposed to cut the loaf for at least a day. I cut the boule, and regret it. Here is a shot of it before cutting, though.

Once it has cooled for a day we will see if there is any crumb.

For now, I am off to Mellow Bakers to post this.

OK, this is the reason why you should not cut too early:

It just gums up and rolls the crumb, which is sticky enough on this bread anyway. See how the dough rolls?

Here is is the next day.

More than one kind of Bialises- Bialysi?

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sat, 10 Jul 2010 05:44:00 +0000

Well, I had to try it. Like usual, I shot my mouth off before I really thought things through. 'Use Gouda cheese!', I said. Well, this time I got lucky. It really worked. Also, Kitchenoperas, a fellow baker over at Mellow Bakers suggested that we try whole wheat. Well, I thought of it too late, but I did make it 50/50 whole wheat and flour. Not content with those tweaks, I added a couple Tablespoons of Walnut Oil to the batter. (Oops! Sorry about that. I added about an ounce!)

It all went into the Kitchenaid Mixer that the Darling Bride got me for Xmas a few years ago. I like the Battleship Gray. It is a manly mixer, I tell myself; then I noticed that sister Demeter's KA mixer is even bigger. Oh well. She has always been my little sister, but waaay out there in front of me as far as baking and cooking and all manner of things.

Sometime, let me tell you a story about Demeter trapping coon and hunting bear! But that is for another time.

As usual, you can see Gladass in the background, now in a brand new cottage cheese container. I think she is glad to be rid of the old one. It was getting weak around the seal.

So, with customary lack of planning I decided that tonight was the night. I diced a nice onion, and proceeded to caramelize it while the dough was rising.

I also grabbed a nice chunk of gouda cheese and cubed it up for filling. I did say I was going to try it, but right at that moment it seemed pretty odd.

It always seems like magic, using yeast. (Sorry Gladass) I had gotten so used to everything being sourdough that yeast breads just seem to explode.

Next up, it was time to form the Bialys. I had seen enough pictures from the more intrepid bakers that I knew they would likely lose most of the holes. So, I oversized the holes a bit, really flattened them, and pricked them with a fork. All of which did nothing.

Not knowing how many this doubled recipe would make, I broke the dough off into what looked like the right size chunk for a last proof. They seemed to be ready in about a half hour, so I proceeded to place them on a pan, sprinkled with yellow corn meal. Just before putting in the onion or cheese, I smashed the middles out again. That seemed to help as much as anything, since they went right into Old Luke, set for 450 degrees F. The recipe called for 480, but my oven runs hot.

'Rats', I thought, when I heard a distinctive "whump". I have one pan that springs up on two corners when it gets warm. No harm, this time, as these Bialys don't seem to have minded the ride.

In the picture from the oven, if you look close you can see the upper right corner is oddly up in the air.

So, by doubling the size of the recipe, I had to use two pans and two shelves on the stove. That meant a lot of shelf exchanging, since I did not have any idea how they would brown.

Well, they came out terrific! Light, with just a hint of crunch from the cornmeal on the pan. The onion was OK, but the gouda was phenomenal. It did not hurt that I sprinkled just a little Kosher salt on there, either!

The cheese was nearly melted. The onions sizzled in the little bit of butter they brought with them. The house smelled great!

I am looking forward to the Darling Bride's homecoming tomorrow even more now. A new treat to offer her!

These little buns are really good. Quick and easy to make, they are something really different for the next time we visit our friends at the lake. I am really happy with this treat.

But I will let you know how bad the blood sugars are tomorrow morning!

www.mellowbakers.com

French Bread, Sorta Like Mom Made...

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 18:50:00 +0000

This has been an exceptionally rainy two weeks around here. My Darling Bride loves this, since she is out of town and knows that someone only has to water the plants that are in the rain shadow of the house. Who could forget that easy task?

For July, one of the Mellow Bakers breads was 'good old French Bread'. The essence of simple home made white bread. Crusty outside, doughy inside, with few ingredients. Someone's favorite.

Possibly the best right-out-of-the-oven bread there is; just add butter. Maybe a little bit of Demeter's currant jelly. Man! Would you say someone is an 'addict'?

But it is not very good for anyone overweight or diabetic, as it tends to end up right around your middle. Plus, it tends to make someone's blood sugars skyrocket. Since someone has no discipline when it comes to eating, this would be only a half-batch.

But French Bread is quick and easy, and it fit into a holiday schedule. The version in Hamelman's book "Bread" was the quickest of the Mellow Baker's choices for the month, and with the warm, humid weather, it was pretty certain that this dough would rise even more quickly than claimed in the book.

The flour and water were mixed, left to sit for a few minutes, and then the salt and yeast were added. The well-hydrated dough was supposed to go through three 'stretch and folds' at precisely 50 minutes apart.

Well, it didn't...

It got two folds, and it got them when time allowed. This did not seem to discourage the dough at all, as like many yeast recipes in warm weather, it rose wildly.

This is one of those doughs that just feels good in your hands. It is incredibly soft and pliable, and although this recipe was a little wetter than my old stand-by, it was easy and fun to work with.

After the second fold, it was shaped into the kind of loaf that my Darling Bride likes; similar sized slices throughout the loaf. Instead of Kosher salt, the dough was sprayed with water and then some sesame was added for a little more flavor.

And into the oven it went, where it was promptly forgotten. Forgot the egg timers, the microwave timer; someone did not even look at the clock.

But soon the wonderful aroma came wafting down the stairs, and this is how it came out:

(click on the pic to enlarge)
After a quick glance out the window, a neighbor with his garage door open was selected as the day's bread recipient. Just as quickly as possible, the loaf was wrapped in parchment paper and trotted over to the neighbor's house.

Let the twins have at it! Those boys are still young, quite slender, and so full of energy that it will not cause them any harm. With luck, they will eat it all before their Dad gets a chance. In any event, it was out of my view, and no longer my problem.

Get thee behind me, French Bread!

(And I do not mean on my backside.)

But the house sure smells good!

Now someone is hungry for bread, and looking forward to the heavy rye breads. Someone better go water those flowers!

Not by Bread Alone

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sun, 13 Jun 2010 14:21:00 +0000

A one-track mind?

"Moi?"

Well of course, there are lots of things besides bread that are fun to make. Last summer, a neighbor and I cooked a pig in a pit.

OK, this one was his idea, but it was my back yard!

Maybe the pig feed stories should wait for a separate posting, or, even better, wait until this summer's party. Who knows what crazy ideas we can come up with this year? Maybe combine the bread making and the pig roasting and have a giant 'pig-in-a-blanket'.

Maybe not. :)

We also enjoy making various types of sausages. Below is my 1947 WWII Army field oven, made by Reynolds Aluminum. I was just a kid, and my dear old friend Ed and I were on a fishing trip. He was driving his pickup truck, pulling his flat-bottom boat on a trailer we had made from a rear trans-axle and some spare parts, when I spotted this stainless steel beauty in a yard sale. I pointed, mouth agape, and he knew by the look on my teenage face that I really wanted it. And at three dollars, I could afford it!

Being Ed, he had some first-hand some experience with crazy ideas. I think he even he had a pretty good idea what I was thinking, because he offered to drive by "the dump" on the way home that night to get some old stove racks. Of course, the dump was closed, so we jumped the fence and helped ourselves.

Wow, that sounds really horrible.

Let me re-phrase that in today's lexicon.

We saved some endangered stove shelves from a sanitary landfill and conscientiously recycled them.

Anyway, through the years it has been used to smoke carp, salmon, venison, turkey, duck, beef, eggs, just about anything you can think to smoke. There are many nicer and more easily controlled smokers available today, and My Darling Bride routinely encourages me to buy something newer, and perhaps a little smaller. But, because of the large size, and also the sentimental value, I keep this old veteran around.

My Darling Bride has banished it to the back yard, behind the fencing.

That's probably a good thing. Some days she would like to send me there as well, so I built a level platform for the smoker, and count myself as lucky.

There are times where, even if I have to shovel it out, it is put into service. Last winter, we needed to smoke the fall's supply of venison sausage, beer sticks, and some andouille sausage. For an experiment, some of the andouille was made from pork and some from turkey. It did not even taste 'healthy'; in fact, it was pretty darned good!

Nowadays, my nephew and brother in law are always ready to lend a hand with these projects, and I really appreciate them both. Especially since my nephew worked as a butcher, and my brother in law runs a food store. I could not ask for better partners in this kind of project, as we all have unique skills. For some reason, though, neither one wants the smoker as a gift. I've tried!

The large smoke box lets me smoke whole picnic hams, or even five pound summer sausages. It will hold several large carp, hung from the top.

This one is a clear casing, before smoking.

Maybe it is like bread making, in the sense that you get your hands dirty. Maybe, it is just the bragging rights you get from doing something out of the ordinary. Maybe it is that generations before us preserved part of the winter's larder in almost the same way. But most likely, it's just the good fun of getting together with family and friends for a cooperative project.

It is always satisfying, after the work is done, knowing that there are freshly smoked goodies in our houses. Yes, we could drive to the store or the butcher, but much like with the home made bread, it truly tastes better when it is hand crafted.

In the picture above, one clear casing was used to make a 'special' sausage for a buddy. He had been fishing, and he was unfortunate enough to have witnesses in the boat when he accidentally hooked a seagull...

Of course, we gave him a hard time for the rest of the year.

He got this light colored summer sausage for Christmas, and it was called a 'Seagull Sausage'. Sadly, I have never heard from him again.

His wife went mad. True story.

What are you gonna do?

Time to scrape together some pizza ingredients for this afternoon!

Time to try a new path...

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 14:20:00 +0000

A lot of the bread I try is from the

Mellow Baker's handbook - Hamelman's 'Bread'.

But I was curious.

There are a ton of bread recipes out there

that have oat meal in them,

but not so many that have oat flour.

I have a pantry full of oat flour.

I can't help it.

I go to the 'Hippie Store',

and things like that just call to me.

Hippie Store.

Ten years after my mother's passing,

and my she still finds a way

to worm into the conversation.

The 'Natural Foods Cooperative' is just too much to type.

So anyway, I thought about what I like in bread.

So far, I really like Hamelman's 'Light Rye'.

A lot.

Seriously.

Ten pounds later, without using butter, and I am wearing the proof around my waist.

There is really only about a cup of rye in that bread, but the pre-ferment is some sourdough starter and water and rye flour. It really gets a lot of flavor out of one cup of grain.

See it coming?

Yep. One cup of oat flour, one cup of water, two tablespoons of Gladass' best froth:

After about six hours it seemed like the levain was ready, so I added five cups of flour, a tablespoon of powdered milk, two cups of water, a tablespoon of Kosher salt, a teaspoon of yeast, and just a little drizzle of honey.

The dough worked up really nicely.

Sorry to leave this post inchoate, but I do not have access, right now, to the pictures for the rest of it. This Bread came out with a great flavor, even if I did not proof it in the pan long enough.

The rest of the pictures are coming, really!

Update: June 9, 2010.

Not that impressed, but OK with it.

I had a dumb idea that it needed to be glazed in butter
which was tasty, but kind of took all of the decorative rolled oats away. They were cleaned up my Emma, Phoebe, and me.
Actually, they were really nutty flavored after being baked and, drenched in butter, they were pretty tasty.

The first thought was that there was not a great
deal of oven spring, which should not have surprised me.
The second opinion is that they were
pretty heavy in weight.
It was good when it was still warm,
but that is true of most bread.

Once it cooled, we toasted some
and ate it with tuna salad.
It was OK, but just OK, even when toasted.
The flavor of the oat flour just was
not that distinct or impressive.

The Darling Bride noted:
"You would not have to make that one again."

Followed by,
"Yeah, I suppose you are gonna
quote me in your blog again?"

I hate to disappoint her, so yeah, I did...

Minnesota Sourdoughs, Wheat and Rye added

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 16:20:00 +0000

Warning - long post alert!

There comes a time where you have to go for it.

Today is that day.

I have been making sourdough breads since last November, and I am always impressed by the differences in flavor that can be had from the same starter.

Now, to be fair, I fed my pet starter some whole wheat flour before using her in that huge Miche a few posts ago, since I really did not know what to expect. I knew that sourdough, at least my Gladass, loves rye flour. A lot. With salt, please, but that is another story.

So, in Hamelman's excellent book 'Bread' there are three 'Vermont' sourdoughs. Today I am starting the second and third recipes, one with added Whole Wheat and one with added Rye. You can find the first Minnesota Sourdough version on a previous post. You won't find it my house, since even the crumbs are long since consumed.

Phoebe even got some of Demeter's Currant Jelly on her ears. That is true dedication to the job..

My Sister, the Beneficent Demeter herself, gave me a very nice scale to use. I ought to use it more, and so I shall.

Today I am setting the levain, or pre-ferment, for both of the added grain varieties, and I will attempt to do them side by side. For convention, I will try to show the Whole Wheat justified to the left, and the Rye should be the right justified pictures.

To begin with, I have always read about the discrepancies between volume and weight with flour. I thought I would give it a try. On the right, 4.8 ounces of flour, on the right 3.25. The volume given was one cup and three quarters cup.

What with me not being the best photographer, you cannot really see the contents of the cup too clearly. I will ask you to trust me that the next two shots of the cups are indeed the ones in the scale picture.

But you can see that if I had measured by volume, I would have been over on the weight.

Flour, Water, and Sourdough Starter are all that is called for in this recipe for the levain. I thought that maybe I should check in on Gladass, my trusted old friend, and see how she was holding out.

I wish that you could smell this container. She might be a little hungry, but there are still lots of bubbles, that great aroma, and the semi-gelatinous feel to the wort.

Time to combine the few ingredients.

That's Gladass, top off and center stage
whenever she can be.
Three quarters of a cup of water on the left,
one half on the right.

Two tablespoons of starter on the left,
one and one half on the right.

Next, everything gets a quick stirring.

But wait, don't forget to feed that starter!

There is slightly more volume on the left.

Both get covered in plastic wrap, time stamped, and set aside.

See you after at least 12 hours!

Hmmm. Maybe I should check the website for possible errors in the recipe. Mellow Bakers, here I come.

Update: Thank goodness I checked. I really must remember to never, ever, rely on my memory; ah - er, wait. I have to start being better at remembering!

Indeed, the Rye version had a correction. To the 3.25 oz. of flour already in the wort, I added another 3.15 oz. for a total of 6.4. To the 4 oz. of water, I added another 4 oz.

Now the Rye is a little larger in volume than the Wheat levain. I forgot to wipe off the sides, so the Rye looks a little messy, but you can sorta see it is bigger now. No? Well, trust me.

The good news is that either way this levain smells wonderful.

It had already worked up quite a nice froth in a couple of hours.

OK.

Now I will be back in 12 hours, minimum.

'cause I am hungry, doggone it!

...and I am not alone in that sentiment.

Getting wet makes you hungry, and it is raining like cats and...

...sorry about that, Ladies.

It is really raining here.

Update Number one: June 9, 8 :30 pm
It is a beautiful spring day,
but Man, that dough is cold.

The Darling Bride was busy.
Too busy to take it out of the cooler for me.
But still, not too busy to pick me up
from the bus stop, so I better be nice!

Here is the wheat flour. I folded it before I even thought about taking pictures. Hey, I never said I was bright.

It looks good, though. I believe it will make a good loaf.

Here is the rye. Before I folded it, thank you very much. Two items of note, both doughs sweated water on to the plastic wrap. Also, both doughs resisted taking on any oil. I had sprayed the bowls, lightly, with Pam, since I did not know how they would release. When I went to tip the dough out, the oil had nearly all worked its way to the surface edges of the dough. Rude. I dumped it out, and resolved to use less next time.

Both doughs got a nice lengthy stay on the counter top while they were stretched out. Hopefully that will aid the warming. Both are now folded, once, and back in their bowls.

See you in a few hours for the next update.

Update: the next day.

It is morning, and it has been a long night.

A confirmed morning person, it is rumored that I turn into a pumpkin around 11 pm. Last night, at five to eleven, I had just finished dividing and shaping the loaves for the final proof.

Flattened, rolled, and formed, I noticed that there was a subtle difference between the two loaves already. The Wheat was not as elastic. It would tear more easily.

While the Rye was a much more robust and stretchy dough.

Since my sleep starved brain could not figure out a way to used the peel twice, I decided that I would bake one set of bread on a cookie sheet instead of the stone.

So, the pan was sprinkled with some corn flour and the Rye dough was set out for final proofing, then covered with plastic wrap.

One ready.

I read in Hamelman's 'Bread' that the final proof

for these is 2 to 2 and 1/2 hours.

I started to whine.

1 p.m.? For bread?

That little voice says,

" A lack of planning on your part

does not make for an emergency on my part."

Man, I hate little voices.

Then, the Wheat got the same treatment, except on my peel.

Luke (my oven) was ready to go and set for 350 degrees F. The Wheat was slid off the peel onto the stone, water spritzed into the oven, and my mother-in-law's egg timer set for 35 minutes. Soon, the T.V. was on and the couch was warmed up. Oddly, both dogs decided that they were going to get more sleep

upstairs with the Darling Bride.

Just as soon as my eyes were closed,

I could smell the bread. You know that

special smell you get from a loaf when it is done?

Really.

There is a difference.

There it was, all right, that 'done' smell.

The egg timer went off,

and when Luke was opened up,

this is what I found:

A little dark, but not too bad.

Man, that is the most temperamental oven...

In went the Rye.

Spritzed with water, Kosher salt sprinkled on top, it was not the prettiest loaf I had ever seen. But it was going to have to be good enough. Sleep was only an hour away!

This time the temperature knob was set to 325 F., and the timer set for 35 minutes. Much better. Sleep was going to be that much better, knowing that the rye was not burnt.

The secret to me not cutting open a fresh loaf has been discovered. Sleep deprivation. If you go to bed, you don't cut open the bread till morning! Here is the crumb shot of the wheat. Finally, there are some major sized holes like I see over on the Mellow Baker's site.

The holes in the crumb of the Rye were not as large as the Wheat, but still pretty good. When the Darling Bride woke up to give me a ride to the bus stop, we had a taste test.

She really liked the wheat. The crust that I thought was scorched was actually just really brown, not burnt at all. It was more tender than the Rye. The Rye was my favorite, had a little more of a chewy crust and custard-like crumb, with a distinct twang from the sourdough that was no where to be found on the Wheat.

My Darling Bride started to fuss over to whom she could give all this bread. I volunteered to eat more than my share, and the Dogs were willing to back me on that plan, but then she looked at my waistline and quickly remembered some starving neighbors.

She agreed to leave one half of each loaf, so that we can taste it later, after it has had a little more time to set.

At least three of us can't wait!

When did bread baking become a three day process?

Minnesota Vermont Sourdough

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 20:29:00 +0000

I noticed that Google's Blogger is back up, so here goes... ...my first try at Hamelman's 'Bread' version of Vermont Sourdough.

In the beginning, there is life!

Once that was nicely blooming, the rest of the ingredients were added and allowed to rise. I folded it twice, just to get my hands in that dough.

Most of the raise was in a large stainless steel bowl.

The dough was cut in half, mostly for the chance to use that whopping 11" Gerber fillet knife.

It's dough. It probably works just as well using the sharp or the dull side.

I press it out, causing a slight gas
release of the larger bubbles.

Then, it gets the 'paper airplane' fold to start with. Still a kid at heart!

Then flip it over, since when rolled away from yourself you can use the heel of your palm to full advantage.

This is the start of the roll. For some reason, this did not end up football shaped at all!

I cover them with plastic wrap to discourage any tough skin from forming.

After the loaves have risen, score them (No, not shown. I forgot!) then mist them and add Kosher salt, and into the oven they go.

I was a little distracted, and had already loaded a pizza on my peel. Good thinking, Burntloafer! Ah well, I just used a cookie sheet to get them to the cutting board.

Where, of course, I sliced them long before I should have. I admit it. I have no willpower! Maybe I should remove all traces of butter, jam, jelly, and peanut butter from the house? Nah. I have a pepper grinder and a secret stash of olive oil, too.

No bread, just fond memories...

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 03:05:00 +0000

Well, I have not had much time to bake, let alone take pictures of the process. It has been a busy few days!

When faced with a lot to do, I notice that my mind wanders whenever I can relax for a few moments.

For example, when I was taking the bus to work this morning, I fell asleep for a few beautiful, lingering moments. My thoughts wandered back to the places I knew as a kid...

...will you look at that! The dogs are smaller breeds now, but seem interested in where we are going.

When I boat camp, I find it is nice to have lots of 'stuff' along, make a base camp, and then empty out the boat for fishing and exploring.

Whoa, what's that? A smile is starting to show on the old man's face!
It is not that I don't like people, I do; it is just that I crave a little solitude once in a while, and that is hard to find in the city.

We took the long route, and turned a simple boat ride into a great adventure. Under bridges, across the barge traffic, all the while heading for a river so shallow most boaters do not bother to go there, for fear of running aground.

Once we leave the lake and hit the river, the dogs are on duty, watching for sand bars!

Until the novelty wears off...

..and we are miles from anyone.

Which doesn't take long. They don't care, just as long as they get to be with you. The closer, the better.

I do not want to remove any hooks from puppies, so I am pretty careful to keep the rods off to one side.

Of course, my seat is where they prefer to sit. Especially when things get bumpy, which is part of the fun.

Fishing was great. Lots of fish, and lots of variety. We kept three small slot limit walleyes for supper, and went back to camp to make a fire which, of course, was entirely too big for May weather.

Perfect.

Channel cats are fun to catch, but that big smallmouth was a real fighter. They are all still swimming, as far as I know.

We had set up the tent in a small field of onion grass, and the back door was overlooking the river, while the front faced the fire.

We woke up to several Tom turkeys gobbling, wood ducks screaming as they burst from the trees, and all kinds of birds singing. Every year, there is resolve to learn more of the songs so that the songs can be identified. Which, of course, never happens.

A big Blackjack Cormorant looked in on the campsite and when he saw me looking back, he quickly ducked underwater, unaware that when the water is only three feet deep, he was still quite visible.

And after a leisurely breakfast of leftover walleye, eggs with onion grass seasoning, and strong coffee, we started our second day, without a care in the world.

And now, you know what I was daydreaming about during my city bus ride this morning.

April showers delivered!

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Thu, 27 May 2010 02:26:00 +0000

It was a long hard winter, as evidenced by a buddy's woodpile:

April was pretty dry at first, but it did finally rain.

And though Midwestern America can have desert-like qualities:

Who knew you could find these here? My nephew did. He found some right through his shoes.

It seemed like it would never 'green up', except in a few small spots:

Which was neat enough, because eventually the wild strawberries came out.

But eventually, the May flowers came.

Some wild violets,

and some tame.

My wife has a very green thumb!

But, with some dependable assistance, I found a new favorite: The May Apple.

With its single flower.

Next: Back To Bread.

The Day After...

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sun, 23 May 2010 01:13:00 +0000

Well, we went to Sister Demeter's house and a great time was had by almost everyone. The last picture shows someone who felt left out.

But as promised, here is the 'crumb shot' from the Miche in the previous posting. I think it came out pretty good:

My Vicious Killer Guard Dogs took a break, and partied:Of course, when you party like an animal, you crash like one, too...

We went to the Cheese Factory the next day. There are samples, pre-cut and wrapped cheeses, and if you want they will cut it from the large blocks in the background.

Of course, a few folks were left behind. They are hoping to get some bread out this, as well!

See you next bread!

Not quite five pounds big!

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Fri, 21 May 2010 17:33:00 +0000

OK. I have a habit of opening my big mouth and then, afterward, thinking things through.

I was recently soo smug about getting sixty pounds of flour that I just had to brag about it. On line, for the world to see, over at the Mellow Bakers.

Now, as it happens, I read for a living. Every day I scan hundreds of pages of text, so you might think that I was pretty good at reading for comprehension.

You would be wrong.

Turns out that each bag was twenty five pounds. So really, I had seventy five pounds. And I am already through twenty five of those.

After a little good natured ribbing, it was easy for me to boast that I would do the full sized Miche Pointe-a-Calliere while the majority of the other bakers reduced the sizes of their loaves to half or even third size. What the heck - I had the flour, right?

Except, golly gee, I really had not read the recipe. It was a large sour-dough loaf made from wheat flour, not all purpose or bread flour. No problem! I had bought a twenty pound bag of locally milled whole wheat flour just the day before. Got lucky again.

Check the recipe. It says 'high extraction' flour, not whole wheat. Whoops.

I tried to strain some of the bran from my whole wheat flour; but that particular dog didn't hunt too well. Maybe I need a better strainer.

Check the recipe?

OK, it says to use 15 per cent 'regular' flour if you can only find whole wheat. Lucky again!

Then I got that nagging little voice, and thought that I better check the Mellow Bakers Blog to see if there were any typos or suggestions to be found. There were, indeed, but as I checked my copy of Hamelman's Bread I discovered that I had a pretty recent printing.

Lucky guy.

I had set the sour-dough pre-ferment up by the book. I thought it was too dry and stiff, but hey, I have been learning a lot from this book, so I trusted the recipe and sure enough it all came together nicely.

Put the pre-ferment away in the microwave overnight, take it out, and it just looked terrific. Gladass, my pet sourdough, must like whole wheat as well as she likes rye, because it really was well raised.

As I moved the bowl from the microwave to the counter, it deflated like a souffle. Do you suppose that is the 'slight indentation' they mentioned in the book? No? Ah well, it looked good to me, and by golly, I finally had the time and place to try this third bread recipe for May.

Because of my complaints about not being able to read the tiny little script on the off-colored pages of the book 'Bread', (see how I worked in my excuse list?) the lights were obediently turned on, old man's reading glasses on my head, and I re-read the recipe.

Again.

The scale that Sister Demeter had given me was used to weigh out the ingredients; there will be no more of the same mistakes I made with the corn bread. 'Lose your American measurement habits...' I thought, '...and weigh it out!'

So, I did, and instead of getting the promised too-wet dough, I could only get half of the flour mixed wet enough for the autolyse.

I decided to ignore the facts and go by the recipe.

Everything sat the required time, and eventually I got to add the salt, sour-dough starter, and mix it up for a few minutes.

To the best of my memory, this was the first time I saw that Hamelman let us get our mixers past the first speed, but there it was in print; turn it up to the SECOND speed!

Hey, I have ridden enough toy trikes in my day to know that when you get a green light, you go for it! Three whole minutes at the second speed!

Once I regained my composure, I remembered that this was supposed to be a really large loaf, so the KA mixing bowl got a quick washing, a light oiling, and then the dough went back in for the first ferment. Covered with plastic wrap, into the pre-warmed oven, it sat and did its thing.

It was really soft, nice dough, for being nearly all whole wheat. Very smooth, tacky, but fairly dry.

I took it out and folded it three times, every forty minutes, as instructed.

It is very hard for me to resist kneading and rolling the dough.

I like getting my hands into it, so to simply fold the dough and then place back it the bowl was pretty hard. Hey, I never said I wasn't twitchy!

Those are the first and third folds, by the way. Not much improvement in feel, but I thought it looked and felt pretty good right from the start. After the third folding, I shaped it and placed it on my 'super-peel' for the final raise. I went back and checked the book again, read how you could cover it with a large plastic container, and remembered that Paul from yumarama blog used a cover, so I set out to get one and get it washed. Nice time to remember, right?

After washing it and messing around with all the things which had been in it, I forgot to take and pictures of the dough under the box.

Trust me, it looked like a science experiment from the third grade. I had oiled and inverted a small bowl to make an indentation in the top, tried to do some of the fancy stenciling you see on teh intertubes, and then covered it with both plastic wrap and then the upside-down box. Of course, that is when my wife came home, shaking her head and grinning at the fool she had married.

When time was up, I unwrapped it and started to do some scoring work. The plan was to make a large flower of sorts, but during the final ferment what was the carefully measured center-of-the-loaf had done some serious tectonic shifting. Instead of being close to the middle, it had drifted out somewhere in the Atlantic.

So what do you do when there is an emergency? Get out the duct tape! I did not know why, but instinctively I knew that there would be some good that would come from that duct tape.

I used the gray wonder tape to prop up the side of the peel while scoring the loaf. My wife came over, and being the type who is unable to resist looking at a train wreck, started to tell me that the scoring of the center circle needed to be deeper than what was done by the little cup...
...so, I handed her the knife!

(Actually, it did make it better. Thanks, dear!)

The fancy stenciling I tried? It all got wet and dissolved. I took the hint, and sprinkled a little Kosher salt around the top.

Into old Luke went my Miche. If you look closely you can see the fires of hell, glowing red under the pizza stone. You can also see that while the duct tape did correct some of the lopsidedness, it was far from a perfect circle. Hey, I was still pleased!

The final result looks really good. Getting the right angle for the shot will help with that illusion! I circled the loaf a few times before getting this photo - long enough that my Darling Bride started to laugh at me. Again.

I will bring a crumb shot home and append this posting. Right now, we are loading up the killer attack doggies and heading to Wisconsin. Fresh cheese, a home cooked meal by Sister Demeter, and a birthday party for Demeter's Love Slave. It should be fun!

Corn Bread Part deiux

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Mon, 17 May 2010 02:20:00 +0000

OK, I admit it; I do not always read for comprehension. Some times good enough is good enough.

So when I read that you were supposed to use a quarter cup of corn meal, I just used a quarter cup. Never mind the weight right next to it...

And so, the corn bread was really boring. My Darling Bride summed it up nicely: "You know that B______y's Supermarket bread that looks so good? It doesn't taste like much, but it sure looks good."

So, once I saw that Paul - the head honcho over at Mellow Bakers (and several others) had noticed and corrected the error, I knew I had to try it again. It came out much more yellow, with a bit more flavor. The body is full, and it was a fun bake.

And the flavor is better, but still not nearly as good as the Light Rye.

But it looks good.

Look at these bagels - wait, wha...!?

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sun, 16 May 2010 22:33:00 +0000

I will admit to having my doubts.

In fact, I was seriously considering not making the bagels from Hamelman's book 'Bread', for a number of reasons.

First, I did not want to watch my blood sugars skyrocket after eating a bagel. For some reason the bagels I buy in town really have that effect, and as a Type 2 diabetic I really do not like this kind of surprise.

Who needs guilt?

Second, I did not have malt powder or syrup. Not since my homebrewing days, and lordy that has been a while...

Third, I was reading some of the comments from the other bloggers on The Mellow Bakers blog, and sounded like a few people had irritating problems. Things like the center was doughy, dealing with bagel boards, skimmers, and the notion that the dough was too cold when taken out of the fridge.

Frankly, some of the bakers over there are both experienced and competent; most are simply fantastic bakers. If they had troubles, well, I was more than a little intimidated.

Now I had made bagels a few years ago in a fit of creativity, but they were like a lot of breads in the sense that when they are warm and fresh out of the oven, just about any bread tastes good. Twenty minutes after I made them, they turned into rocks so hard that the squirrels refused them. I did have a track record to overcome.

But, I had visited Sister Demeter over the weekend, and she had taken the plunge. She had bought a can of malt syrup and powder as well. In typical fashion, she offered me some, and in furtherance of that typical fashion, I took both with a smile and a thank you. It is good to have someone leading the way, and I thought that I would follow, yet again, in her footsteps.

So that took care of the second objection. I read the recipe and the blog comments again, and decided that I might as well give it a 'Mellow' try. Why not? After reading the comments about bagels boards and doughy centers, I knew I was going to take a few liberties with the recipe. As I ladled that whopping two teaspoons of malt powder into the mixer there were a number of cheats running through my mind.

The dough came together nicely, and was promptly popped into the refrigerator for a bulk ferment overnight. That way the bagels would be confirmed as warm by my hands when doing the forming.

The hardest part of the whole recipe was dividing the dough into thirteen parts!

The dough stayed pretty sticky, and my hands needed to be floured a couple times as things warmed up. Eventually, there were twelve round rings on a chunk of parchment paper. Yeah, twelve.

In the back of the picture below are the starters for my second or third attempts at Corn Bread, Rustic Bread, and a couple of other projects as well. I have taken to writing down the recommended fold and bake times with a dry erase marker on the plastic wrap.You know, when you get the chance to bake all day you have to make the best of it!

I did go through the effort of setting out ice water, salt, sesame, and got the malt syrup and water simmering nicely.

Once the sugar water came to a boil, I re-shaped the bagels as best I could, and dropped them into the pot, where they proceeded to go right to the bottom.

And stayed there.

What about floating up? Using a spatula they were released from the bottom, where they had nicely glued themselves in a serious attempt at ritual drowning. Once freed from the bottom, they popped right up and floated on the surface like they were supposed to do.

Using a strainer spoon that I had bent at a ninety degree angle, they were easy enough to lift from the proofing to the ice water. Touching them in the ice water you could feel the gelatinous surface. When I tried to roll them in a nicely prepared bowl of sesame I made a terrible mess of things, so after the first attempt, the bagels went directly to the parchment paper, where my Darling Bride sprinkled a little Kosher salt and then sesame on them, turned them over, and did the other side. It is good to have help sometimes!
I was not too sure, but Darling Bride quickly scooped up four of them to deliver to the taste testing neighbors. They approved, and asked for more. She then brought a few more to her girlfriend's house, where they were promptly covered in cream cheese and devoured. She came back, I sliced one for her, and she rolled her eyes in disbelief.

Success!

If the Darling Bride says she likes something, you have done well.

She loved them. Well, that was just too much for my self-control.

I gave in and 'sampled' one for myself. Blood sugars? Eh, check it later. Right now, for this moment, I lavished the fragrant bread liberally with my Sister's strawberry jam.

They were wonderful...

...and then, they were simply gone!

Just that quickly, there was nothing left; no evidence other than the dirty dishes and a few stray sesame seeds here and there. These really were wonderful bagels. The outside was chewy, but not so tough that you felt like it was a workout. The inside was really flavorful, and although they were a fair amount of work, I figure that with enough practice it will go much faster.

Besides, there is a lot of malt powder left!

And who knows when we will have a need for bagels?

Mother's Day Lemon Pies

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Mon, 10 May 2010 16:45:00 +0000

Last Sunday was Mother's Day. This is of particular note, since it refers to a date that has become vitally important to Minnesota culture. Mother's Day has usurped the rightful place and date of the first great holiday: Fishing Opener.

"Ya, sure, da D.N.R. has gone and moved da Opener to da fiteenth a May, don'cha know.
Saay! Are we gettin' our full length season anymore den?? Sumthin' should be said about dat right dere."

So, I checked. We still get a whole season for our license fee...

I have been lucky enough to have known a Mother and a Mother-in-law, and now that they have both passed on, the matriarch of the family, Mary, has been gracious enough to include my household in sharing her day. Lemon Pie is Mary's favorite pie, and it is mine as well. This is why today's recipe makes two pies. One is not enough. It just wouldn't be right.

I freely admit that I learned to make a lemon pie from Alton Brown, of the t.v. show 'Good Eats'. There is not much here that was not stolen directly from him, so please, if you really want to learn how to make a good lemon pie, head over to You-tube and watch AB's videos - they are excellent!

I start off with around two and a half cups of all purpose flour, (500 grams) and add a stick and a half of softened butter, a little at a time.. oh, yeah, that is salted butter. And add a healthy teaspoon of salt, up to two teaspoons if you use Kosher. Yup, that is a lot of butter - but don't worry about that half-stick that is left over - it will be added later. Right now you just focus on adding that quarter stick of lard in as well...If you have a food processor, this will take about 30 seconds. I do not have one, so I improvised and use the wire whisk from my Kitchenaid blender. I usually mix the four and salt first, then blend in the butter, and finally add the lard. As long as you do not add any water, you won't get much gluten formation, and you can safely blend the flour, salt and fats as long as you need without fear of making a tough dough.

I like to blend the flour and fats until the dough starts to ball up a little. Then, with the mixer off, reach in and make a fist in the dough. If it balls up nicely without crumbling, it is ready for a little water spritzing.

AB uses just a few squirts. I end up using at least a tablespoon. Still, you have to admit the sprayer is showy, and it makes a point: the less water that gets mixed in, the less gluten will develop, which makes for a tender flaky crust.

Once I get some water added, I wrap it in plastic or a zip lock bag and put it in the fridge for fifteen minutes.

This is a good time to prepare the lemons!

Select 4 large brightly colored fresh lemons. And yes, it matters!

Grate off two healthy Tablespoons of zest, more if it is close to Mother's Day and you need to work on your puckering. Make sure to take only the bright zest. The white pith underneath will make your pie bitter. Once the zest has been removed from the lemons, cut, squeeze, and strain out the seeds. You will need one cup of juice. Any more or less and you will need to tinker with the amount of corn starch, and let me state that this tinkering has not worked out very well for me in the past...

This is the time where we use that quarter stick of butter we talked about above. Add the zest, lemon juice, butter, and a half teaspoon of salt in the bowl and put it next to the stove for ready access later.

Now would be a good time to wash your wire whisk in hot water and get it really dry. Water messes with meringue. Not as bad as yolk, but it will cause the meringue to weep when you bake it.

This is also a good time to separate a dozen egg whites. Reserve eight or nine egg yolks for the custard, and save three yolks for another project.

[whine]

What was that? Oh, pardon me, save the remaining yolks to fix for your dogs.

When I get eggs from Sister Demeter I only need eight. They are so yellow they are almost orange. Happy chickens make for great eggs!

When I use eggs from the store I use nine yolks.

If you get a little yolk in with the whites, the meringue will whip up beautifully, and will lead you to believe that you are a wonderful cook. The minute you look away, it will deflate like a blown tire. Trust me on this one. If you get a little yolk in with the whites, remove it with a spoon or just start over.

It is that important - a drop of yolk will make the meringue deflate.

Whisk the egg yolks and put them next to the lemon for use in the custard.

If there is a digital timer by your stove, you are in good shape for later.

Being a left-handed guy, (and the fact that we only have counter on the left) I line up my bowls by the stove:

I put the egg whites and about a quarter teaspoon of cream of tartar in the fridge for later use.
Take out the dough, put down a sheet of wax or parchment paper, and cover the dough with a second layer of paper.

Slowly start to roll out the dough until you get the thickness you want. Then, peel the top layer of paper off, and then simply put it back in place.

This lets you pick up both sheets of paper, with the dough sandwiched inside, and flip the whole thing over. Now peel off what is the new top sheet of paper.

Yeah, I know, that photo shows no paper under the dough. It was a screwup, and I forgot to take a replacement photo.

Like Julia Child said, "Never Apologize!"

Take a pie plate, lay it over a section of the rolled out dough that looks to have the best coverage, slide your hand under the bottom paper, and flip the whole thing over. Peel off the paper that was loosened earlier, and trim the dough. Got a crack or space? Just fill it in. Fork the dough to prevent bubbling, and send the pie shells, one at a time, to the 350F oven till they just start to brown.

The low temp browning is a tedious thing, but at higher temps the dough will 'catch' and turn brown too quickly. If you get just a light shade of brown it really adds flavor to the crust. Take the shell out, bake the second one, and place both in a safe place to cool. I like to set them on the bottom of an up-side-down cookie sheet. Yes, I know the picture shows them on a cooling rack. Strange things happen when I get busy.

Now, the custard. Add 2/3rds of a cup of corn starch (100 grams), two and a half cups of sugar
(about 500 grams) and three cups of water, (600 grams) to a sauce pan set on medium heat.

Using a whisk that fits your pan, start to stir. Once the mixture starts to bubble, set your timer to a full minute. The point of this is to completely cook the corn starch, and unleash it's power to grab the water, sugar, egg yolks, etc. Otherwise, the custard will either be sloppy or it will weep after it cools.

After a full minute of bubbling, pour out about a cup of the mixture into the whisked egg yolks. This 'tempering' of the eggs is important.

Trust me on that one, too. If you curdle the eggs they not only lose texture, but they also get a funky flavor. It is a little tricky to pour and whisk at the same time, but you will get the hang of it pretty quickly. If I think of it I 'cuddle' the bowl with a wet towel around the base.

As soon as I have poured out some of the mixture into the eggs, I whisk with my left hand, and I use my right hand to add the ingredients we placed with the lemon juice into the sauce pan. This slows the cooking in the sauce pan just enough to let me whisk the egg yolks without burning the custard. Once the yolks are tempered, add them back to the same sauce pan and start stirring. When the heat rebuilds, and the custard starts to bubble again, time it for one full minute, stirring all the while. This seems like a lot of work, but it makes for a really smooth and creamy custard. And it seems like that half stick of butter from before melts in exactly sixty seconds, just in case you forget to set the timer.

When the minute is up, grab a spatula and pour the custard off into the waiting pie shells. It is nice if you can set the pan under hot running tap water right away - it cleans up much more easily.

Get the egg whites out of the fridge and into the mixer, set on high. You will hear the speed slow as the meringue starts to thicken; add a couple of tablespoons sugar (to taste) to the mixer. The bowl will be three quarters full when the meringue is ready, and it will make stiff peaks when you pull out the whisk. After the first time you try this you can do it by ear!

Using as large a spatula as you have, spread the meringue on the pie and spin the plate on the cookie sheet to get a nice, round effect.

I made mine a little sloppy looking, as you can see, because I forgot to put it on a sheet so that it would spin easily. At ten p.m., I liked it that way just fine...

Once you have one pie ready, pop it into the same 350F oven and prepare the second pie.

You do have to watch the oven. If I said that the crust turns quickly, I will also tell you that meringue can turn just as quickly as a campfire S'more in the hands of a ten year old.

If you pay attention, it comes out a light brown with no weeping. If you have weeping, there was some water introduced to the meringue by mistake.

Let it cool well before trying to serve. This has proven to be a real favorite around the block!

Grissini - Got Beer?

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Sat, 01 May 2010 22:53:00 +0000

I admit it. It was pure laziness on my part. I wanted to try something else, and the Grissini seemed quick and easy. And in fact, they were.

I roasted some garlic by drizzling it in olive oil, then placing a few cloves on a sheet of parchment paper. It was supposed to be at 350 for up to 45 minutes; for Ol' Luke I set it to 325 and gave then about 25 minutes.

Surprise! Luke still got them. I had made extra, with some other plans in mind, but all of the cloves were fried to a crisp except the largest, plumpest ones. I ended up using one fat clove for the bread sticks, and it was plenty!

Here is some grated Asiago cheese:

I am fortunate enough to live fairly close to a cheese factory that exchanges cheeses with other local factories. Fresh cheese, relatively inexpensive, has made me a real snob when it comes to cheese choices. They make a blue cheese that...

...eh, I am daydreaming again, and starting to drool on the keyboard. I will talk cheese another time.

The extruded oil stuff in the supermarket, wrapped in plastic and marketed under a name that rhymes with Draft, well, I refuse to eat it.
Yechh!

The dough was very dry, to the point where I got out a stronger pair of reading glasses to see if I had read the home ingredient list correctly. I had. I added extra water and olive oil until I could successfully make a dough. I let it ferment for the required hour, with little or no noticeable difference. I rolled it out, sliced it up with a pizza cutter, and then rolled it with my hands.

Once I had them fairly uniform, I spritzed them with water, and then sprinkled sesame seeds and Kosher salt. Next time I will be more liberal! But they came out pretty good. Warm from the oven, they were just OK, but you know I had to try! Cooled down, they were a lot better. The flavors, especially the garlic, really came through.

I had been enjoying the beautiful spring day by opening the windows, and that made a huge difference in the rise. There was very little during the hour ferment, but the oven spring was nice, in fact, it had me worried! I had these all squeezed in on my little pizza stone. No problem, they were just fine.

I was also concerned with turning them when baking - but the bottoms browned well on the stone, no turning was needed at all. Next time I make them, I will let them get a little browner. They were close, but needed just a little more browning. Ol' Luke has me gun-shy.

Still - it was nice to have bread sticks on hand when the cute little kid next door delivered a May Day gift. She eats bread with such a passion that it makes almost anything look good!

My only real regret is that I did not have any beer on hand! I had to resort to drinking some near-beer, which I use for cooking. Good stuff! Salt, garlic, cheese, olive oil, and crispy bread? How could you go wrong?

Stay Mellow!

Hot Cross Buns!

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 14:47:00 +0000

Well, there is a lot  that could be said about Hot Cross Buns, but then, I have a very juvenile mind. I have heard of them, and sang the song as a kid, but to the best of my knowledge I have never actually seen one.  My Darling Wife assures me that have seen them in Ireland. I have certainly never tasted one.
Hot Cross Buns were the very first bread in the Mellow Bakers Group. It was their March bread, and seeing that April is nearly over, today being the 30th, I thought it was time to learn the bread that goes with the nursery rhyme. I am attaching the link above so that those of you that are interested in baking can find your way to the friendliest, most laid back site on the web. Also, so that you can see what HCB's are supposed to look like! At this stage, my dough is going through it's first fermentation. I was fortunate enough to read that the recipe in "BREAD" - our bible for this venture - has enough of the cross paste for several armies. So, I will cut way back as well.
This is the yeast and milk mixture, one picture a half hour later than the other.

This is what the dough looks like so far. It just went into the microwave (off, of course) to warm and sit for an hour. On the right, an hour later.

After an hour, the dough was divided. If you look at the picture below, you will see a long fillet knife on the side of the dough. I am pretty fond of that knife. I bought a Gerber fillet knife and liked it so much I bought one of each size. This one is my Halibut knife - a very useful thing for filleting a 150 lb. fish or dividing dough!

I digress...

...often.

I went to the SHOT show (shooting, hunting, outdoor trades) in Vegas a few years ago. There was a tent set up in the convention center, and Chuck Buck was in there, taking a dollar donation for charity and giving out small Buck pocket knives. A good deal, and I like Buck knives, but there was a huge line of fans waiting to see 'the' Chuck Buck. I was standing outside when a fellow walked up to me and asked if I was going to get in line for a knife. I replied, no, it seemed like a long line. Plus, I added, I had just bought seven Gerber fillet knives - one in every size they made - and I was really happy with my knives right now. The guy grinned, stuck out his hand for me to shake and said, "That's great to hear. I'm Pete Gerber." as he handed me a beautiful Gerber folding hunter. Whoo Hoo! Score!

Right, I show the second paste I made. The first time I made this recipe I reduced the amounts, but for some reason my math was off and the paste I had was kinda runny. It ended up becoming a surfactant glaze over the whole bun. You could not see any cross at all.

So, we suffered through this tragedy and ate them anyway. The second batch of paste was made of stiffer stock!

Below left are the proofed buns with the paste applied. I did not have a piping bag - I am new to this whole baking world, after all, so I spooned the paste into a ZipLock bag and cut off a corner tip. It worked OK in a pinch!

Below right are some buns before glazing.

And finally, the finished product! Success!

It may not be Heaven, but it's pretty good!

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Fri, 23 Apr 2010 17:10:00 +0000

Well, I finally have it all. So far. For now.

Everything I need to start with Paul's Mellow Bakers!

I have 'the book', have the ingredients, and finally, desperately, I had time.

And best of all, Sister gave me a new scale to work by! Whoo Hoo!

Now it is time to start posting, and with a little effort, that fresh bread upstairs will all be eaten by the time I finish this posting stuff. I mean, what is left of it.

(Yes, I am eating some right now.)

I tried the "Light Rye" first, since it was what I was the hungriest for; also, I just had to use some sourdough starter. Have I introduced Gladass yet? I have had some sourdough starter going for a few months now. A few months? Maybe I should give the time in pounds, because they seem to correspond with one another.

I have had my own pet sourdough starter named Gladass for at least ten pounds now, and I try to feed her regularly.

And yes, I did it the hard way. I initially created one of the most foul-smelling things in the house besides my hiking boots. It took a while, but eventually the 'good' bugs outgrew the 'bad' bugs and we started to make some wonderful breads.

Back to the Light Rye, then. Here is what the book simply labels 'sourdough', a combination of water, rye flour, and some mature starter. By the way, Gladass hates that term mature. Don't use that term around her if you expect to get a raise around this house...

It seemed awfully dry, but I remember reading that sourdough does wonderful things with Rye, and sure enough by the time I tasted it the next morning it had developed quite a tangy flavor.

Yeah, I tasted raw starter.

How else are you going to know?

So, let's just say that I had my doubts about this recipe being anything but another loaf of bread. But, when it was mixing
it really showed some significant strength.

It started out looking too dry, but soon the gluten developed and everything just kinda came together. Looked right, felt right, it was really kind of cool. I sealed it up in a bowl for the 1 hour bulk ferment period called for by Hamelman. And yes, there is plastic wrap on there, and yes, my photo skills are mediocre.

After the hour was up, I folded and shaped it into two small loaves. Frankly, I folded it more than once, because it was kind of fun. Also, I have been making so much sour dough, that I did not assume for as much 'oven spring' as I got. This left me with rather short, but very tall loaves:

Have I introduced my stove, Luke? It started out as 'Mephistopheles', but I could never spell that in a hurry, and 'Lucifer' seemed overworked, so Luke it is. Luke tends to run about 30 degrees hotter than the indicator dial says... ...and once again, he scorched the tops a little bit.

But the girls did not seem to mind...

And so it begins...

noreply@blogger.com (burntloafer) — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 19:32:00 +0000

Er... ...Hi.

I am now joining the millions of bloggers out there.

This is intended to be a blog about my interests, opinions, hobbies, and life.

If I offend anyone, well, sorry about that; I do tend to rant on occasion!

One of the first hobbies to be explored is bread baking.

In the 1960's my mother was a well known bread baker in our little town, and I have vivid memories of how she hand made the bread that we sold on the sidewalk every Saturday morning. This was done primarily because she wanted to buy a Kitchenaid mixer, which seems a little crazy to me at this point. But, she hand-kneaded a lot of bread and sold it at 50 cents a loaf to buy a mixer that would let her stop kneading bread by hand.

Before she died, my mother became a towboat cook. This was a job that brought her immense satisfaction and purpose, along with some requisite grumbling rights. It also taught her that there are lots of foods and lots of food ideas in this world.

But my Sister is an excellent baker and cook as well. Her siblings and friends all knew she was an excellent baker; it was expected, after all. For some strange reason, most everyone who knew our mother was singularly unimpressed at just how good my Sister is; I guess, because they think that she 'comes by it naturally'.

Do not let me mislead you; my Sister did not get a great deal of training from my mother. In fact, our mother was pretty good about not passing on information like that. "Here, use this much." she might say as she tossed a bare handful of ingredients to the mix. "Uh, how much was that?" we would ask, and she would smile and say, " ...a handful." My Sister learned on her own.

I will talk lots more about my Sister later, because I adore her, and she is an incredibly complex and interesting woman, but I told you all of the above just to explain some of my motivation in starting a blog.

While I can be normally be obsessive, nothing motivates crazed activity like fear. I was laid off from work last year, like so many others in the US. While I was off, I built decks, patios, a drive in parking spot for my boat, and then one day I simply ran out of purpose.

In frustration and hunger, I learned to make a lemon pie. I watched Alton Brown's excellent You-tube video several times, and biked back and forth to the local grocery stores, buying lemons and butter and lard. When I got to the point of making a dozen pies a day, and the neighbors were starting to close their blinds when they saw me coming, pie in hand, well, I guess that is when I realized that I liked making food. A lot.

Odd thing, though, was that when I made food, friends and neighbors were somehow shocked and surprised. "That is pretty amazing - for a guy." Not sure how my sister felt about that, but she never stepped on my ego. She requested pies for the holidays, gushed about my crusts, and never let on what everyone knew: She had already been there and done that. Better than I could, too.

My wife kept my ego at bay, though. Once, when I ran short a quarter cup of fresh lemon juice, I substituted bottled lemon juice in with the fresh squeezed. She bit into a slice of pie that night, spat it out, and said, "What? You are using chemical lemons now?"

So with that glimpse at my background, this first post is dedicated to three women in my life. First, my mother, for showing by example that recipes do not control cooking. Second, my Sister, for showing me that unsung heroes are heroes all the same. And to my wife, for gently but firmly keeping me honest, and for buying a "Grown-ass Man" a Kitchenaid mixer!