BBA – Ciabatta FAIL

Bread baking mojo, where have you gone??

I think I followed the recipe exactly. I bought a cloche (from Daniel’s Rustic Bread in Canada) and a stone (from Amazon). I read the instructions and reread them about four times and this is what I got:

My dough was unbelievably rigid (even though it rose as it was supposed to) and the gluten just never relaxed. I was afraid it would burn out the motor in my KitchenAid because it kept jamming up. It was as dense and inedible as any of the loaves that caused my fear of yeast. When the recipe called for stretching the dough and showed how supple it was, I knew I was on the wrong track, but I didn’t know how to rescue it.

Be sure to check out the other members of the Slow & Steady subgroup. Nancy will post a round up at her blog, Corner Loaf. I’ll be back when my back, which I blew out over the weekend, recovers enough so I can walk upright again.

TWD – Classic Banana Bundt Cake

I am living proof that sometimes, learning does not occur.

I looked at the title of this week’s Tuesdays with Dorie recipe, I thought “how dull.” I mean, I’ve made hundreds of banana breads, cakes, muffins, cupcakes, smoothies, etc. What did I really need with yet another recipe that starts with mashed extra ripe bananas?

Well, those other banana recipes weren’t Dorie’s recipes. You would think I would have learned by now that Dorie’s recipes are in a class by themselves.

I have a banana bread recipe I have made since woolly mammoths roamed the earth. It’s moist, easy and made entirely in the food processor. I’ve never shared it with you, although I have meant to.

Sharing it is now unnecessary.

Say hello to Dorie’s banana bundt cake. It may be the only banana recipe you ever need.

In the interest of fair disclosure, I have to admit I added a cup of semi-sweet chocolate chips, and I topped it with Dorie’s chocolate glaze. For some unknown reason (operator error? serendipity?), the “glaze” didn’t glaze at all. It became semi firm, and I was distraught that I had done that to my lovely cake. I brought it in to work, wrote a note of apology for the Glaze That Didn’t, and went on with my morning.

And then the accolades started rolling in. People were wowed by the cake. They loved the chewy nature of the Glaze That Didn’t. They told me not to change a thing next time. I hadn’t tasted it yet, so I grabbed a taste thinking they were being kind.

It was fantastic, and I agree completely that the chewy Glaze That Didn’t was perfect the way it was. For as many times as I’ve made banana bread, I’m very ambivalent about it. I like my bananas eaten as a piece of fruit. But this cake changed all that.

Mary of The Food Librarian picked this week’s recipe, and she scored big points here. She’ll have the recipe posted, but be sure to spend some time on her blog. I LOVE her photography and I think you will, too.

BBA – Challah

My bread baking gene, long lost but finally discovered, has made it possible for us to enjoy so many delicious breads in the last couple of weeks. I didn’t think challah could come close to brioche or casatiello, but it did. It was something of a comedy of errors (don’t braid bread before you’ve had your morning coffee) but one that ended well.

This recipe, from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, utilizes the direct method (the yeast is mixed in with the other ingredients). It was easy to put together (until the braiding), and was forgiving of my pouring in too much water and then having to add additional flour (don’t mix your dough when you’ve just woken up from a nap). Because I had added too much water, my dough was stickier than I think it was supposed to be, but when I divided the risen dough into sections to make the strands, I rolled it in some flour to mitigate the stickiness. Problem solved.

I decided to make two small loaves rather than one big one in order to be able to serve “fresh” bread at two different times. Hours apart on the same day. Am I becoming a freshness maniac?

Braiding the loaves was difficult for me (but I’m the same person who had to buy a book when she wanted to learn how to French braid her hair). One of the loaves looked better than the other, but I figured my audience would be forgiving of my braiding goofs. The biggest mistake I made was not tightening the strands in the middle, much like you do when you braid your hair, so the middle of my loaves had poofy strands and the ends had less poofy strands.

Another thing I’ll do differently next time is timing when I make the dough. I made the dough one afternoon, and refrigerated the braided loaves overnight until I needed them. Then, forgetting that they do rise in the fridge, I proceeded to let one of them rise (way too much) at room temperature. Several of my loaves developed blisters at the surface where the dough develops air bubbles. I don’t know why that is, but I wonder if I’m so enthralled with getting yeast doughs to rise that I’m letting them rise too much.

The other loaf I let come to room temperature and baked it without further rising, and it was the best of the two. Both were delicious, so delicious that M. almost ruined his lunch eating pieces of the second loaf, even after I told him lunch was portobello burgers served on challah. I think it would make fabulous French toast, bread pudding or strata.

When you know as little as I do about working with yeast, every experience is an opportunity for learning, and this one was no exception. I came away with new ideas and better understanding of the bread making process.

I’m very grateful to the Slow & Steady sub-group of the Bread Baker’s Apprentice challenge for welcoming me in to their group. It gives me added motivation to keep working through the book, which is truly amazing, and add to my yeast repertoire.

BBA – Challah

My bread baking gene, long lost but finally discovered, has made it possible for us to enjoy so many delicious breads in the last couple of weeks. I didn’t think challah could come close to brioche or casatiello, but it did. It was something of a comedy of errors (don’t braid bread before you’ve had your morning coffee) but one that ended well.

This recipe, from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, utilizes the direct method (the yeast is mixed in with the other ingredients). It was easy to put together (until the braiding), and was forgiving of my pouring in too much water and then having to add additional flour (don’t mix your dough when you’ve just woken up from a nap). Because I had added too much water, my dough was stickier than I think it was supposed to be, but when I divided the risen dough into sections to make the strands, I rolled it in some flour to mitigate the stickiness. Problem solved.

I decided to make two small loaves rather than one big one in order to be able to serve “fresh” bread at two different times. Hours apart on the same day. Am I becoming a freshness maniac?

Braiding the loaves was difficult for me (but I’m the same person who had to buy a book when she wanted to learn how to French braid her hair). One of the loaves looked better than the other, but I figured my audience would be forgiving of my braiding goofs. The biggest mistake I made was not tightening the strands in the middle, much like you do when you braid your hair, so the middle of my loaves had poofy strands and the ends had less poofy strands.

Another thing I’ll do differently next time is timing when I make the dough. I made the dough one afternoon, and refrigerated the braided loaves overnight until I needed them. Then, forgetting that they do rise in the fridge, I proceeded to let one of them rise (way too much) at room temperature. Several of my loaves developed blisters at the surface where the dough develops air bubbles. I don’t know why that is, but I wonder if I’m so enthralled with getting yeast doughs to rise that I’m letting them rise too much.

The other loaf I let come to room temperature and baked it without further rising, and it was the best of the two. Both were delicious, so delicious that M. almost ruined his lunch eating pieces of the second loaf, even after I told him lunch was portobello burgers served on challah. I think it would make fabulous French toast, bread pudding or strata.

When you know as little as I do about working with yeast, every experience is an opportunity for learning, and this one was no exception. I came away with new ideas and better understanding of the bread making process.

I’m very grateful to the Slow & Steady sub-group of the Bread Baker’s Apprentice challenge for welcoming me in to their group. It gives me added motivation to keep working through the book, which is truly amazing, and add to my yeast repertoire.

BBA – Casatiello

If you’ve ever wanted to learn how to bake bread but thought you couldn’t master it, you need to check out The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. This wonderful book has a wide variety of breads organized from A-Z. We started with anadama and now we’re on casatiello.

Casatiello is an Italian bread with added richness. Traditionally made with salami and cheese, I opted for just cheese (I used Emmenthal). I was delighted that this recipe is a one day prep, unlike many of the breads in the book. With M. newly home from a quick trip to China, I knew that homemade bread would make the turkey sandwich I planned for lunch extra delicious.

It feels weird, but the preparation of this bread was unexciting–no measuring snafus, explosive rising or confusion on my part. After adding the flour and eggs to the sponge, the mixture is beaten for a minute before resting and then adding the softened butter. While this dough isn’t enriched as much as the brioche, it definitely has its share of fat. Since I wasn’t using the salami, I increased the cheese to 1 1/4 cups of coarsely shredded Emmental. It rose rapidly, and I split it between an 8×4 loaf pan and an 8″ round cake pan. It smelled wonderful in the oven, and it was done after a total of 35 minutes in the oven.

My 8″ round cake pan isn’t nonstick, and since the cheese migrates to the surface, I did have some sticking with that one. Next time, if I use this pan, I’ll oil the pan instead of using cooking spray.

Once again we didn’t wait the full hour before cutting into this one. I mean, warm cheese bread, who can resist?

As much as we loved the brioche, we loved the casatiello more. Much more. It made turkey sandwiches extra special, paired well with a lentil chili I made earlier in the week and was just plain delicious by itself. Where the brioche was almost like eating cake, we most enjoyed the casatiello as we stole pieces through the day.

I will defintely make this one again, and I’d like to try an olive oil version. I’ll also cut some of the cheese in julienne instead of shredding it. The shredded cheese disappeared into the bread, and I’d like to have some small cheesy pockets.

BBA – Casatiello

If you’ve ever wanted to learn how to bake bread but thought you couldn’t master it, you need to check out The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. This wonderful book has a wide variety of breads organized from A-Z. We started with anadama and now we’re on casatiello.

Casatiello is an Italian bread with added richness. Traditionally made with salami and cheese, I opted for just cheese (I used Emmenthal). I was delighted that this recipe is a one day prep, unlike many of the breads in the book. With M. newly home from a quick trip to China, I knew that homemade bread would make the turkey sandwich I planned for lunch extra delicious.

It feels weird, but the preparation of this bread was unexciting–no measuring snafus, explosive rising or confusion on my part. After adding the flour and eggs to the sponge, the mixture is beaten for a minute before resting and then adding the softened butter. While this dough isn’t enriched as much as the brioche, it definitely has its share of fat. Since I wasn’t using the salami, I increased the cheese to 1 1/4 cups of coarsely shredded Emmental. It rose rapidly, and I split it between an 8×4 loaf pan and an 8″ round cake pan. It smelled wonderful in the oven, and it was done after a total of 35 minutes in the oven.

My 8″ round cake pan isn’t nonstick, and since the cheese migrates to the surface, I did have some sticking with that one. Next time, if I use this pan, I’ll oil the pan instead of using cooking spray.

Once again we didn’t wait the full hour before cutting into this one. I mean, warm cheese bread, who can resist?

As much as we loved the brioche, we loved the casatiello more. Much more. It made turkey sandwiches extra special, paired well with a lentil chili I made earlier in the week and was just plain delicious by itself. Where the brioche was almost like eating cake, we most enjoyed the casatiello as we stole pieces through the day.

I will defintely make this one again, and I’d like to try an olive oil version. I’ll also cut some of the cheese in julienne instead of shredding it. The shredded cheese disappeared into the bread, and I’d like to have some small cheesy pockets.

BBA – Middle Class Brioche, aka The Brioche That’s as Big as a Turkey

I am thrilled, thrilled I tell you, to have been invited to join the Bread Baker’s Apprentice Slow and Steady subgroup, because BBA is closed to new members and I just found my yeast muse. When I posted that I had made Anne’s yeast rolls, and then the anadama bread from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, I thought I was embarking on the journey of baking through the book on my own. Thanks, Nancy and Audrey for your kind invitations.

My yeast fear has completely abated and I now want to bake bread all of the time! While I do plan to go back and make up the breads I missed, I decided to jump in and make brioche before attacking the next recipe.

Brioche evokes images of tender buttery rolls that are splendid with jam or, gasp, Nutella. Since making this brioche intersected with the brioche tart that Tuesdays with Dorie was making, I decided to make the BBA brioche and defer making Dorie’s for another time.

Before I got bitten by the yeast bug, I used to read my fellow bakers post that they whipped up a batch of brioche to use for… I thought they were insane overachievers. Wasn’t something as ethereal as brioche the result of a full weekend of work, nurturing and coaxing? Uh, no. It’s so easy even I can do it wrong and still get a great loaf.

Let the yeast proof with some milk and flour.

Combine the flour, yeast mixture and eggs and beat until combined, then add the softened butter a little at time. Beat with the paddle attachment of your mixer (I’m not yet brave enough to knead my doughs by hand) for about 8 minutes, spread on a sheet pan and allow to rest in the fridge for at least 4 hours or over night. Divide the dough and shape as desired.

Since my brioche pans haven’t arrived yet, I made one loaf, two tartlets and stuck 13.7 ounces of dough in the freezer (can you say “sticky buns?”) My loaf proofed in the oven on the dough proof cycle. developing a large blisterish thingy on it. I’m not sure what causes that, maybe adding 50% more yeast than needed?

I only made one mistake. Although I was making the middle class brioche, I referred to the rich man’s brioche when measuring the yeast. The rich man’s brioche requires more yeast due to the higher percentage of butter. I’m happy to say that this didn’t ruin my brioche, but it did give us quite a laugh as it was baking. M. said it looked like I had a turkey in the oven. When I took it out of the oven, M. asked me how long we had to wait to have a piece. When I told him an hour, he let me know that it was unreasonable to expect him to wait that long for something that smelled so good. We cut it after 30 minutes, and it was rich, light and airy. I explained the difference between rich man’s, middle class and poor man’s brioche, and he was surprised that we weren’t eating the rich man’s. It was such a big hit that I’ll be making the rich man’s and then the poor man’s. I think middle class is the way to go, but you won’t find me complaining about eating more brioche.

Delicious, but not beautiful

BBA – Anadama Bread

If you asked me ten years ago if this post could ever happen I would have snorted with laughter. No way I could ever make a loaf of bread that

a) rose and

b) cooked through and

c) wasn’t like chewing on a foam mattress.

After reading so many of my favorite bloggers successfully baking bread from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice: Mastering the Art of Extraordinary Bread and raving about the quality of the instructions and the results, I broke down and bought the book. The day after it arrived, I sat down and started reading. And the next day. And the day after. I started thinking I could do this. So I thought about joining the BBA blog event, but discovered it was closed.

Then a little voice in my head suggested I bake Anne’s rolls, and I did. And they were great. So I decided to attack the book, and start at the beginning as the blogging event did. The first recipe is Anadama bread, which has molasses as its dominant flavor agent. True to form, I messed up almost immediately, adding all of the flour to the sponge mixture instead of just 2 cups of it. I realized immediately, and almost tossed the mixture in the trash and started over, but I thought I’d see how it worked out. The mixture did start bubbling, just like it was supposed to, and we were back on track. Since I was doing this in the evening (again), I again cheated and used the dough proof cycle of my oven, which creates a 100 degree environment for the dough. The book tells you that every 17 degrees of ambient temperature halves (if it’s warmer in your room) or doubles (if it’s cold in your room) the proofing time.

After the dough rose, I divided it and shaped it (not very well) and put it in the loaf pans to rise. Each rise took about 45 minutes. I put one of the loaves in the fridge to hold for a day or two before baking (there are only two of us, and one loaf of bread is already daunting). Then we were ready to bake the loaf.

The recipe calls for rotating the pan 20 minutes into the baking. Since I have a convection oven, I figured that was unnecessary but decided to do it anyway because, well, I wanted to give my loaf every opportunity to turn out right.

After ten minutes, I turned on the oven light and saw this:

You may not be able to tell from the photo, but the bread continued to rise in the oven and was now being constrained by the top rack. What?!? I quickly took out the top rack and hoped for the best.

After 45 minutes, I took its temperature. It registered 209 degrees, and I took it out of the oven. It was (to me) a thing of beauty. Crisp crust that echoed when I thumped on it. Unfortunately, it was already 11:00, past my bedtime, and I went off to bed. But as soon as I woke up, I sliced off a piece and enjoyed it with my coffee.

It was fantastic! I think (from looking at the sliced loaf) that it could have baked for another few minutes since there’s a little area that looks a little darker than the rest. It didn’t taste any different from the rest of the piece, so maybe not.

I no longer fear yeast. I learned that baking bread isn’t especially hard, that yeast isn’t particularly finicky, and that nothing makes your house smell better than bread baking. But most importantly, I learned I can do anything I set my mind to. I learned not to doubt myself or tell myself “I can’t.” Because that can become a self fulfilling prophecy.

ALERT! ALERT! I made Anne’s YEAST rolls

Dear Anne,

I know you’re really busy, now more than ever since you and your Tall Man are expecting your second child. Sorry, I don’t mean to shout, but I’m very excited. See, I’ve never successfully baked bread before. I have a powerful and yes, irrational, fear of yeast. But your post on November 25, 2008 changed that. At the time, my kitchen was under construction, but this recipe, and the ease with which it can be made, was burned into my memory, which is normally not a good place to store information I’ll need later.

We have foaming!

In a fit of kicking myself over not having joined the Bread Bakers Apprentice group now that they’re closed to new members, that little voice in the back of my head (the one I usually ignore) said “Why not just make Anne’s rolls?”

Why not indeed. So I did. Most normal people wouldn’t start making rolls at 8 PM, but I did. At 11:37, the intoxicating smell of baking yeast rolls wafted through my home. I knew they would need to cool off some before I could test them, so I waited a full minute. I know, I’m very patient.

I made the plain ones and goodness are they tasty! In fact I ate…several…of them before staggering off to bed. I know, not a good idea, but I hadn’t eaten dinner. That was my rationalization and it worked for me. I ate one after screaming cats woke me up at 4:30 AM and it was infinitely better than the ones I scarfed down when they came out of the oven. I ate others with grainy mustard and sliced turkey. Still others with Trader Joe’s Apple Cranberry Chutney. They were all fabulous.

Anne, I can’t tell you how excited and, yes, emotional I was. This was conquering a lifelong belief that I couldn’t make yeast breads. Too hard. Too finicky. Requires big muscles. Requires the bread gene, which I was born without. Thank you from the bottom of my bread loving heart.

Love,

Leslie

Ever since Anne at Anne Strawberry wrote about these rolls and how easy they are, I planned to make them one day. At the time, I had a good excuse not to because the kitchen was being renovated. But the kitchen has been done for more than 6 months, and still no foray into the world of yeast that I fear so much.

Anne’s recipe is so accessible and idiot proof (and therefore perfect for moi) that it requires no big muscles, hauling out the KitchenAid, or special flour. All you need is a couple of bowls, a fork and a baking sheet. Because Anne assured me that anyone could do it, I felt calm and in control (which I normally feel in the kitchen, but this is yeast, my nemesis). Because I started this odyssey at 8 PM, I cheated a little and used the “bread proof” cycle on my oven because the second rise was taking forever (not really, but it was 10:15, and I was tired). That made the second rise go much faster.

Since M. was still out of town and not due back for a few more days, I froze one third of the unbaked rolls (before the second rise), and I refrigerated the other third. Both of these batches sprung back to life when left at room temperature and were identical to the ones I baked fresh. Well, except the frozen batch. I brushed them with garlic butter before baking them, so they were nice and garlicky.

If you’ve struggled with yeast doughs before, try Anne’s recipe. It’s so easy, even I could do it. And that’s saying something.

ALERT! ALERT! I made Anne’s YEAST rolls

Dear Anne,

I know you’re really busy, now more than ever since you and your Tall Man are expecting your second child. Sorry, I don’t mean to shout, but I’m very excited. See, I’ve never successfully baked bread before. I have a powerful and yes, irrational, fear of yeast. But your post on November 25, 2008 changed that. At the time, my kitchen was under construction, but this recipe, and the ease with which it can be made, was burned into my memory, which is normally not a good place to store information I’ll need later.

We have foaming!

In a fit of kicking myself over not having joined the Bread Bakers Apprentice group now that they’re closed to new members, that little voice in the back of my head (the one I usually ignore) said “Why not just make Anne’s rolls?”

Why not indeed. So I did. Most normal people wouldn’t start making rolls at 8 PM, but I did. At 11:37, the intoxicating smell of baking yeast rolls wafted through my home. I knew they would need to cool off some before I could test them, so I waited a full minute. I know, I’m very patient.

I made the plain ones and goodness are they tasty! In fact I ate…several…of them before staggering off to bed. I know, not a good idea, but I hadn’t eaten dinner. That was my rationalization and it worked for me. I ate one after screaming cats woke me up at 4:30 AM and it was infinitely better than the ones I scarfed down when they came out of the oven. I ate others with grainy mustard and sliced turkey. Still others with Trader Joe’s Apple Cranberry Chutney. They were all fabulous.

Anne, I can’t tell you how excited and, yes, emotional I was. This was conquering a lifelong belief that I couldn’t make yeast breads. Too hard. Too finicky. Requires big muscles. Requires the bread gene, which I was born without. Thank you from the bottom of my bread loving heart.

Love,

Leslie

Ever since Anne at Anne Strawberry wrote about these rolls and how easy they are, I planned to make them one day. At the time, I had a good excuse not to because the kitchen was being renovated. But the kitchen has been done for more than 6 months, and still no foray into the world of yeast that I fear so much.

Anne’s recipe is so accessible and idiot proof (and therefore perfect for moi) that it requires no big muscles, hauling out the KitchenAid, or special flour. All you need is a couple of bowls, a fork and a baking sheet. Because Anne assured me that anyone could do it, I felt calm and in control (which I normally feel in the kitchen, but this is yeast, my nemesis). Because I started this odyssey at 8 PM, I cheated a little and used the “bread proof” cycle on my oven because the second rise was taking forever (not really, but it was 10:15, and I was tired). That made the second rise go much faster.

Since M. was still out of town and not due back for a few more days, I froze one third of the unbaked rolls (before the second rise), and I refrigerated the other third. Both of these batches sprung back to life when left at room temperature and were identical to the ones I baked fresh. Well, except the frozen batch. I brushed them with garlic butter before baking them, so they were nice and garlicky.

If you’ve struggled with yeast doughs before, try Anne’s recipe. It’s so easy, even I could do it. And that’s saying something.