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Bread, Boules & Brothers

by MsNickel on January 26, 2012

See that face? He’s maybe 6 or 7, and not happy that he has to sit with the “baby”. That being me, two years younger, and happy as a clam to be with my “big” brother.

I am happy to say that over the years, he softened that look and became my defender, my confident, my teacher, my friend. Oh, believe me: we had the struggles of the teen years and the estrangement of the 20’s, but that is a story for another time.

My brother is one smart guy. There is nothing he cannot do, and if he wants to learn something, he does it from the ground up. Interested in pottery, he decided to build a kiln so he could really understand the process. He machined all the parts for it too.

When our parents aged, and as the sibling living closest to them, their care became a big part of his life. We talked often, and as events and illnesses progressed, we became closer as the tough decisions had to be made. I could go on for pages about Jim: his kindness, his commitment, his never give up attitude, but this is about us & bread.

He gently prodded me for years to quit working and when I finally did, he was delighted. Perhaps even more than me. Pundits say that the bond between siblings can be stronger than that of parent to child. I don’t know about that, but I know that there are few people I would rather spend time with than Jim.

One of the first things I did when I quit working was to start a sourdough starter. In another life, one from a million years ago I had one on my sink for years. I baked bread every day, for a lot of people, and although I didn’t always use sourdough as a leaven, I used it often. A twitter-found friend sent me some starter. It sat in the fridge while I was in Italy saving, er rewarding myself.

When I returned I fed it. I dusted off a copy of Bread Alone, and started looking at the internet and some some sites devoted to sourdough. I started to bake. And take notes. And bake. So much bread! My neighbors and friends benefited from this obsession.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, Jim came down to visit. We talked about how basic this bread was, how elemental: just flour & water, and some patience and a fine loaf can be had. He left with a portion of my starter, and the need to know if he could make an eatable loaf from the 700 lbs of hard red winter wheat he has stored. Of course he could. Now he bakes a loaf very few days, using his own stone ground whole wheat flour, and makes a great loaf using a sourdough starter. You can see his bread pages here. Jim’s Bread. Make sure you scroll all the way down to see the lovely whole wheat loaves.

I have thought a lot about bread and why it held such significance for me. My dad baked bread every few days until right before he died. My mother collected bread crumbs. I wrote about baking bread & my Dad and Mom here.

I have been following a number of the #baketogether group on twitter for some time. This months’ peasant boule challenge from Abby Dodge’s bake together seemed a perfect way to refresh the starter after the holidays and bake a loaf. I decided that I would do a breadcrumb loaf using sourdough as my main leavening agent.  This loaf uses left over breadcrumbs for texture & color.

I baked the loaf three times. Two are shown in the picture below. The one on the top was baked using a ring to hold the slightly wetter dough. The one on the bottom was a dryer dough from a long ferment time in the fridge, and was free form.

Bread Crumb Bread

Make a sponge using:

1 ¾ cups starter on the up-(approximately 3-4 hours after feeding)
1 ¾ cups unbleached white flour
¾ cup water

Mix sponge well, and let ferment 5-6 hours

When the sponge is ready, stir it to remove air and put it in a stand mixer bowl with

½ c coarse bread crumbs
2 3/4 c unbleached white flour
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp baking powder

*2 tsp salt

Mix for a minute, then let rest in the bowl for 5 min. Add *2 teas salt and knead on low for 6 minutes. Put in an oiled container-I use a plastic shoe box, or the proofing bowl. Let rise for 3 hours with folds at 60 min & 2 hours.

Punch down, and roll into ball. Rest for 5 minutes. Shape the dough into a boule, and use a spring form pan ring to hold it, if the dough is on the wet side, on a silpat covered sheet. ( You can retard at this point, and ferment over night in the fridge.)

Let rise for an hour.

Preheat oven to 450, and prepare it for steam.( use a shallow pan on oven floor) When the oven is hot, make quick slices in the top of the bread, and then slide the sheet with the boule into the oven.

Put a small amount of cold water in the shallow pan. Watch out for the steam. Quickly close the oven door and turn the oven down to 400. Bake for 25 minutes, or until 200 degrees inside (use insta read). Let cool for at least an hour before slicing, if you can.

{ 6 comments }

Bay Leaf Liqueur: travel accidents & good things

by MsNickel on January 4, 2012

Bay Leaf Liqueur

I sat alone in the almost empty restaurant in Orvieto. Trattoria Del Orso- Kristina had recommended it so highly, and wrote about it here, (scroll down to read about Orvieto.) The tourist office didn’t have it listed, and when asked about it said they were out of business. Never deterred, Mr Google Maps showed me the way. It was a bit hard to find, and looked like it was closed, but I cautiously opened the door anyway to a bright, but mostly empty room. Not a good sign, but there were some people there. People sitting at a table in the center of the room looked me over, and then waved me in.

I sat, back to a corner, head in my Kindle. There was one other table, 2 couples: one American and the other British, obviously long time customers, along with a few single men, who hustled between kitchen and table.

It didn’t take long for me to figure out that the owner/cook was the expressive talker sitting at the other table, and the server was his long time companion. He took my order, complimenting my choices: guinea fowl in truffle sauce, mixed grilled vegetables and wine.

I listened, bemused by the boisterous mixed of Italian and English being spoken across the room. There is a bright green liquor being served out of an unlabeled bottle…hmmm. I wondered why the restaurant was empty. The food was insanely good, but each table had a reserved sign on it. Perhaps it was just late for the lunch crowd. I stretched my meal, lingering over the wine, borrowing from the camaraderie across the room.

When the “server” comes to clear the table and bring me coffee I told him that the restaurant had been recommended by my daughter, and that she , her husband and two friends had eaten there in March of 2008. He paused, thought a minute and asked where I was from. I told him and he thought about it, then started a perfect description: “Yes Yes! I remember them, your daughter, she’s a chef and her husband, the friends they were 2 women… her husband and one of the women, orders extra pastas—lots of wine. We took pictures outside. My name is Ciro-I am in the picture with her husband.  I remember! Very nice—she has a restaurant in Santa Monica—We go to Santa Monica because Gabriele has a sister there. I remember your daughter—very nice, takes pictures of the food. She invited us to come to the restaurant the next time we come to the US.

Of course, understand that while he is going on about this, in English, he is also speaking rapid fire Italian to explain this lovely coincidence of memory and time to the people at the other table and his partner. Soon we are all speaking English and laughing about the intersections of life. I tell them I am traveling alone for a few weeks, then meeting K in Naples.  We talk of books and travel and how small the world is.

That’s when they bring the bright green liquor back out, and offer me some. Bay Leaf . Heavenly scent. Kick like a mule.

The Brits & the Americans both have houses outside the town, and spend months on end here. Gabriele was in the fashion biz in the US for years, until he retired to open this restaurant in Orvieto 15 or so years ago. The reasons why the tourist office tells people they are closed is a funny story in itself, and goes right along with why there are reserved signs on every table. These stories are for another time, though. More bay leaf shots are poured. Politics, fashion find their way into the discussion.

I am amazed that I made it back to the B&B. A long nap followed. I will say that after several more meals there, and extended pleading I got the recipe for the Bay Leaf liqueur. I share  how it was told to me:

1. Get a big jar. Take 100 leaves—they must be very fresh.

2. Pour a liter of WGA over the bay leaves. ( I use 190 proof cut 40%- You can use a decent vodka too)

3. Cover and set aside in a dark place for 3-4 days. Check daily and swirl around. Do not leave them too long as the leaves will brown and discolor the liqueur.

4. Make a simple syrup of 600 grams sugar and a liter of spring water.

5. Strain the leaves, add the cooled syrup and blend. If necessary for consistency, you can add a ¼ cup of glycerin.

6. Store in a tightly closed bottle, in a cool dark place.  I do keep a small bottle in the freezer because I like it very cold.

 

 

 

{ 12 comments }

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