a couple of years ago, before I began my foray into motorsports blogging and lost my extra sleep time in the winter, I decided that I would learn to bake really good bread from scratch. I had this delightful mental image of myself happily waking at ungodly hours to meld flour and yeast into delicious rising goodness, proudly bringing hot-from-the-oven bread to my family morning after morning like some Pennsylvanian Parisian baker who does nothing but run a patisserie.
Unfortunately, like the rest of the world, I have a non-fantasy job and enjoy my sleep. However, that non-fantasy job comes complete with co-workers who are happy to let their only daughter putter about the kitchen during the slower season when it yields bread of multitudinous varieties. So, one winter I tinkered with bread until I found a recipe that satisfied both myself and my family, and even occasionally that happy mental image.
That one winter there was bread all over the place. I attempted no-knead bread, knead-until-your-arms-fall-off bread, sourdough starter from scratch, quick-rising bread (to miss out on those super early mornings, you know), bread with dried fruit, bread that required a pizza stone, bread that required a dutch oven, bread in tiny loaf pans, bread in a baguette pan, tiny rolls, huge rolls with a crust too hard to use for sandwiches...there was a lot of bread.
Everyone was very patient with me, possibly because they were in some sore of butter and cheese and carbs coma, even shelling out for a good baugette pan and a marble kneading slab. Thankfully, the latter is also great for rolling out cookies, biscuits, and pastry dough. It also stands in well as a cold drinks stand for outdoor parties. But the real purpose was bread.
Sometimes it fell flat (sometimes it still does). Sometimes it was pronounced "delicious!" but it sat on the shelf after a slice or two. Sometimes that last slice molded a day after baking, and very rarely it didn't last the afternoon and we had to scrounge something to go with supper. Once I got to that point, everything but consistency was easy. You see, for a little while, I though I was using the same recipe but all of the above things were happening with different batches. Finally, in late March when winter was just occasionally reminding us that it might come back soon, I got it. Bread that worked, regularly, easily, and often. It's a two day process, but each time the actual work takes less than a half hour. I became the breadwinner.
Bread, hearty and ready for anything
3 packages dried active yeast
1 cup warm, nearly hot water
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 egg
2 to 4 cups flour
Place the yeast in a large (preferably crockery) bowl, adding the water, then butter, sugar, and salt. Stir until the butter is melted and the yeast is mixed into the water. Add the egg, combining well. Then begin added the flour. Begin with two cups, mix. Add another, stir some more. If necessary add another half cup in the bowl, then spread the other half out on your kneading surface. Pour the dough onto that surface and begin kneading.
At this point, you're combining the flour and smacking the dough around to make it smooth and not too sticky. Continued to add flour if the dough remains too wet. You will have a (literal) mess on your hands, but the dough will soon look like a proper lump of bread dough. Wash your hands and the bowl in hot water, then grease the bowl. When you lift the dough, it should stick slightly to the surface it had been left upon, but if there is a massive stick and stretch of dough, get back to kneading and adding flour.
Altogether, this should take about 10 or so minutes. Once the dough is the proper consistency, place the lump into the bowl, cover with cling film and stick it in the fridge. I tend to do this first step the night before, so it raises for 8-12 hours. Plan accordingly.
The next morning, grease your pan (I use a double loaf baguette pan, but you can use any metal pan of your preference). Pull the dough out of the fridge, dump it out onto a very lightly floured surface. Knead for a moment, then separate into to pieces. Since mine is a double loaf pan, I form each half of the dough into a log to fit each side. Place in the pan, scoring the top of each loaf two or three times with a sharp knife.
Cover the loaves with a clean dishcloth and plan on top of your stove (or any other warm place). Turn your oven on to 425 degrees (do this after the kneading so the bread can spend the heating time raising for the second time). Once the oven is hot or the dough is about 1/2 again its size, place loaves into the oven.
The bread usually bakes for a half hour to 45 minutes. Start checking it after twenty minutes, especially once your home begins to fill with the stereotypical scent of baking bread. Once the top of the loaves becomes browned, I often have to gently dislodge the loaves from the pan and turn them over to better brown and bake the bottom half. The loaves will sound hollow when knocked on the bottom when they are done, but one can easily cut one in half and check the doneness in the center of the loaf and return it to the oven if undercooked. Let cool as much as possible before cutting and slathering with butter, brie, or your bread topping of choice.
This bread also works wonderfully as a bruschetta base if sliced 1/2 an inch thick, brushed with olive oil, spread out on a cookie sheet and toasted in a 400 degree oven.
It will make you the breadwinner in your household, too.
"Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." - Garrison Keillor
Unfortunately, like the rest of the world, I have a non-fantasy job and enjoy my sleep. However, that non-fantasy job comes complete with co-workers who are happy to let their only daughter putter about the kitchen during the slower season when it yields bread of multitudinous varieties. So, one winter I tinkered with bread until I found a recipe that satisfied both myself and my family, and even occasionally that happy mental image.
That one winter there was bread all over the place. I attempted no-knead bread, knead-until-your-arms-fall-off bread, sourdough starter from scratch, quick-rising bread (to miss out on those super early mornings, you know), bread with dried fruit, bread that required a pizza stone, bread that required a dutch oven, bread in tiny loaf pans, bread in a baguette pan, tiny rolls, huge rolls with a crust too hard to use for sandwiches...there was a lot of bread.
Everyone was very patient with me, possibly because they were in some sore of butter and cheese and carbs coma, even shelling out for a good baugette pan and a marble kneading slab. Thankfully, the latter is also great for rolling out cookies, biscuits, and pastry dough. It also stands in well as a cold drinks stand for outdoor parties. But the real purpose was bread.
Sometimes it fell flat (sometimes it still does). Sometimes it was pronounced "delicious!" but it sat on the shelf after a slice or two. Sometimes that last slice molded a day after baking, and very rarely it didn't last the afternoon and we had to scrounge something to go with supper. Once I got to that point, everything but consistency was easy. You see, for a little while, I though I was using the same recipe but all of the above things were happening with different batches. Finally, in late March when winter was just occasionally reminding us that it might come back soon, I got it. Bread that worked, regularly, easily, and often. It's a two day process, but each time the actual work takes less than a half hour. I became the breadwinner.
Bread, hearty and ready for anything
3 packages dried active yeast
1 cup warm, nearly hot water
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1 egg
2 to 4 cups flour
Place the yeast in a large (preferably crockery) bowl, adding the water, then butter, sugar, and salt. Stir until the butter is melted and the yeast is mixed into the water. Add the egg, combining well. Then begin added the flour. Begin with two cups, mix. Add another, stir some more. If necessary add another half cup in the bowl, then spread the other half out on your kneading surface. Pour the dough onto that surface and begin kneading.
At this point, you're combining the flour and smacking the dough around to make it smooth and not too sticky. Continued to add flour if the dough remains too wet. You will have a (literal) mess on your hands, but the dough will soon look like a proper lump of bread dough. Wash your hands and the bowl in hot water, then grease the bowl. When you lift the dough, it should stick slightly to the surface it had been left upon, but if there is a massive stick and stretch of dough, get back to kneading and adding flour.
Altogether, this should take about 10 or so minutes. Once the dough is the proper consistency, place the lump into the bowl, cover with cling film and stick it in the fridge. I tend to do this first step the night before, so it raises for 8-12 hours. Plan accordingly.
The next morning, grease your pan (I use a double loaf baguette pan, but you can use any metal pan of your preference). Pull the dough out of the fridge, dump it out onto a very lightly floured surface. Knead for a moment, then separate into to pieces. Since mine is a double loaf pan, I form each half of the dough into a log to fit each side. Place in the pan, scoring the top of each loaf two or three times with a sharp knife.
Cover the loaves with a clean dishcloth and plan on top of your stove (or any other warm place). Turn your oven on to 425 degrees (do this after the kneading so the bread can spend the heating time raising for the second time). Once the oven is hot or the dough is about 1/2 again its size, place loaves into the oven.
The bread usually bakes for a half hour to 45 minutes. Start checking it after twenty minutes, especially once your home begins to fill with the stereotypical scent of baking bread. Once the top of the loaves becomes browned, I often have to gently dislodge the loaves from the pan and turn them over to better brown and bake the bottom half. The loaves will sound hollow when knocked on the bottom when they are done, but one can easily cut one in half and check the doneness in the center of the loaf and return it to the oven if undercooked. Let cool as much as possible before cutting and slathering with butter, brie, or your bread topping of choice.
This bread also works wonderfully as a bruschetta base if sliced 1/2 an inch thick, brushed with olive oil, spread out on a cookie sheet and toasted in a 400 degree oven.
It will make you the breadwinner in your household, too.
"Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." - Garrison Keillor
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