Pain à l’ancienne plus updates

Yeah, again, it’s been a minute. I bake, but I don’t write about what I’ve baked.

Since the last post, I’ve started a sourdough starter, made crumpets with its discard, made bread from it, and baked ciabatta, practiced shaping boules, made baguettes, bought a new oven, and ugh yeah, done some things, man.
Here are pics

This is the pain à l’ancienne, my new fave.

Crumb detail
The sourdough

First baguettes

FBoule and scoring practice with French Country bread

I can’t remember what bread this was. Let’s just call it bread.

Brioche buns

Raisin focaccia

As I wait for the next stretch and fold for this foccaccian foccaccia

I know. It’s been a minute. I haven’t forgotten about this blog. And I definitely haven’t forgotten about baking. I’ve been baking. And when I haven’t been baking, I’ve been reading about baking, talking about baking, thinking about baking, planning my next bakes. The sweet bakes are nice and all, but they don’t really move me. I think they’re kinda boring. And I didn’t always think this. I used to think that the creativity in baking was just about solely in the domain of pastrymaking. Total BS.

 

Each bread dough is a mystery to me. Within the same four simple ingredients: flour, water, salt, and yeast lay the potential for an innumerable amount of flavors, textures, smells, gustatory experiences yo. I’m just amazed by this. I’m so excited by how little I know and understand about the processes involved. It’s a whole new world. This is from a song. A whole new woooorld with dundun dun da duuunnn du dunnn and da da da duun da dunn dun du dunn a whole new world  and yes I did sing that out to myself in order to type it to you because that’s just the type of person I am. You’re welcome. I also googled the few words of the song I know + the fact that it’s gotta be from Disney. It’s a song from Alladin.

 

I’m making another foccaccia tonight. It will be ready by morning. Since it’s the weekend, I’m up all night, reading about bread, sometimes doing homework, passively watching Netflix. The weekend is my excuse to be reckless.

 

I made a poolish for this foccaccia: 120% hydration. The foccaccia is 40% poolish with an overall 79% hydration. Man, I like the calculations. I like that there’s a way to keep everything adaptable. The more adaptability , the more creativity.

 

The more I read about breadmaking, the more contradictions I find. These are good contradictions. There are so many methods, so many different ideas of what makes ‘good’ bread. There are so many variations of the same type of bread, and it still amazes me that so many of them come from four simple ingredients: flour, water, salt, yeast. Dafuq I love it. And there are so many ways I can handle these ingredients. I can mix the yeast in the flour the same time I mix in the salt, or I can save the salt for later so as not to put a damper on the yeast’s development.  I can let the flour and water chill and autolyse (digest itself) for an hour or so before I even think about the yeast to lessen the need to knead. And I can stir the ingredients with a spoon or with my hand, and if I use my hand, I can spread and contort my fingers into a claw, like the ones you make when you pretend to be a tiger (come on, everybody’s pretended to be a tiger at least once in their lives) or I can press my fingertips together as if trying to hush somebody up.

 

 

A tip I figured tonight:

• Keep a small bowl of cool water nearby to help quicken the finger clean-up after each stretch and fold

 

Possibly another post once the foccaccia’s done.

Sunday Double Bake: Cake and Scones

flour/butter/sugar/salt/lemon/eggs/ricotta

flour/butter/sugar/salt/baking powder/baking soda/buttermilk

Sunday sweets for my sweet!

So fucking cheesy, call me gruyere.

Speaking of cheesiness, I baked with cheese. Ricotta. I made a lemon ricotta cake. I didn’t appreciate the nudity when I took it out of the oven, so I made a glaze. Unlike the thin glaze I made for the lemon lavender cake, I used a greater proportion of confectioner’s sugar. In addition, I added poppy seeds because why not. They were in the cupboard. The poppy seeds turned the glaze a pretty mauve, which made me think of lavender, so I grabbed the box of lavender from the cupboard and dusted some buds into a thin trail down the middle. The cake then looked too dark, which made me think of lemons because lemons, being not only a main ingredient in the cake, are also bright in both color and flavor, so I shaved a bit of zest on top as well.

Here’s the result:

i didn’t know how to get it out of the pan.

Here is me eating the result:

like eating cumulus clouds

And the recipe for the naked (sans glaze) result. I didn’t have nearly enough ricotta as called for by the recipe, but the texture and flavor came out very pleasurable regardless. Salty, creamy, fluffy, sweet, and legit just melts in the mouth. I don’t want to go too pornographic here, so Ima just stop right now.  I’m going to make this cake again though, tweak it some. It’s missing a flavor. Something herbal, earthy, woodsy, grounding in a sense. Like, rosemary, sage, or thyme. We’ll see with further experimentation.

I didn’t just make a cake yesterday, as the title of this entry reminds. I also made scones (recipe here). Scones that don’t really look like scones because instead of rising, my sweet little triangles spread like the face of a middle-aged man. Look:

Proper scone:

source: allrecipes.com

 

My scones:

A young Leonardo DiCaprio (I almost typed DiCrapio hahaha Leonardo DiCrapio, I wonder if he’s ever been called that? Hahaha)

A current-day Leonardo DiCaprio:

It’s that spread though.

Still tasty (the scones), at least according to my partner. I didn’t eat any, just felt like baking. He told me the flavor and texture both reminded him of something his grandmother used to make, pancove. It was the salty sweetness and the puffy texture that brought him back, the only difference being that pancove is fried and scones are baked.

I wonder why a spread occurred instead of a rising. According to Google, my butter wasn’t cold enough. I’ll try freezing the butter next time. I’ll use less buttermilk as well.

Things I would like to learn:

• How to take a cake out of a tin without breaking the cake. I don’t know, I’m guessing butter’s not enough? Because I greased that pan yellow. Parchment next time.
• How to bake scones that don’t look like a middle-aged L. Dicap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Womp Womp

This one is a bit of a disappointment. It doesn’t taste bad, just plain and a little sour… not interesting at all. The texture is soft, chewy, and has a lot of give; it’s bouncy. And I like that. But, the flavor… meh. It can’t compare to yesterday’s loaf, like buddah dat one.

So, what was different?

1. I used a different brand of flour.
2. I used fresh yeast instead of active dry.
3. I may have overproofed, but I really have no idea. I get so confused by this whole “doubling in volume” bit that the bread making instructions mention.
4. I did a 35 minute autolyse and folded just once instead of kneading.
5. I tried to create a warmer environment for fermentation and proofing, the two fermentation periods.
6. I measured the temperature of the cool water required for the dough, and it’s a lot warmer to the touch than what I used yesterday. Maybe the cool water kept the dough temperature lower during both fermentation periods which allowed for a more complex flavor.

Tomorrow, I’m going to do something closer to what I did with yesterday’s loaf. I’m also going to keep the temperature cool for a slower fermentation. I’m not going to try to rush anything.

A Simple Bread

flour/water/salt/yeast

Just those four ingredients: flour, water, salt, and yeast. Yet, this bread tastes like butter. 

1:30AM

I definitely need to pay more attention when converting volume measurements to weight measurements. I super fucked up on how much I hydrated the dough, and the thing is, I had no idea. I thought maybe it was supposed to be so wet?

After a ridiculously messy kneading session (parts of my onesie are completely splattered with dough, and before typing this draft, I scraped a bit of dried dough from my glasses. I’m glad I bake when no one is home.), I decided to throw away the dough and start over. That’s when I realised my mistake of adding almost double the water necessary.

I now use Traditional Oven for all my measurement conversion needs.

 

 

 

 

 

Here is what the dough looks like after I learned of my mistake.

Better. And yes, that’s splatter from the previous dough on the wall. ::shrug::

It’s kinda nice to make so many mistakes and to realise how little I know about something I’ve been eating and feeling and seeing all my life: bread. Bread is a fucking mystery to me. How cool is that?

Here’s the dough after I kneaded it. I used a really soothing and gentle method that I found on youtube. It was so relaxing that I was worried I had overkneaded the dough.

1:47AM

I’m super impatient about this fermentation. I was rushing to restart everything, so I’m not sure I waited long enough for the active dry yeast to activate. It did foam but not tons or foam…. Still, there was foam. I should be good.

4:45AM

I just took it out of the oven to check on it. The steam that rose shocked me and I dropped it /on something clean so it’s okay!/ I did the knock-knock on the bottom test to hear for the hollow sound, and I think I heard it? But, the color of the bread is so light. I couldn’t get the oven to reach even 200°C. It’s mostly been at 170°C. It’s so temperamental.

I took the bread out about 5 or so minutes later.

5:42AM

It tastes amazing, so amazing I don’t know what to do with myself. Am I about to eat this entire loaf? I may just. fuck my life, I may just. It tastes like there’s butter in, but there’s no butter. Just flour, salt, water, yeast. My god. Yeast is amazing, how it can create so many varieties of complex flavors. Whoa nelly. Here it is.

The crust came out pretty light because of the relatively low temperature of the oven. It looks a little doughy in the upper middle of that slice, but it’s properly baked. I just cut it too soon (not cooled enough).

Here’s a close-up:

Look at all the little holes! I cut it a little too early because I didn’t really wait until it was cool to the touch. But, man, so yummy.

The urge to eat all of it has totally gone away. I remembered that I’m the one who baked it. It’s not from some expensive bakery a couple bus rides away or something someone’s grandma made. I made it. Which means I can make it again. I don’t know if it will taste the same, I mean, flavor comes from the fermentation process, and I don’t know enough/have the means to control this 100%. I like that I can’t control it for now. This means that each yeast bread will be a bit of a surprise 🙂

And yeah, I baked this while staying up all night. The all-nighter thing is a weekend ritual. My partner works nights on the weekend, and I like adapting to his schedule (means more time together). It also makes it easier for me to leave the rest for him:

Cardamom Spelt Soda Bread

I went rogue this afternoon.

spelt/whole wheat/baking soda/salt/sugar/buttermilk/cardamom

I made up a recipe.

I went to the natural foods store to buy myself a box of lavender tea, and I came home with not only 20 sachets of lavender to brew but also a kilo of fine spelt flour that was on sale, ten days away from expiration. Must bake before waste. But, bake what? I’m not putting spelt in a baguette. Heresy. And a baguette is on tonight’s baking menu.

Soda bread.  My current go-to when I want to play with flour and put something into the oven. Max 10 minutes of action + 50 or so minutes of waiting = bread.

I started with the spelt. 330g weighed then sifted. I then weighed and sifted 100g of whole wheat flour. This whole wheat was so whole I found a wheat ear in my strainer. I felt so rustic in a good way. I also added the remainder of an almost empty bag of grits because why not.

I stirred all the dry ingredients together with my hand and created a well in the middle. Into that well, I poured the buttermilk, stirring it in with a wooden spoon until the mixture became a shaggy mess (shaggy mess, this term keeps getting thrown around in so many of the recipes that I’ve read. I like it. shaggy mess. no, you’re a shaggy mess!)

Once out of the oven, I let it cool on the clothes drying rack underneath a damp towel to avoid too crisp a crust. I don’t have a drying rack. I tried to find one at the mall. No luck. It’s not necessary though. The clothes drying rack is perfect, plus spring is just about here, so for about 6 or so months, we won’t need it for clothes anyway.

Here is the final result

It tastes pretty good, saltier than expected. I think the spelt holds the salt well-dispersed much better than the white flour that I’ve used in the past. I love the rough mealy goodness of the whole wheat, and the cardamom really compliments the flavor of the spelt.

If I had gone full 100 on my urges to experiment, I would have added raisins. I really wanted to add raisins, but the analytical part of brain reminded me about the weight of the raisins possibly affecting the rising, which would then require an adjustment to how much baking soda I use, and too much baking soda with too little buttermilk can create a soapy taste instead of the light sweetness that occurs when the basic of the soda hits the acid of the buttermilk, and I don’t want to add too much buttermilk because that makes for too much spread and a flat as fuck bread and are you feeling the anxiety yet? Okay, so no raisins this time. Raisins next time after I do a little bit of research. That cardamom is begging for raisins. This bread is still tasty though!

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Cardamom Spelt Soda Bread (a recipe in the making, still in its experimental stages)

• 330g spelt flour, weighed then sifted
• 100g whole wheat flour, weighed then sifted
• 20-30g grits
• 1 tsp baking soda (I added 1.25, but I think 1 tsp and a pinch is better)
• 1 tsp salt (I used 1.5 of celtic, but felt it a little too salty)
• 2 tbsp sugar
• 1 tsp cardamom
• around 420 ml buttermilk

tools:

• big bowl
• wooden spoon (optional)
• silicone spatula (helpful, but totally optional)
• baking sheet
• parchment paper
• wet sharp knife
• toothpick

1. preheat oven to 180-200F (I have a crazy oven, so I’m chill about this)
2. put parchment on baking sheet
3. mix the dry ingredients together (I think I stirred at least 30 times)
4. make a well in the middle of dry mixture
5. pour in your buttermilk and stir with your hand or a stiff wooden spoon
6. when it’s a shaggy mess, like you see no streaks of buttermilk and at least 97% of the flour is incorporated, plop it onto the parchment-lined baking sheet
7. use either your hands or a silicone spatula to shape it nice and round
8. use the wet sharp knife to cut a cross into the dough (I cut deep) and re-wet the knife with cold water between cuts
9. put in oven
10. wait
11. stick with toothpick to see if done (if the toothpick comes out clean) and also knock on the bottom of the bread (does it sound hollow? if so, done)
12. cool on a drying rack, under a damp towel if you don’t want the crust to get very crisp
13. when totally cool, eat

Burger Buns

yeast/flour/water/egg/butter/sugar/salt/oil/sesame seeds

Today, I made burger buns. I rolled dough into little balls, brushed their tops with eggs and milk (this is what gives them their shine), and dusted them with sesame seeds. I remember my thoughts when I randomly placed that bag of sesame seeds into my Carrefour shopping cart, “What the hell am I going to do with these? This is a really big bag.” In yo FACE, Shantai from two and a half weeks ago! Burger bunzzz!

As you can see, they’re all a bit different. No two are of the same size or shape. There’s the baby one, the fat uncle, the grandma with the snaggle tooth…. A happy family , half of which are currently being destroyed by the collective force of me and my partner’s digestive systems.

…

I kneaded dough for the first time.

I took this picture about five minutes in, and I then kneaded for six minutes more.

I put the kneaded dough into a large oily plastic mixing bowl, covered the bowl with plastic wrap, and let it sit near my furnace to keep the yeast warm and toasty. About an hour and 45 minutes later, when it doubled in size, it became so much fun to play with, this cool stretchy gracefully goopy mass. I felt like a kid again, and the only one home to see my excitement was Phoebe. This is Phoebe.

She was as ‘over it’ during my moments of excitement as she looks in this photograph. I love her.

Here are the balls of dough I rolled from the fun goop.

And here they are after resting under a towel for about an hour.

 

Things I learned today:

• What people call warm and tepid is actually quite hot to me, which explains last week’s series of yeast disappointments. Thank you, thermometer that I accidentally purchased online when I didn’t know what an oven thermometer looked like! You’ve come in handy, meat thermometer.
• Kneading is a lot of fun! You push and fold and turn and push and fold and turn. I love the way the dough feels underneath my hands, how it pushes back. It feels so interactive, and I’m reminded that the dough is alive (yeast). Also, it really is hard to overknead by hand because it sort of hurts to knead (hurts to need, omg I love it).
• Burger buns are super easy to make (recipe here).

 

I made burger buns today. 😀 Never in my life did I think this would be a thing for me to do. I always associated burger buns with bread aisles in grocery stores and picking off the stale bits when I got home. Not anymore! Fresh burger buns are now a thing in my life. I feel so free, so less dependent upon what my local supermarkets decide to provide. It’s a cool feeling.

Lemon Lavender Tea Cake

milk/eggs/vanilla/water/lavender/butter/sugar/flour/baking powder/salt/powdered sugar/lemon zest

When I was eight, I made cakes. They came in boxes, and I added eggs and milk. And I poured the batter into greased round pans, licked the leftover from the spoon before my mother could see, and 45 or so minutes later, there was cake for the family to eat, sometimes iced with funfetti.

That was a long time ago. Now, no boxes, just scratch, baking from scratch. “Cream the butter” – dafuq does that mean? I now know, obvi.

I’ve loved the smell of lavender for as long as I can remember. Back when I worked at a tea shop, I would regularly brew a strong cup of lavender bud tisane, pour the hot liquid over a tall glass of ice, add a bit of lemon juice, watch the whisps of yellow disperse and fade, and drink in that peace, because it is peaceful: lavender tastes just like it smells. It soothes. So, why not bring that to the oven?

I looked through a number of recipes courtesy of Pinterest’s amazing search engine and found one that made me rather happy (recipe here). It lacked the lemon, so I added two teaspoons of lemon zest (found other recipes for lemon cake that seemed to add about a teaspoon of lemon zest per 100-120g of flour).

What I love best about this recipe was the part that called to heat the milk and lavender buds to a simmer. The milk was infused with the flavor and the scent of the lavender, so the entire batter was as well.

Back to that creaming the butter, it’s not as gross as it sounds. I have no special tools, so I needed Google’s help. How does one cream the butter and sugar by hand? By using the back of a fork. Easy enough. It smelled like frosting.

This cake was yummy. It lasted for, I don’t know, I think two hours? It’s definitely something I will make again, and I’ll tweak the flavors just a bit as flavor combining is a fascinating art-science.

Irish Soda Bread

425g pastry flour, weighed then sifted
1 3/4 tsp salt
1 1/8 tsp baking soda
510g buttermilk

(recipe taken from: Stella Parks’ Real Irish Soda Bread)

I love Irish soda bread. It looks like some rustic Game of Thrones type shit. And it tastes yummy and spongy, perfect for soaking up soups and sauces.

Before today, I didn’t have any way of knowing the temperature of my oven. All my eight or nine days prior of baking has been a lot of guesswork, random estimations, gut feelings, and intuition. I liked that. But, today, my oven thermometer arrived in the mail. I took it out of its wrapping and had absolutely no clue how to use it. Here are the things I did with it before looking to Google for help:

1. Pressed the thermometer against the glass of the oven door and wondered how it could stay there without the pressure of my hand.
2. Opened the oven door and tried to close it again, this time with the bottom of the oven thermometer in between. It did not fit.
3. Talked to myself and confused myself further.

Google was a great help. Here’s what Google said to me (and I paraphrase):

“Let the thermometer hang from the area of the rack where you typically bake shit.”

And that is what I did. I found that my oven is sort of batshit. Some background info on my oven:

• It has no temperature markers. It’s got off,  on,  and light me up.
• It does not close on its own. I use a long piece of thin rubber tubing tied to the door handle and to the stovetop rack to keep it closed, and it never fully closes.
• It takes a long ass time for my oven to heat up, and it loses about 15° C or so when I open and close the door.
• Still, it bakes shit. It baked all the following prior to my knowing that I was baking a lot of things at like 150°C, a bit too low for bread.

Anyways, this recipe calls for 232°C, something even after 2 hours (fuck the gas bill) my oven could reach only 200°C. I baked the bread anyway. 67 minutes. A bit too long, purposely as I was trying to compensate for the low temperature, but I don’t think I’ll do that again.

It came out a bit too brown in my opinion, though my partner thought it was bomb. I used pink himalayan salt which affected the coloring of the crumb, as you can see. I think I’m going to just make bread the way I like it, not just as the recipe states. It also spread more than I would have liked. Less buttermilk next time. Or maybe the quality of the buttermilk had an effect. No clue. More experimentation is required.

I miss relying on my intuition, the way the dough feels in my hand, that little timer in my mind that prompts me to check the oven or to turn the oven a bit stronger or lower in fire. I say I miss that as if I were a longtime baker, but still, that first week of discovery was amazing. It awoke something in me, something I didn’t even know was asleep, something I didn’t even know existed. And I love that. I love baking.