Showing posts with label bread. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bread. Show all posts

29 September 2009

It's official: summer's over. We close the windows at night, we brush leaves off the windshield, I've lured my sweaters out of hiding, and finished knitting my first scarf of the season. Fall is wafting in and with it notions of soups, breads, and pies.

This week a surprisingly all-American menu:
- No-Knead Bread
- Roasted Chicken
- Apple Pie

The No-Knead bread recipe comes from Jim Lahey at Sullivan Street Bakery, via the New York Times and it's truly fantastic. (It's especially fantastic for someone with hand and/or wrist problems.) Mark Bittman sums it, "The loaf is incredible, a fine-bakery quality, European-style boule that is produced more easily than by any other technique I've used, and will blow your mind." (Read the full article here.) The majority of work in the recipe is done by time -- the long fermentation and wetness of the dough take the place of kneading. George bulked up this loaf by adding flax meal and sunflower seeds, but didn't add any extra liquid. So instead of being a sticky, soupy mess, it was a dry, clumpy pile. The finished bread was...rustic but tasty. The recipe makes it simple to add nuts or seeds or to substitute different flours, but if you add much more dry than 3 cups, add a little extra water.


After a season of mediocre soups last fall I refuse to do it again. We'll begin at the beginning this time: with stock. In preparation for chicken stock next week we decided to roast a whole chicken this week*. News flash: roasting a whole chicken is incredibly easy. For a 4 1/2 lb bird we put a large cast iron skillet in the oven, then preheated it to 450, slathered the chicken with butter, sprinkled on some salt and pepper then put the buttered bird in the hot skillet and roasted it, uncovered, for about 40 minutes. Now we have plenty of meat for sandwiches and plenty of bones for stock next week.



Like I said, it's pie time. Pie crust is something that's given me trouble in the past. You know the trouble I mean: tearing when rolled out, too thin, too sticky, burning, flavorless, or not even faking flakiness. This time I showed that crust who's in charge. Answer: me. I cut the fat in with a food processor and only until there were pea-sized pieces of fat. I think I'd been over-incorporating it, not realizing that little chunks of butter are absolutely necessary for flakiness. The other necessity for optimal flakiness: cold fat. (I say "fat" and not "butter" because you could use vegetable shortening or lard - which is apparently coming back into fashion.) When the cold chunks of fat melt away in the oven it creates the delicate layers of baked dough. I started with cold, cold butter, put the discs of dough back in the fridge for a hour before rolling them out, and even put the completely assembled pie in the freezer for 10 minutes before putting it in the oven. Was it all worth it? Absolutely. While the crust could use a little more salt or sugar (I haven't decided which yet) it turned out to be, hands down, the best pie crust I've ever made. I used some Granny Smith and some Honeycrisp apples which made for fine flavor - not overly sweet, or overly tart, but I could have gone for more flavor. Luckily we're in somewhat of an apple capital so I've got many many more varieties of apples to experiment with.






No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Jim Lahey & The New York Times

2 c. whole wheat flour
1 c. white flour
1/2 c. flax meal
1/4 c. sunflower seeds

1 5/8 c. water

1/4 t. instant yeast
2 t. salt

Combine flour, yeast and salt in a large bowl. Add water and stir until blended - dough will be kind of shaggy. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest in a warm place 12 to 18 hours.

Lightly flour a work surface, place dough on it, sprinkle with a little more flour and fold dough over onto itself a couple times. Cover with plastic wrap, let rest for 15 minutes.

Use just enough flour to keep dough from sticking to you or the work surface, shape dough into a ball. Generously coat a cotton towel with flour (cornmeal or wheat bran work also) and put loaf seam side down on it, then dust with a little more flour. Cover with a clean towel and let rise for 2 hours. (The dough will have doubled in size and when poked won't really spring back.)

1/2 hour before baking preheat oven to 450 degrees and place at 6 to 8 quart dutch oven in to heat as well. When the dough's risen, carefully take the pot out from the oven. Turn dough over and place in pot seam side up. Cover with lid** and bake 30 minutes, remove lid and bake another 15-30 minutes, until crust is nice and browned.





*The chicken we purchased came with the most ridiculous sticker: one advertising a free music download.


**If you're using something like an enamel coated Le Creuset pot, you may want to unscrew the knob from the lid, some of them aren't prepared for higher oven temperatures.

18 August 2009

Around the same time I thought Cream of Celery Soup was hip and good, I tried making pitas. They proved undeniably more delicious than the soup, but for some reason I quickly lost interest. Having gained about two and a half years of bread experience and more in the way of patience, I'm ready to try again.

This week:
- Pita Bread
- Falafel & Yogurt Tahini Dressing
- Sauerkraut
- Peach White Wine Sangria


First, let's talk about sauerkraut. George is really into it. Billed as a sort of probiotic, it's healthy, it's German - what's not to love? We took a trip to the WNC Farmer's Market and purchased four cabbages for about $4.50. The lady we bought them from pegged us from a mile away, "Somebody's makin' 'kraut!" The thing about sauerkraut is that all the beneficial enzymes are already present in the cabbage, all it really takes is a little shredding and a little time. George's method is as follows: shred the cabbage, place it in a large bowl, add 2-3 T. salt, stuff it all in large jar, and wait a week or so. Specifically, he punches it into the jar - he swears it's crucial. (I see some experimenting with sauerkraut's spicier Korean cousin, kimchi, in our future - stay tuned.)

Falafel intimidates me a little bit, it's the fear of failure. What if they all fall apart? What if I end up with a pile of crumbly bean bits? It must be difficult to prepare. Here's what I decided, it's not earth-shattering, but it's easily forgettable: all the ingredients are tasty on their own. So, theoretically, when combined they remain tasty - whether or not they retain their intended shape. (Maybe someday I'll recount the tragic tale of my fresh fruit tart. Tragic.) The Falafel Burgers from a couple weeks ago have been in regular rotation in my kitchen for a few years. I see them as easy to whip up, easy to bake, easy to keep all week. What never really crossed my mind is that actual falafel could be easier. News flash: it is!


This actual falafel recipe is from Mark Bittman's Best Recipes in the World, a cookbook I highly recommend. (It's chock full of great international recipes, easy to grasp, and so far - simple to prepare.) Here it is: some garbanzo beans, some onions, some spices, parsley*, and an egg have a run-in with a food processor. Then they get rolled into little balls and take a dip in a couple inches of hot oil. Then we were left with a bowl of the best homemade falafel anyone could hope for.



George classified the falafel as, "f#$%ing perfect." With the help of James Beard and Beard on Bread we made them truly perfect - inside fresh pitas. It's the formation of one giant air bubble that creates the pocket in a pita. Actually, it's a lot of little air bubbles expanding and bumping into each other to become one big one. The outside of the loaf becomes tougher before the inside so the bubble doesn't burst through the crust (most of the time.) If you sit, eagerly waiting and watching the pitas bake up you'll see it happen right before your very eyes! (We watched all of them, and even tried to make a video - unfortunately it came out pretty awful.) One of the keys to a successful pita is not letting them become too crispy or dry, which can lead to malfunctioning pockets or generally too-dry bread. I timed ours at about 3 minutes and as they came out of the oven I stacked them one on top of the other and wrapped them in a damp towel, to finish cooling I stuck them into a paper bag (sans damp towel.) Another key is baking them on a stone, we used our pizza stone. Don't let me fool you - Pita Bread is wicked easy, apparently great to try with kids and can be baked in all sorts of ways: in the oven, on the grill, in a skillet.


I found this great video from Julia Child's show "Baking with Julia". This dude, Jeffery Alfred, guides Julia through the process. I had a hard time paying attention, mostly because of his haircut and partially because of his weasley Mr.-Roger's-esque voice.

Peaches are in season, maybe you've noticed. They're pretty inescapable down here. I hear there's debate over whether Georgia peaches are superior to South Carolina peaches or not. It would be like the debate about whether Vermont maple syrup is superior to New Hampshire or Canadian maple syrup**. In reality, I don't think there's a noticable difference. My peach pallete definitely isn't refined enough to honestly tell the difference, but that's really beside the point. Now that the peaches have soaked up some sun their headed to soak up some wine.


Epicurious is a pretty great resource, which is where this Peach White Wine Sangria recipe was found. I warn you, though, it's pretty sweet - literally. In fact, it's too sweet for George to drink. So if you don't dig the sweetness I'd recommend decreasing the sugar or increasing the wine. Or maybe even a little extra lemon juice, or in my case remember to put the lemon juice in period.

Peach White Wine Sangria
From Gourmet via Epicurious

1 c. loosely packed basil + 8 or so extra leaves
3/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. fresh lemon juice
2 cans peach nectar
1 bottle chilled dry white wine
1 large peach, chopped

Put basil, sugar, and lemon juice in a small saucepan and bruise the basil with a wooden spoon. Add one can of peach nectar and bring to a simmer, stir until the sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat and let stand 5 minutes, then drain through a seive into a heatproof pitcher and discard the basil. Add in the wine, the other can of peach nectar, the chopped peach and extra basil leaves. Chill!


* So. The parsely. I naturally said, "Parsley, smarsley!" George somehow convinced me it was vital to the dish and that we wouldn't have a ton left over. We currently have a large bunch of parlsey withering away in the vegetable crisper. I'm glad the parsley's in the falafel, but hope to have a healthy crop of my own before I ever need it again.

** For the record, VT maple syrup has been and always will be superior - duh.



14 August 2009

While this project is still young, last week I was overwhelmed with some form of writer's block. Despite countless rewordings I couldn't come up with anything satisfactory to say about the dishes, so I'm going to break down real simple: Basil good. Garden good.

From last week:
- Penne with Pesto, Onions & Peppers
- Fresh Salsa
- Sourdough Bread
- Pretty Beets & Carrots
- Mushroom Bacon Fritata


After the whole rain/sun/rain/sun/time passing thing our basil was ready for harvesting and boy, did I harvest. After picking over and measuring...presto: pesto! About two cups of pesto! All the foods instantly became the kinds you make and want to eat all of as quickly as possible. The pesto ended up in a bowl full of penne with sauteed peppers (two of which actually came from our garden!) We got our act together and fed the sourdough starter and ate almost an entire loaf when it came out of the oven. Friends came by bearing a gift of a huge heirloom tomato which became salsa. Beets and carrots and ginger all jumped into the food processor then swam in oil and vinegar and were a salad. The good bacon was on sale, I was too lazy to make pie dough, we had a fritata for dinner. It may not have been eloquent, but it sure was delicious.



Prettiest Beets & Carrots
Based on Pretty Beets & Carrots from Moosewood Restaurant New Classics

Shred:
2 large pretty carrots
2 large pretty beets

Put the shredded roots in a large, pretty bowl and...

Add:
1 T. fresh, grated ginger
3 T. apple cider vinegar
2 T. vegetable oil
1/3 c. finely chopped scallions
salt & pepper to taste



21 July 2009

The Plan

Most people try to eat well, myself included. It occured to me recently that while I try to eat well my largest hurdle is much more basic than eating more greens or protien - it's making the time to eat. Since I graduated from college I've been working in bakeries, my years split fairly evenly between breads and desserts. Right now I make cakes. My work days start early, which doesn't bother me. (Have you even been out in a city before everyone else wakes up? Pure. Magic.) The real challenge is managing to eat breakfast, pack a lunch, a snack, take one's vitamins and get to work on time. I usually make two of those five things happen and end up eating a couple bagels everyday or a bag of pretzels or relying on little bits of frosting and coffee to keep me going. If only there were a way to avoid this...
I've got a new plan - I've been calling it "Food Day." It's a day devoted to making food for the week: breads, salads, hummus, granola, a big bowl of tuna for sandwiches, etc. and rinsing and chopping whatever vegetables we've got leftover. G and I tested out the first Food Day this past Sunday (the day we're both off from work) and so far have deemed it a success. The other part of the plan is that I share what we're making, how it turns out, and some recipes with yooou!

Here's a list of what we tackled:
- sunflower millet bread
- granola
- "pasta bake" (you know, pasta with a bunch of veggies, baked with cheese)
- chicken salad
- three bean salad
- zucchini bread
- we toasted some almost-stale tortilla chips













Food Day Granola

3 c. rolled oats
1 1/2 c. sliced almonds
1/4 c. sunflower seeds
1/4 c. flax meal
1/4 c. honey
3 T. maple syrup
1/4 c. vegetable oil

Mix it all together and toast on a sheet pan in a 350 degree oven, stirring occasionally until golden brown - about 25 minutes.


I know that big companies have been spending all sorts of time and money into make quick foods for "families on the go," but I'm just not that into them. I want to make foods that work for me, that I can make myself - I've got a kitchen, a little know-how and, just as important, a fearless companion.