second try at biga

April 30, the beginning of my 'weekend'.

Last night, after getting off work, I put together a biga.  I looked at my little notebook, where I've been recording the details of each batch.  I carelessly stopped at the most recent page that said 'biga' and measured out the flour, water and yeast listed there.  There were actually three column of figures; I assumed the right hand column was the biga.

Wrong.

Now I'm going to have to back calculate to figure out how to create a dough of some sort out of this biga.  This morning when I thumbed through the book, having had my doubts about what I had done, I found a more detailed notation about the proportions for the biga.  I used way too much flour for two loaves.

I had bumped into Rosemary and Richard after work on Friday.  They prattled on, as they do, and a lot of it was about the impossibility of getting good thick heavy whole-wheat bread here.  I said I would make them a loaf.  I felt challenged at the reference to 'thick and heavy' in the same sentence as 'whole wheat'.  Supposedly at the King Arthur class I took with Ruth back in 2009 I learned how to overcome that characteristic.

But first, clean house!!

The Ciabatta finish

April 29, evening


First attempt at ciabatta

First, I cannot get my oven hot enough.  Second, I tend to forget to spray, I am not getting enough steam in there.

After 20 minutes I took one loaf out and stuck it with the thermometer.  It took a few minutes to finally register, at 184 degrees. It must reach 205!

I put it back into the oven.

Also, Peter says it should have a hard crust, which will soften once it cools.  But the crust on this is not hard.  Nor is it turning golden brown.

The house is filling with the aroma of garlic.

The guard came back to the door at 9:48 a.m. to say that the owner of that flat is not renting.  So I don’t need to go looking at an apartment, at least not this morning.  Drat. They will keep their eye out, though, I know.

I wish we could rent the larger storefront here at Xin Cheng and just let me live in the back…

After 30 minutes of baking, the second loaf registers 185.5.  ???  I put it back in, they continue to bake.

The ciabatta should only bake for about 25 minutes.  But if indeed my oven doesn’t get hot enough, I hope that leaving it in a little longer will only bring positive results.

After 35 minutes of baking I removed the two loaves.  They came off the parchment easily, when I took each out to take its temperature.  In the end, the thermometer never registered over 185.  What does that mean?  Is the thermometer wrong, or is it possible that the loaves can be cooked at such a low temperature.

They are obviously cooked.

I had one of the pain a la with a fried egg for breakfast.  The rest I took to work.  I put a notice up on the Changzhou ex pat web site that there was bread free for the taking to anyone who came by the Web office.  But it is a rainy day; no takers.

Blake worked the early shift, and took one of the ciabattas home with him.  The other I nibbled at all afternoon, having had nothing else besides the egg breakfast but a bottle of yogurt.

At the end of the day, one little pain ala loaf is in the freezer, the other in the kitchen awaiting consumption tomorrow.

Pain a l' Ancienne, take two

April 29.  Somewhere around Aunt Pearl's birthday.  Resting with the angels, I salute you.

Friday night after work I mixed up a batter with the flour marked 'protein 13%'.  It did not say 'bread flour'.  I put it in the fridge.

This morning GiGi woke me up at 3:30.  She restlessly roams the house at night looking for ChuChu, calling out to her.  She takes me to the door, I open it, she walks out on the landing and sniffs, and listens, until someone in the building turns over in bed and she scurries back inside.  My heart aches, too, for our little wild child who has gone back to nature.

While I was up, I took the batter out of the fridge.  After all, last time it took a good four hours for the batter to wake up.

I got up at 7, and found the batter fully 'inflated' with bubbles.  By the time I assembled all I needed to work it, it seemed to me it had deflated a little.  My imagination?

I divided the batter in half as I removed it from the bowl.  At first I put the other half in the fridge, on a greased and floured parchment paper and covered with plastic wrap sprayed with oil.

As I started working the first batch, I remembered the final lines in the shaping-instructions paragraph.  This second batch, if left at room temperature for an hour or two, "would resemble and perform like ciabatta."  So I took it out again and let it sit while I shaped the first half.

This dough is pliable, not wet, not difficult to manage.  Remember, I used only 10.5 ozs of water, instead of the 11.8 or so on the previous batch.  The next try will use perhaps 11 ozs.  Different flours behave differently, so I can't make that a hard and fast rule.

It was easy to gently pull and shape it into three long pieces.  I let it rest five minutes, before shaping it.  It was a little sticky, I certainly needed the generous flour dusting on the board and on the plastic bench scraper, but it was much easier than the last time.  I scored the tops 'like for french baguettes'.  I poured the water into the hot pans, placed on the open rack close to the top burner.  Steam rose, but I probably lost it while I opened the door to put the shaped loaves in.  I probably should have added the water after the bread, but I was too nervous about dripping water on the bread.

I sprayed the walls three times, in 30 second intervals.

After 8 minutes I shone the flashlight through the glass door and observed that they were baking evenly, so I did not disturb them to turn them 180 degrees.  They baked a total of 20 minutes.  At the last I saw that they had not turned 'golden brown', so I removed the obstructing water pans from the top rack and switched the burners to 'broil' mode.  Just a couple of minutes did it.  The turned a nice color, and true to what Reinhart describes, little spots showed up where the sprayed water had reached the dough.

Second half of batter, 'Ciabatta'

After putting the first batch in the oven I went back to the text book and quickly read up on the ciabatta instructions.  I wasn't sure how the remaining batter was to come out like ciabatta.  I only saw one difference that I could include, which was to fold the dough over on itself.  But then it was supposed to go through a proofing stage after that, and another shaping and stretching.

I don't know what the heck I'm doing.  What is ciabatta?  I have no clear recollection of ever eating it, nor Pain a l'Ancienne for that matter.

So I took these two chunks of dough, and gently stretched and pulled them long and wide.  Then I sprinkled on them minced dried tomatoes, pressed garlic, and dried Italian herbs.  On one I also gently dropped beads of olive oil.  The other I left dry.  I then folded them, and put them on an oiled floured parchment.  I looked at the book again, and noticed that they should be shielded by a couche.  Well, too late now.  I folded up the parchment paper in between the two pieces.  This step is mean to shape them, let them get height instead of sprawling out, I guess.

Interruptions


A guard just knocked on my door.  He informed me that the apartment office had found an apartment to show me, if I still want to move.  I looked at the clock, and told him I'd be free in about 40 minutes.  So as soon as the 'ciabatta' is baked, I'll go see if I have a new place to live.

Into the oven


Too late, I noticed that my little rising buns were sitting naked to the air.  That's a no-no.  That allows a skin to form on the dough, which then prevents the dough from rising in the oven.  Belatedly, I laid on top of it the oiled plastic wrap that I had used earlier.

Although it does look like the dough is rising in this proofing stage, I don't have time to leave it any longer.  It has rested for less than an hour, after shaping.  And into the oven it goes!

Of course, writing this blog at this moment is a distraction, and Peter clearly warns that total focus is needed.  I forgot to do the second and third sprays!  Nor did I note the exact time the bread went in; I wish I had my timer back.  Angela inherited it when I left Guza in 2007, and I noticed she is still using it in her restaurant.

The bread is rising nicely.  I'll leave the results for the next blog.

Jane and I look at storefronts

Sunday, April 29

Jane picked me up after work yesterday at 5.  She was eager to show me a place, as was I.

The place she found has a lovely brick plaza or patio, protected from the street noise by a tall stand of oleander.  It is at the entrance to a large park.  The breeze was lovely.

The shop space was actually the 'basement' at ground level of an apartment building.  It was enclosed with a fancy wire mesh; no walls on two sides.  It was probably 120 sq meters, maybe more, with a stairwell in the middle leading up.  It would take tremendous remodeling to shape it into our bakery and cafe.  There were no water pipes, no drains.

The loveliest attribute is also its greatest disadvantage.  It would be difficult for foreigners to find it.  The avenue T's at this point.  There are no shops on the corners.  No landmarks.

She had not yet inquired about price.

Then we went to the place I described in yesterday's post.  She thought it too small.  I started chanting my mantra:  'Start small'.  For the Chinese mentality, it is less desirable to go to a place that holds 100 people and find ten, then to go to a place that holds eight people and find ten.  They follow the trends.  And maybe that's not just Chinese?  Well, at least until we have established our reputation, that is a truism.

She saw the tables extending outside from the front door.  I noticed that parking lines had been drawn only one car deep, and that was 20 yards away from where our outdoor patio would end, and adjoining the place where the green verge begins.

We both eyed the adjacent property.  It was 100 sq meters, with lots of glass and a kind of bay window.  She wrote down the phone number, and will try to contact the owner to make enquiries.

I learned that Jane's husband is a policeman, and that she 'owns' what sounds like either a landscaping company or a landscape architecture firm.  Couldn't tell by her description, with our limited language skills.  When we talk, we slip back and forth between Chinese and English, and often come to an end of words before ideas.

I brought her to my apartment to show her the spreadsheet I had drawn up.  She also saw the business plan, but could not read it.  We made a list of things we have to do, prioritizing them.  First, find a supplier for flour!!  I gave her Mike's phone number, while explaining the situation as I understand it.  Maybe he'll talk to her, maybe he won't.

She, of course, asked if I live alone.  And do I like living alone.  This is the common question in the minds of all Chinese, who hate living alone.  She thought it would be a good idea for me to move in with her parents, who also live in a posh apartment complex overlooking the lake at Xin Tian Di park, which stands between it and the Web office shopping center.

I actually considered it.  But then, if I quit Web and work full time in the business, and if we decide on my Xin Cheng location, it makes better sense for me to find another apartment in the complex where I live.

We then had dinner together, in a nice cafeteria style specialty shop serving different kinds of baozi, Chinese steamed and stuffed buns.  She ordered me radish buns, which were scrumptious.  It has been ages since I've had baozi, ever since I stopped eating meat again.  It's too difficult for me to order.  But she taught me how, and I can once again enjoy this typical Chinese food, during my lunch break at Web.
So far, so good.  

coffee; a cafe?

April 28.  Tomorrow I will go with Jane to look at properties.  She wants us to locate in the same shopping area where my Web school is, a brand new area that was still under construction when I first arrived in Changzhou in 2009.  There is a landmark TV tower (like a space needle) there, and a public plaza hosting events in good weather.  Lots of expensive restaurants and department stores surround the tower.

COFFEE

This incarnation of the culinary dream had Blake being responsible for the coffee.  Since Blake is no longer in the picture, I've had to consider what role coffee plays in the Plan.

A year ago I was saying to the Web students, in the English Corner, how I was wanting to find green coffee beans and roast them myself, grind them and brew FRESH coffee for their tasting pleasure.  I felt sure they would change their attitudes towards coffee if once they got a taste of real coffee, the naked bean so to speak. I knew the cost of importing an electric coffee roaster would be very, very high.  I hesitated, finding it hard to justify such an expense.

But the concept remains.

Angela and I Skyped recently, and chatted about our respective eateries.  She is now living in her restaurant in Tagong/Lhagong (Sichuan), and has customers this early in the season.

She gave me a useful lead, for finding good coffee.  She told me about a company called 'Chicago Coffee' in Hainan.  I googled it, and found a fellow there, Chris Alford, who considers himself a coffee aficionado and had a coffee shop there in Hainan.  His tastes tend more towards the espresso end.  Nevertheless, he was able to turn me on to a supplier of quality Yunnan beans.

The Ai.ni Company, in Kunming, sent me a sample of their three roasts.  The seal on the package gave a roasting date of three weeks earlier.  Still, the coffee ground up smoothly and brewed up with lovely flavors and aromas.  I think that with tender care I could achieve my ends with this coffee.

CAFE

I live three kilometers northwest of my school.  I am a quarter mile or less south of the main canal.  The canal is traversed via a long, landmark bridge that is beautifully lit at night. The intersection just south of my flat is a major intersection, served by 12 bus lines.  Construction adjoining my apartment complex has just been completed, providing empty storefronts facing this busy intersection.  China has a problem with over construction, so that often the ground floor storefronts stay vacant for a long time, literally years.  However, there is already an Audi dealership opened here.  This property is hot!  I found out that I can rent one of them, 45 square meters, for only 68,000 rmb/year.  This is amazingly cheap, and the owner can only guarantee that price for one year.   It is deep.  I imagine the bakery in the back 3/4 of the place, with a serving counter up front.  Perhaps another counter with stools facing the glass front.

But why not also put a barrier of flower planters extending out from the front door, with a few tables and benches out there.  It is southwest facing.  Can you see it?

These are my thoughts these days.  It is hard to contain my excitement.

Meet Jane

April 26, 2012

Yesterday I went to the WuYi office at my apartment complex, and said my lease would soon be up and was there another flat available.

They said they’d look around for me.

This morning I woke up and said my prayers, making a special request for clarity about my next step.  The lease is soon up, followed by the Web contract.  Mike and Sophia have abandoned the bakery business. Should I keep trying to do the bakery business on my own, now asking around among my Web students for another investor, or should I pack it in and go to Mexico.  Lord, show me the way.

I had a break at 3:00, no class scheduled.  Rena approached me and wanted to introduce me to someone.  Perfect timing!  I sat and talked with this woman, who, Rena said, was interested in hearing about my business.  Rena had filled her in, as I have talked a lot to her and the other tutors about the ups and downs of this thing.

This lady, Jane, has very limited English.  She is a recently new student here at the school.  She was wearing a dark business suit with a nice salmon silk blouse.  She asked me some questions, ending with ‘what would you like me to do?’

I laid out the moneys I’d need.  I illustrated it freely on the whiteboard, including diagramming the place I had found for 68,000, 45 sq m. transforming it into a bakery, with counter space in the front partitioning it off from the back.

I explained how it would work, that we needed 600,000 for the first year.  How I projected an income of 300,000.  She concluded from that that we only needed to raise 300,000.  It doesn’t work that way, though, does it?  She intelligently asked, what if we come to the end of our 300,000 and it isn’t enough.  What do we do then?

I didn’t know what answer she had in mind.  Find more investors?  What options did we have, I wondered.

And just how deep are her pockets, I wondered.

She asked me why I wanted to do this business.  What did I want out of it.  I told her the money didn’t interest me, so much as a) the joy of baking and creating something new, and b) being able to offer to the ex pats something of home that they really miss.  Good bread!

This seemed to resonate with her.  She too, she said, wasn’t focusing on the money side of it.  If true, this is refreshing.  So much of this culture is money driven!

Rena’s face was alight with joy and expectation, as she asked, is this what you were looking for?  I told her about starting the day with that prayer.  She said then, to one and all on staff, that Rena is now my Angel!  I heartily concurred.

Hope seems to have moved back onto the front burner.

pain a l'ancienne

Peter Reinhart says this is actually the easiest bread to make.  Or did he say simplest?  Hmm.  In some ways, yes.  It doesn't require kneadings and repeated risings.  But handling it requires skill, which I hope I can acquire with more experience.

First of all, I suspect I used too much water.  The directions called for from 9 to 12 ounces.  I used just under 12, thinking that a fresh flour absorbs more water.

So I dumped this coagulated fluid mass onto a well floured, parchment lined board.  I was supposed to roll it and gently pull and stretch it, being careful not to degas it.

I had halved the recipe.  Yet I saw that it all wouldn't fit in the small oven at once, so I cut the mass in half and put the remainder in the fridge until after the first batch baked.

I used huge quantities of flour.  It was a sticky mess.  The directions said to dip the scraper into ice water and gently divide the batter.  What a joke!  All that did was make the parchment paper a soggy mess, which then threatened to become mixed in with the batter.

Had I sprayed oil on the parchment it would not have stuck in the oven.  As it is, one batch had a parchment paper veneer.  But obviously I couldn't use oil while I was working the dough on the board, and moving it once it is shaped was, in this instance, impossible.

Eventually I got the batter divided into three pieces, and slid them, on their parchment paper, onto the awaiting hot stone in the oven.

I sprayed the walls with water.  Closed the door, waited 30 seconds, and sprayed again.  A third time, and then I left the bread to bake.  The instructions call for a 500 degree, even 550 if possible, oven.  Mine goes only to 230 C, which is about 450.  So I didn't bother to turn the temp down after ten minutes.  After 30 minutes I rotated the stone.

I had bought a thermometer on Taobao, but it is a candy thermometer, not the 'instant read' that Reinhart says to use.  I put it in the bread, then had to stand there with the oven door open and my hand burning while it slowly registered the interior temperature of the bread.  It never did get to 200 degrees, but I pulled the bread out anyway after 50 minutes.

Then I took the second batch out of the fridge.  This one responded a little better to handling, and actually rose nicely in the oven.  I forgot to do the spraying immediately, so it was a tad delayed.  Did this add to the dough's ability to rise?  Being in the not-hot-enough oven for five minutes without being molested, before the spray?  Did the spray do any good, after the skin had already been blasted with the hot dry heat?  All questions for further research.

Then comes the inevitable 'what will I do with this batch?'  I don't dare leave it with me.  If I eat everything I bake, I'll destroy this wonderful weight loss I'm experiencing.

When the small loaves were cooled I wrapped them in parchment and labeled each for delivery.

But it was time for lunch, and I needed some bread with my eggs.  So I ate one!

In spite of the appearance, it was actually quite good.  This recipe seems to be the basis for ciabatta and foccaccio, of which I am no officionado.  It is chewy, a tight crumb with large holes, and a light taste.  It uses no oil, making it lower in calorie than my sandwich bread.

Eaten on the first day, the crust is crunchy.  On the second day it has lost the crunch, but the chewiness is very satisfying.

I will try this one again, using a different flour.

I brought one of the pieces the same night to Dustin, the chef at the German restaurant upstairs from my Web English Training School.  He wasn't there, but I left it for him.

A few days later I went in to see him, and ask if he had received it.  He is a handsome young man, probably not thirty.  His English is charming, lots of mistakes, and a German accent.  He warmly took my handcocked his head and looked into my eyes with a smile.

That had been his day off. When he returned the next day he was handed the little parchment wrapped bundle.  He wondered who would be leaving him gifts, but he eventually figured it out; the bread lady.  He said it tasted good.  I asked how it compared to what he makes.  He said he does not make bread.

We chatted more about the perils of doing business in China.  He shared some wisdom from his experiences.

Wouldn't it be lovely if I could develop a line of breads that would satisfy his restaurant's needs, so that they would no longer have to obtain their breads from Shanghai.  Great publicity for my business, as well as a convenience for his family's.

Homesick

Good heavenly day, I actually had a visit with a relative!

My sister-in-law, Carol, was on a whirlwind factory tour to find suppliers for her sister's medical equipment company.

Just a week before the trip it looked like the tour might include my city.  But closer to the actual date, that got scratched.  It was all very last-minute, but finally we realized that she would spend her last day in Shanghai, and fly out the next day.

My company was not thrilled to get such late notice, only three days in advance to find a substitute teacher, but in the end they graciously allowed me the day off.

What can I say?  It was just wonderful to meet up with Carol at the Shanghai Hilton.  I took the bullet train down and back, an hour ride each way.  A short subway trip from the train station brought me to the hotel.  She was on a shopping spree with her niece, so while I waited I treated myself to a pizza and a glass of draught beer in the lobby bar/lounge.  It was wonderful!

I suggested we go for a massage down the block, which we did.  It is run by blind massage therapists.  But since Carol wanted a woman, hers was not sight impaired as far as we could tell.  Mine however, a man, was definitely blind.  They were both excellent.  Carol expected soft music.  I was glad there was no TV blaring.  It was quiet in our two-bed room, except for the chatter between the therapists.

We met Ken, the American coordinator for the trip, as he was leaving and we were returning.  We dined at the Hotel's Atrium restaurant.  Vegetarian lasagne!   I was in gustatory ecstasy; you have no idea.

And the wines!  I have developed a palate for Chinese wines, of which all the reds are Cabernet.  Out of necessity.  But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good imported wine.  Chardonnay, a Shiraz, oh my.

And most of all, talking to a dear friend.  Sharing from the heart, with someone who knows me and speaks my language.  Wow.  It doesn't get any better.

This week's bread

Peter Reinhart waxes eloquent about his pain a l'ancienne, so I decided to try it next.

It requires a cold mixing of the wheat, water and yeast, then a slow ferment.  Given the advances in chemistry and science, bakers can now deconstruct the whole process.  And so he explains that by using cold water the yeast is not awakened, but there is enzyme action going on with the starches in the flour.  After a day in the fridge, the batter is then set to room temperature to warm up for a few hours.  Slowly the yeast awakens, and starts to do its thing.  Meanwhile, new flavors have been released through the enzyme reaction.

I have the bowl sitting in the balcony, near the sun.  I am waiting for it to 'awaken'.  I fear that the yeast I used may be too old!!!  I have up til now scrupulously opened a new packet for each experiment.  Why did I not for this one?  Story of my life.

It has been warming up now for about 2 1/2 hours.  Bubbles are now forming, so the yeast is active.  It is supposed to fill the bowl when it is done.  Then I can bake it, without further kneading.  It should make long thin loaves like a baguette.

Meanwhile, I have pieces of fresh tomato slowing drying in the oven, so that I will have 'sun-dried tomatoes' to add to the next batch I do.

The end is near

I am so sad.  Sophia is insisting I give the remaining flour samples back.  She won't let me pay for them.  Like a thwarted ten year old wanting to end the game by taking his ball and going home.

I wish I could just chalk her behavior up to cultural differences, a typical Chinese misunderstanding.  But it is not that.  It is her personality.  I have been here long enough, have gotten close to enough Chinese friends to know this is not typical.

Of course, with scathing honesty I uploaded here the letter I wrote to her, which contains some harsh talk.  I wish I could be more Christian like, lie like a mat and let people use me to their own ends, and respond with a sweet smile.  My bad.  It is wrong to return hurt for hurt, I know that.

My apartment lease ends May 23.  My Web contract ends June 30.  I think it is time to pack up and head to Mexico.  What do you think?

April 23 Sharing a loaf with Chinese

I managed to produce a good quantity of bread last week, while trying two new things (a different flour, and a biga pre ferment).  What to do with it all?

The previous week, during Thursday night English corner, I presented to the large group the introduction written by Peter Reinhart in The Bread Baker's Apprentice.  The book had just arrived, and I was eager to read it, so I shared something of my excitement with them.

Peter describes reactions to bread tasting.  He explains about the five different types of taste buds spread across sections of the tongue.  He wrote the oohs, ahs, OH!s and the final WOW, as the flavors reached each section of the tongue.  I gave a dramatic reading, of course.  With a few minutes remaining in our hour, I asked the students if they had any questions or comments.

Yeah.  Where's the bread?  We want to taste it, too.

I saved one loaf of the biga batch for the following Thursday night.  As it turned out, another teacher had usurped my English corner time with a guest speaker from outside, who wanted to sell a summer English program.  So in the few minutes before the speaker entered, I cut and shared the loaf.  There were perhaps 25 adults there.  It was a sheer pleasure for me to watch them slowly chew, registering surprise and pleasure along the way, and reaching for seconds.

From the broken pullman loaf I was able to save a one-pound well-shaped loaf.  Wallace, a Canadian mulatto working here, had previously said he'd paid 20 rmb for such a loaf of bread.  I've been using imported butter in making these loaves, and its expensive.  So I wrapped a loaf for him and asked him to donate 10 rmb towards the butter.

The second, darker biga loaf I put in the freezer, as a gift to repay favors.  A few Chinese students and staff are always ready to help me when I ask.  I need to do something nice in return.

The other half of the pullman, misshapen and broken as you see it in the pic, seems to have disappeared!  I can't seem to account for it.  mmm yum

The second flour I chose was a hard spring wheat from the NE, from a big flour mill.  The taste is noticeably sour, the texture more firm.  It is the flour to use for artisan breads, whereas the other, the small grower's 'hard winter flour', seems best suited to the sandwich loaf.

Baked two batches today

Tuesday, yet another entry.

First batch: I set the bowl in the sunny balcony for the second rise, and when I retrieved it the dough was noticeably warmer. It took near

ly two hours for the second rise, as well.

When I shaped it, I failed to bring both ends to meet in the center. I folded them in, but not far enough. When I tried to get the bread out of the pan when it was done baking, it cracked into two loaves. It was in the long pullman pan.

It also stuck badly in one corner. It was a teflon pan, so I didn't grease it. I did line the bottom with paper. Next time I will grease the pans much more heavily. the next batch also stuck.

The taste was heartier and noticeably sour. This flour, a more expensive hard spring wheat, would do well in a hearty artisan bread with sun dried tomatoes and basil, or roasted onions and garlic.

the crumb on this loaf was too loose. The crust wanted to break off. I wouldn't call it dry, though. Maybe not as moist as last week's.

I started baking the loaf with the lid off, and a handful of ice cubes thrown on the bottom. Tried misting the sides, too, briefly. After ten minutes put the lid back on. Thirty minutes with it on, then I removed it again and switched off the top burner.

Second batch: This is the one with the biga. I warmed the butter up in the microwave on the lowest setting, but it melted anyway. I put together the dry ingredients--flour, salt, milk powder, yeast--and then added the butter. I mixed it in. The previous batch, where I cut the soft butter in with the wooden spooned, worked much better for even distribution. The end result of the liquid butter was tiny lumps of butter that was still there during the final

shaping.

After adding the butter, I cut or pulled the biga into about five big pieces, and added the rest of the water to the mix. It was not easy to mix it well. I finally used my hand. The batter was very wet and sticky. I kneaded it for about five minutes in the bowl, and got good results. I dumped it onto the floured board, covered it with the bowl and let it rest 20 minutes.

The weight of this one was even lighter than the previous one! 1159 gms

The rest of the risings went well. Finally, I shaped it into two loaves. I lightly greased the two pans. One was Teflon, the other was not. I covered the pans but for a crack, and let them rise in the shade in the balcony. I didn't see a significant rise, but I put them in the oven anyway after more than an hour.

They stuck to the pan as well, but as you can see they came out in good shape.

I baked them without lids and with steam for the first ten minutes, with the top burner on. Then 30 minutes with lid, then the last ten minutes without lids and with the top burner off.

I clearly remember that when I baked my loaves in Guza, with pans I brought from America, the bread pulled away from the sides and slipped easily out of the pans. These loaves are not doing that, and I don't know why.

I haven't cut into the bread made with the biga yet, and the same flour as last week's bread. Hold on, while I do that.

OK, I'm back. Wow! The crumb is excellent, firm yet light. The flavor is sweet, nutty. Nicer than the pullman loaf I baked this morning.

I'll have to give the NE hard spring wheat another try next week, with more water and better greased pans. Very different flavors. But can I bake a firm bread with it? Gotta give it another try.

The end. A difficult letter

This is the reply to Sophia, after she said she and Mike decided to pull out of the business.

If that is what you wish, fine. When I said '10%' it was to make you realize that we have not yet spoken in concrete details. It has always been 'according to the investment,' but we don't know how much money is needed!

After thinking more about it, I realized that what I hoped was that Mike, if he moved here, would have enough money to live on without needing money from the business, for a year. But if he is expecting to get income from the bakery in the first year, then yes, we have nothing to talk about. That is just not a good model to work with. Perhaps it is the Chinese way, perhaps it explains why so many businesses open and close so quickly. I have seen it so many times since 2001, businesses opening and closing in a year or less, that I can almost predict now, when I see a new business open, how long it will last.

You are still telling me that I don't know the bread market. It is not that we don't understand each other, it is that we have totally different ideas about a bakery. As I have said over and over again, there is no market out there for what I am creating. It is not surprising that you are uncomfortable with doing something different, out of the mold, out of the ordinary. I understand the Chinese culture deeply enough to find this totally predictable. If I let you two have a controlling interest in the business, I will be wasting my time. The end result will be just one more 85 degrees or Dasalea with one or two specialties. That's not what I want. Apparently, I know more than what you think I know.

It is disappointing the way you have manipulated this situation. You brought Mike in without explaining to me what you intended, then you cut him out by interpreting to him your own misunderstandings of the situation. This is all too unfortunate.

Sophia, I really didn't want to have this conversation by email, as I said in my last email. I hope you will not be upset with me. I think you are amazing, I really do. You are my friend, and I don't want this to interfere with that. Yes, I am disappointed that it might not work out, and I know you are too. But we should still have our friendship. You have great, dynamic energy that will bear great fruit one day. You are a unique person, and I appreciate that about you.

April 17 disappointing people

I've put off writing about this part. Cross-cultural communication is fraught with landmines. Sophia is not your average Chinese person, either. She is divorced, raising her teenaged son on her own. She makes her living as a middle or high school teacher (not clear which), and on the side she wheels and deals trying to act as a broker between supplier and customer. She has an eager, abrupt manner about her.

Tim thinks her English comprehension is not as good as you might think, though she seems to speak with fluency (and a difficult accent).

I answered her email. I told her I was surprised that she was asking me the same questions again, wanting me to tell her what Mike's and her roles were, and when we write the contract what portion of the business would belong to each of them. We had discussed all this together.

I repeated what I had said during our meeting, about how things were meant to progress, what unanswered questions we had which made it difficult to talk about each person's investment. I said I feared losing control of the concept, because they had told me I'd have to do it the Chinese way. I resist that. The concept is my intellectual property, therefore I should maintain a 50% control of the business.

I said I felt they were pressuring me, when I already had my hands full.

Finally I said to her, just to illustrate how she has not been forthcoming, that Mike's cut would be 10% and all rights to franchising. I added, I knew she'd probably think that was insulting. But again, I said I needed her to tell me what she and Mike thought was fair.

And what about Blake?

I also told her that we should not be negotiating these things by mail. We needed to meet face to face, and mostly I needed to talk with Mike. He and I have a lot to talk about, but it doesn't get done when Sophia is translating.

Her reply was long, and negative. She was disappointed. She called Mike and told him I only wanted to give him a 10% share, and the upshot was that they decided not to pursue the business further with me. Mike would still act as my flour supplier, however. She included his phone number.

I wrote back. I will copy that letter here, rather than trying to paraphrase it.

I wrote a letter directly to Mike. I had another friend translate it. I said I was sorry that Sophia had encouraged him to drop out of the business. I said I thought we still had a lot of talking to do. I explained, once again, my idea of how things would work. I'd train myself during the summer, then in the Fall expand the business. Depending on how things went during the summer, I would either expand the business still working out of my home, or rent a space in September. And without Blake, the coffee side would have to wait.

I explained that the business would not make profit in the first year, and that if he were interested in continuing his involvement he must understand that he would have to have his own income, apart from this business.

Now I wait to see if he will respond. I kind of hope he does, because I like him. But I don't know if he 'gets' my concept.

10:45 a.m. The first rise was done. Fingers pressed into it remained. I turned it out on the bread board, gently pressed it to degas, covered it with a towel and let it rest for five minutes. Then I flattened it further, gently, squaring it, and folded each side into the center. I put it back in the bowl. I don't yet have a thermometer, so I don't know the internal temperature. But it felt so cold to the touch, that I decided to sit it out on the balcony in the sun. I covered it with a light cloth to avoid direct rays.

what is a biga and poolish sponge?

Tuesday, my Sunday. Tomorrow, back to work at 10 a.m.

I started the sponge first. I mixed half the flour and yeast with all the water and honey. I beat it really well, to the smooth consistency of a thick pancake batter. Until now, I have then blanketed that with the remaining flour, a bit of milk powder, and the remaining yeast. I would let it ferment, as below, and then add in the oil/butter and salt when I was ready to begin the bake rising cycles.

Peter Reinhart doesn't use the blanket, so I tried it his way this time. Covered the bowl and let it ferment for four hours. It almost filled the bowl, with lots of big bubbles in it. I put it in the fridge overnight.

Around 2 p.m. Monday I mixed a biga. It was a bit of work, doing the math. Both books use different quantities. His is for a ciabatta, but I don't have a baking stone yet so I'm not doing that. RLB (The Bread Bible, Ruth Levy Beranbaum, 2003, WW Norton Publisher) just tells me the percentages. So I had to break it all down, then I used Reinhart's instructions which were more convenient to follow.

A biga is a small dough, using proper flour and water mixtures to get a dough. It has more flexibility in using it; it can be used after 12 hours or within three days. It is then cut up into big chunks and added to the rest of the bread recipe. After I mixed it I put it in a bowl and let it rise at room temperature for 4 hours. I put it in the balcony, but the cats (ChuChu, the little dickens) didn't molest it.

The reason for using either of these is to develop flavor. This is where my experiments get interesting. Which of the flour samples I'm working will yield the 'nicest' flavor. The sponge or biga is the way to draw out that flavor.

The sponge mixture has been completed and is going through its first rise. I measured out the flour, yeast, milk powder and salt and mixed it well. Then I cut the butter into the flour using a wooden spoon. Last, I poured the bubbly sponge into the bowl and started mixing. I was a bit concerned, because I held back about 20 grams on the water. The sponge mix seemed wet enough without it. Now I was worried it would be too dry.

I mixed the wet and dry mix together in the bowl with a wooden spoon, then switched to my hand in order to get the butter worked in fully. The instructions call for putting it out on the floured board to knead for five minutes, but I did it in the bowl. It was pretty sticky, but not really wet.

Since I'm using bran and germ, I was anxious not to overwork it. I had taken a one-day class in whole grains at King Arthur's Bakery in Vermont. The instructor said the key to getting a good rise out of a whole grain dough is by working it minimally. The more you work it, the more the rough bran cuts the gluten strands that are essential to height.

I waited only ten minutes. Had it been a wetter dough, I would have rested it twenty minutes before dumping the dough on the board for the first knead. I did more squeezing and patting then folding and twisting, kneading it less than five minutes. It rested while I washed out the bowl and greased it. Then, using the bench scraper to help lift it, I put the dough into the greased bowl. I flipped the dough once, covered the bowl with saran wrap, and put it in a covered storage tub (cat-proofed). It should take 1 1/2 to 2 hours to fill the bowl

Again, I felt that the volume was larger than what I remember when using the local flour.

RLB says the weight at this stage should be 1258 gms. My dough weighs 1191. I suspect the difference is in the bran and wheat germ, which is lighter than flour.

The biga is in a plastic jar with lid, in the fridge. It has expanded and fills the container now. As I have only one large glass bowl, it will wait until the other dough gets into the baking pan. Then I'll start the second loaf. Argh! and I'll have to do the math again.

April 16, breakfast

Today Mom would turn 99, had she not passed away 7 years ago. Happy birthday, Mom.

A day off! It has been a long week, for some reason. I am exhausted. I finished work at 9, bought some fruit on the way home, and got home just before ten. I tried quickly to get ready for bed, because I had planned with a friend in Italy to Skype around 10. I went online while I was still changing into my jammies, when the Skype melody chirped. Good thing it wasn't a video call!

He is thinking of coming to work in China, so he updated me on that. Not looking good.

Shortly after we hung up, Tim Skyped. He lives about 40 minutes north, here in this city. He is a talker, has been here about a month, from New York City. Another call came in about ten minutes into our conversation.

I had tried to call Deb, in Saudi Arabia, after my talk with Michael in Italy, but she wasn't on line. I left her a note on Skype. She called me back! I don't know how to do the 'call hold' thing you do on phones when another call comes in, so I just added her to my call with Tim! He got the message, and went off to do his dishes while I talked with her; he hung up.

Deb's father has cancer, is terminal, so she is spending her summer break in Texas with the folks. She needed to talk about it. But it was time for prayer in Riyadh, so the reception was bad. She said that usually happened at prayer time. Our call was dropped and reconnected a few times before we decided to just end it.

I called Tim back, and he kept me on the line for 1 1/4 hour. It was past 1 a.m. when I finally broke off the conversation.

On the one hand, I needed my sleep. On the other hand, I desperately needed to talk with other westerners.

I stayed in bed this morning until 8, though I woke at 6:30. Tired, but it's a new day. So, to treat myself, I made a special breakfast.

It may not sound special to you people with American kitchens, but I can guarantee you that the average ex pat living here would drool with longing.

I made pancakes. Big, fluffy big-holed pancakes. I used fresh unstarched runny lumpy yogurt (sweetened, since I didn't make it myself) instead of milk. I thinned it with a little milk in the end. Fresh butter, cinnamon and a grating of fresh nutmeg. They came out thick and fluffy. I drizzled a little honey on top, then spread them with fresh crushed strawberries that I bought the night before. Just-picked Changzhou strawberries.

I ground some coffee beans (not the freshest, but they had a decent taste, Blue Mountain) to wash down the pancakes.

I was thinking, maybe this could be a way to thank my Chinese helpers once I'm in business. For those who won't accept payment for their information-gathering services. Have a special breakfast gathering once in a while on Sundays, and serve them western treats like that.

OK, time to get moving. I'll experiment with a biga today. Usually I do a poolish sponge for my bread flavor. A biga sounds so much more practical, so I'll see what it's like to make one and use it. More on that, and the breakup, next time.

Bakery April 15 night, all falling apart

My business plan is falling apart. Blake is a flake. A sweet kid, a dreamer. Turns out he doesn't have any hard cash, only about as much as me. There are some ifs attached to further supplies of his cash, as with mine. IF I sell my house in Florida, I could bankroll this business by myself. IF his father sells the business office cleaning business, he'll have $30,000. IF he can broker a rice deal he'll reap $30,000 (but he hasn't put any cash into the deal, so it is suspect)

While I am busy doing research and studying up for the bread making, and also asking my adult students to help gather information necessary for my pro forma business sheet part of the Business Plan, I'm needing someone to do the same for the coffee side of it. He's not doing anything except dreaming.

Without an ex pat partner, I really don't think I can pull it off. Meanwhile, I've managed to alienate the two Chinese people who wanted to 'help' with the business. Actually, they felt more like vultures, flapping their wings around my head while I'm trying to make forward progress.

I'm exhausted, going to bed. More on the break-up tomorrow, when I'm fresh.

Bakery April 15 headache full of options

Just realize I have to date things, to help the reader find the sequence of events.

Got an email from Sophia. We met last Tuesday, and yet this email sounds like we never had that discussion! She's still asking me what I want Mike's role to be, and what I want her role to be. Quite frankly, I don't see that I need either of them just yet. I do need Mike to be my flour supplier, but in this email her remark was something like, how could you just expect him to supply you with flour, taking his profit share, after all he's done for you.

All he's done for me? So who asked him.

I want to write a professional Business Plan. I need hard data. How much does a license cost? Insurance? What kind of licenses and permits do I need? How much will rent be? How many employees will I need to pay? Will I have to register them with the government and pay payroll tax?

This is what I need Sophia and Mike's help with, but they are not offering this help. Mike is far away, in Suzhou, and Sophia works full time.

On the other hands, I talk with my students often. Most are business people of one sort or another. One lady offered to be my accountant. She and her husband own a factory. So I asked her these same questions, as above. she researched and came back with ballpark figures, which are much much lower than I had feared. She said it was not common for businesses to take out insurance!! And that payroll taxes were not a consideration. Nuff said about that.

You don't run a business in China like in the States. The comparisons give the feeling of a free-for-all environment here.

If I want to serve food, it gets complicated. But it sounds like if I don't actually COOK on premises it's easier. I'm thinking, I need to serve sandwiches so that people will have an excuse to sample the breads. But why not just cold cuts and cheeses? No cooking involved, no special 'sewage disposal' for which a permit would be needed. Of course, cold cuts are not common here.

I spoke with Angela in Tagong, whose daughter Somtso recently had a birthday which brought back memories of her home delivery in Kangding. She said she can supply me with fresh yak butter, which I have consumed lots of and attest that it will work admirably in the breads. That would save me lots of money. Otherwise I'd be using imported butter. The Chinese butter available in the supermarket is low quality, with (people say) additives.

So why not also Yak meat? Why couldn't I get choice pieces of yak and make roast beef. I'd cook it at home and bring it into the shop.

Next, if I could figure out how to smoke chicken, or maybe honey bake? That would be my second choice for cold cuts.

And then there are cheeses, and I'm sure I could concoct some yummy veggie sandwiches with sprouts and things.

Actually, there are sliced meats available at the Fresh Market. There's a vendor who sells roast duck, and chicken, and parts, and spiced meats. These are usually cold dishes, I think, that one takes home for the family table. I wonder if I could get away with serving one or two of their selections. But not at the price they charge! I'd have to figure out how to get it wholesale.

I'm feeling down in the dumps. As the Bible says, 'hope deferred makes the heart sick.' I want to jump forward in time, in the middle of my baking kitchen.

Instead, I have to be moved by May 23 to a new apartment. My work contract runs until June 30, so I have only one day a week to bake.

Meanwhile, I hear that there is a good bread shop up in Xin Bei (north Changzhou, almost an hour bus ride from here) across from Starbucks. Why didn't I hear about this sooner? Is it serious competition?

Two nights ago during my dinner break I ate at a new German restaurant that opened upstairs from my workplace. I met a short large American woman dressed in black, who introduced herself as 'Prof. Williams'. She caught my attention because what snatches of conversation I heard sounded like she knew about starting a business.

Turns out she works at one of the two-year colleges, next door to the one I worked for when I first arrived in Changzhou. Doing the same work I did, teaching conversation English. Her business card says MBA, but not PhD.

In our brief conversation she said she is exploring the possibility of opening a coffee shop! She has not been in Changzhou for long, and I think she hasn't been in China longer than that. Which gives me the edge.

All of which puts more pressure on me, to get up and running as quickly as possible and as carefully planned as possible. Thank heaven I have my Web (my employer) students to guide me through the business process. I wish Mike spoke English, because I think he could really help out a lot.

If only he would give me assurance that he is self-supporting, and would be willing to take a minority share in the profits. He has dreams of creating a franchise brand. I'd gladly give him majority ownership in that, should it come to that. But for now, I absolutely have to have creative control.

On the plus side, my bread book arrived from Amazon. The Bread Baker's Apprentice. Mastering the art of extraordinary bread, by Peter Reinhart. This will be my summer crash course in artisan bread baking.

I've been up since six. Doing the night shift today, finishing at 9. It's going to be a looong day.

Bakery April 10, the second loaf

The second loaf. Baked on Tuesday, April 10.

On Monday night I made the sponge. Instead of 341 grams of flour, I used 300 gms of flour and 47.6 grams of a mixture of fine bran and wheat germ. I reduced the water slightly, to 355 gms instead of 405. The honey I used is low-grade quality, but it's all I have right now.

The blanket was 298 gms flour and 15 gms fine bran and wheat germ (instead of 311 gms flour). I had some extra yeast, so I put in an extra 0.3 gms.

In the morning I added the 15 gms salt and 128 gms of soft unsalted butter. I mixed it with the wooden spoon for a while, then finally with my hand. I kneaded the wet sticky mess for as long as I dared, a few minutes anyway (Rose says five minutes in the bowl), then dumped it out on the dusted bread board. I covered it with the inverted bowl and let it rest for 20 minutes.

Next I kneaded it very gently for just a few minutes. I then washed out the bowl and greased it. The dough went into the bowl, which I greased with soft butter. I patted a thin layer of oil on the top, as I patted it down flat. I covered it with saran wrap and put it in a plastic storage tub, so the cats wouldn't be tempted.

Without breakfast, I grabbed my bus pass and headed out to collect my ebike. I had brought it to the shop where I'd bought it, to get the headlamp working. He had sold it to me too quickly, hadn't quite finished all the repairs to it.

Yesterday, on the way to delivering the bike, I stopped at the restaurant equipment store behind the honeycomb swimming pool building, for another bread pan. I wound up buying a long loaf pan, and another 500 gm pan slightly shorter and longer. Both are Teflon. I was spooked by my recent experience of a stuck loaf. I looked for muffin pans, but they had only very shallow ones. I saw cute little tiny loaf pans, I thought I could use them for muffins. I bought 4 of them and one six-cup muffin tin. Spent 148 rmb altogether.

Did I mention the blender? I've been salivating for a blender. With that I could pick up odd grains at the supermarket and grind them, and add them to doughs. I also wanted to start experimenting with frozen yogurt smoothies, of which Blake has been raving. The cheapest ones I'd seen at the local appliance stores was just under 300 rmb, and seemed plasticky and cheaply done, though they had a lot of attachments. I went online to Taobao and found one for 128 rmb. It arrived. It has a large thick glass pitcher, the motor casing looks like it holds a powerful engine, and it also has the smaller cup and blade for grinding beans.

This time the first rise was almost a full two hours before the finger-press test was successful. I took it from the bowl and held it in the air. I let it ooze down, stretch itself out. I ever so gently pushed it to a square on the board. The texture was rough with all the bran; lovely. I was careful not to damage the air pockets. I folded each side in towards the center, then returned it to the bowl. The next rise took about 1 1/2 hours. I shaped it into a long loaf, and put it in the one long pan. It seemed to come up the side just about 1/4 of the way. I let it rise with the cover 3/4 closed, on the sunny ledge of the balcony. After an hour it had doubled. It looked ready, though I thought it looked small. I closed the lid and put it in the preheated oven at 190 degrees C. I forgot the ice cubes, at first; added them later. I had the solid pan set in the lowest slots, less than an inch from the bottom heating rods.

After 40 minutes of baking I removed the lid, turned off the top burner, and reduced the heat to 180 C. (the recommended baking temperature). Ten minutes later I removed it from the oven. It slipped out of the pan easily. I used the oven rack to cool it, as I haven't yet found cooling racks.

The bottom of brown, one little spot was dark brown but not quite burnt. The top looked quite lovely toast brown.

I had invited Lori over to celebrate the new loaf. The loaf had cooled over an hour, so I sliced up the whole loaf and divided into about six slices each group. Maybe two dozen slices altogether, maybe more. I set the end crust and few slices on a plate for when Lori arrived.

She called to say she was on the bus just then. I still had one more task to complete before my 'weekend' break was over. So I quickly shampooed my hair and set to with scissors, to trim off an inch on the top and sides.

By the time she arrived I had moussed and blown it dry.

Ah, the loaf. You want to know how it turned out. Lori brought a bottle of Cava pink bubbly. She said she felt like new beginnings were in the air and were to be celebrated.

We dove into the bread, slavering it with soft unsalted butter. The smell was fragrant with aromatics of almond and sweet healthy smells. The crumb was excellent. It was firm, yet airy. It was an explosion of tastes on the tongue. Realizing that we were eating bread and drinking wine on empty stomachs, I pulled out some cheese and olives. But by then our bread allotment was done! I still had some of Sundays bread, so I sliced and toasted the last of that. Yes, it was good, but it couldn't hold a candle to this lighter-than-air heavy whole grain bread.

My only regret is that I have to wait a whole week to do it again.

I sent Lori home with a packet of slices, to share with her colleagues, advertising this new product. I will bring a few slices to work today. I hope to get a packet to Oliver and Blake down at the CZU. The last packet I hope to send to my new Australian friend, Vicki, who lives a block away. Slowly building the business, one loaf at a time.

Bakery setting things straight with Sophia

Same day, an hour later. Wednesday:

Monday and Tuesday are my days off. This is the logical time to do some serious bread experiments. But Monday got eaten up by other errands. Sadly, life must go on with all her mundane chores.

In the afternoon Sophia came over, and we had a serious talk. I explained to her that from our previous meeting with Mike and Blake I was getting an image of what the wanted, and that it amounted to just riding the wave of the current trend and expecting to make a big splash by adding a small twist.

What I had in mind was something new, a whole new concept. Maybe it would start a new trend, maybe it wouldn't.

She told me Mike was eager to sell his home in Suzhou and his current business, and move to Changzhou to take over the 'bakery'.

I said that was entirely too much pressure. If he did that, he would soon be forcing us to conform to the existing successful model in order to earn him some money.

Our model needed time, at least a year, before we could expect to see any kind of growth and profit.

In China, people open up new shops without market research, following a trend, and quickly the business folds. If the person has a large circle of friends and family, the business has a slightly better chance of succeeding. At the shopping center area where I work, there are five shops in a row offering coffee in one version or another. All are espresso based, and the customers probably seldom actually order coffee. That's another story.

Sophia said Mike wanted to know what I expected his role to be. Sophia also asked the same question about herself. Mike's message to me was: will he be the manager of the shop, or do I simply want him to be my supplier of bread flour, in which case of course he'd take his profit.

I said, for the moment, the latter.

After she left I made supper. I was very tired, but I forced myself to put together a sponge for tomorrow. I put it in the cat-proof microwave, and crawl between the sheets. I hoped I'd read for an hour and then transfer the sponge to the fridge. But I fell asleep after a few pages.

The phone on my nightstand gave a chirp. A text message arrived. It woke me; it was from Tim, "I'm still up, you wanna Skype?" It was 11:15 pm.

I didn't answer the message, but did retrieve the batter and put it in the fridge, well within the four-hour limit. Thank you, Tim.

Bakery first loaf, results

Wednesday, April 11, 7 a.m.

Sunday's dough was slapstick. On the good side, when I dumped the dough onto the board after the first rise my eyes were bulging. The dough had risen amazingly high, the holes were large, I knew this new farmer's flour would be a very acceptable choice for the business. It is the lowest cost of the samples, and very acceptable results.

But I couldn't allow it a longer rise than about 70 minutes. It sprang back when I pressed it, the finger hole filled in quickly, but I had no time to wait. I had planned to meet with Traci for an Easter morning breakfast.

I gently pushed and pulled it into a haphazard square and folded each side over. Put it back into the glass bowl, turned it over, pressed it flat, and covered it again. I left it to rise in the microwave so the cats wouldn't attack it. I jumped on the ebike and rode out to the TV tower, near my Web school. On the way I noticed that my battery was running in the red when I throttled, and only showing half power when resting.

She showed up two minutes later, and we walked to the Manabe Japanese cafe where, a friend told me, we could get a western breakfast. It was locked! The hours posted on the door said it should have opened a half hour ago, but it was locked. Is it, too, like so many other Chinese businesses, folding after less than a year in business?

I invited Traci back to my place, where I would make our breakfast. We left the bike in the Yonghui Shopping Center lot and took the 69A bus back to the Renmin Rd stop. A five minute walk and we were in the kitchen.

The dough had risen nicely. I eased it out of the glass bowl and put it back on the board. I looked at it, looked at my one bread pan, and knew I had made a two-loaf dough. I hadn't thought about it; it has been too long since I've done this. Last year when I was cooking the bread as flat rolls on the stove top, as far as I can recall I didn't halve the recipe and only got a dozen rolls.

What to do? I cut the dough in half, and shaped one into a loaf. I gently made it into a rectangle, folded the long ends in, and then from the long side rolled the dough towards me. I pinched the ends and tucked them under, and put them into the pan.

This pan I bought has three raised holes on the bottom. It also has small openings in the corners, where the sheets of metal had been folded. Not like American pans, that to my recollection are all of one piece. So I cut a piece of parchment paper to fit along the bottom, and covered those three holes. I greased the whole pan with olive oil.

I pondered whether or not to experiment with putting the remaining batter in the fridge, baking it another time. I've never done that, read it could be done, but am leery of what it would do to the rise.

I looked at the loaf in the pan, before covering it, and it looked awfully small. I cut the remaining dough again and awkwardly blended it into the already shaped loaf. I tried to flatten the larger piece out again, flatten the new piece, and roll them together.

I covered the pan with its lid, to keep the cats away from it, and put it on the sunny ledge of my balcony. Now, what to do with the remaining quarter of the batter?

No worries mate! I resorted to last year's technique of cooking the bread as rolls on the stove top in the wok. They would be our breakfast rolls. I shaped them into three hearty rolls while Traci and I chatted away. She is such lively company!

I made us a simple omelet with some frozen sliced onions, eggs, a dash of milk, and a covering of Irish Kerrygold Dubliner, which is close to a very mild cheddar.

She was very gracious, complimenting the simple repast as a treat.

I put the loaf pan into the heated oven at 11:45, along with some ice cubes tossed onto the bottom of the oven. I normally walk out the door at 12:30 to catch the bus for my one o'clock shift. The bread needed 50 minutes in the oven!

As Traci and I chatted away at the table inches from the little oven, we watched the bread dough oozing out of the corners of the lid, dropping like pale worms onto the pan below.

Traci left at about 12:15, and I started getting cleaned up for work.

I decided that on this day I would have to be late for work. After all, I knew my first class wasn't until 2:00.

I took the lid off the pan about ten minutes before it was due to be done. I was so rushed I never thought to turn off the top burner. Luckily, the finished loaf was not too dark.

At 12:35 I took the pan out of the oven. What a mess! I had little time to let it cool. As soon as I could touch it, I started chipping away at the encrusted pan, trying to free the loaf. I slammed it on the bread board to loosen it. That used to work, with my good pans years ago.

Next I took a thin knife and started slicing along all sides of the loaf. The first cut didn't do it. It took a long time to pry it loose. I dumped it on the board. One side had a paper-fine sliver the length of the bread, from two passes with the knife. The color was pale.

I bundled it up in parchment paper, along with a bread knife, and took it to work. I set it out to cool, while I prepared my classes.

As soon as I could, I went across the street to grab my bike and bring it into the office, where I hooked up the charger.

During a break between classes I sliced the loaf. I wrapped a couple of pieces and put them in the freezer, so I could later compare them with other experiments.

The crumb was way too moist, and crumbly. It was useless for sandwiches. I buttered up some slices and had the staff sample it. They gave detailed comments.

Rena: I like the feel it leaves in my mouth after I swallow it.

Of course, the excess moisture and lousy crumb were the results of a) rushing the rise, and b) patching in the third quarter of the raw dough.

My strongest criticism was the taste of the olive oil. It was much too strong! I suspect that last year I used less oil (because I misunderstood the markings on the side of the rice measuring cup), and the flavor of that oil was not as strong as this Spanish oil.

Last year I measured everything by volume, I didn't have a scale.

Conclusion: Entirely too many firsts at one time, combined with insufficient time for the whole process, yields one weird loaf of bread.

Bakery Easter Sunday, preparing the first loaf

Easter Sunday

I've been trying to find a baking stone on Taobao. So far no luck. Sophia has sent me a number of links, but haven't found it yet.

Last night about 14 ex pats gathered at a local Chinese (Cantonese style) restaurant for an Easter Eve dinner. We all went our separate ways upon leaving the restaurant. But I was still wound up, so I decided to start a sponge with my new dough.

I had forgotten that Traci and I had agreed to meet Sunday morning for breakfast. Whoops.

Using Beranbaum's The Bread Bible, and a recipe I've done a gazillion times, I chose the hard wheat from the small Hebei farmer. It's the one I'm rooting for, since it is the least expensive.

Weighing carefully on my new digital scale, I started with 341 gms of flour (I included some fine bran, maybe 1/4 cup, didn't measure), 405 gms water, 45 gms honey (not the best tasting I've had) and 2.4 gms instant yeast.

I beat that together, and it seemed quite thin. Usually I use less water, when I was using the local soft wheat flour.

I covered it with a blanket of 2.4 gms yeast, 311 gms flour (I included another 1/4 ~ 1/3 fine bran), dry milk (fat included).

I let it sit for an hour, then I refrigerated overnight. At 6 a.m. I removed it from fridge so it could warm up to room temperature. At 7, I add the oil and salt ( 40 gms, olive oil 128 gms, 15 gms salt), and another 1/4 cup flour. I was afraid it would be too moist.

Mixed it as best I could with a wooden spoon. It always has streaks of oil in it after mixing that way, which bothers me, but through the different rises it all seems to get incorporated. I worked it as long as I had energy, a few minutes once it was coagulated, and then dumped it on the floured bread board. I covered it with the mixing bowl, while I checked the instructions again. It has been a while since I made an actual loaf. More recently, without an oven, I've been limited to making rolls like English Muffins on the stove top.

Following directions I gently kneaded it a few minutes more (not the full 5 called for, since I've got rough bran in it), then let it sit 20 minutes again under the inverted bowl.

Washed out the bowl, coated it with oil, put the dough in it. Flattened it out and turned it over. It seemed huge! I had read that fresh dough rises better, and this certainly seems to be what I am observing.

Because I'm meeting Traci for breakfast, and also because I have to be to work sooner than all the rises and baking calls for, I'll just let it rise for a little over an hour. Before going to breakfast I'll flatten it, fold the four sides in "like an envelope", and put it back in the bowl. After breakfast I'll shape it for the loaf, and hope it rises enough to bake before I leave for work.

Bakery April 6, a talk with Blake

Friday, April 6

Blake came in early for his evening shift, so we had a chance to talk. He'll spend the summer in the States, plus a trip to Guatemala to take care of personal family business. He'll set up contacts through his parents to meet with 'coffee people' in Costa Rica. 'Everyone drinks coffee in Costa Rica, they all know about coffee.' He thought he'd try to get three roasts; regular, french and espresso or dark. I introduced the idea that within coffee bean culture there are a lot of different varieties of beans. 'Oh.'

He talked more about the pastries and funnel cakes and muffins. I asked if he planned to take a pastry course while he was there during the summer. 'Sure.'

Finally, after 20 minutes, he asked, 'What do you think?'

I said I had something much simpler in mind. That for years I have wanted to teach the Chinese how to enjoy simple coffee with all its subtle flavors. That I was tired of Chinese saying coffee was bitter, when all they'd tasted was low-quality espresso.

Hence what we should be looking at are comparisons in cost and feasibility between importing and then roasting our own green beans, or importing already-roasted beans. Since I was doing all the research and incurring expenses for the bread-making end of it, and since he has said all along that he could access Costa Rican coffee easily, I was leaving the coffee research up to him.

I pointed out that if we had a small cafe, five or seven tables, offering different brewed coffee flavors with or without milk and sugar, offering only cookies and muffins to go with the coffee, and sold a limited number of whole-grain breads to go, our overhead would be much lower. If we failed, we'd lose less.

My unexpressed thoughts were that if we have the Chinese Mike and Sophia investing in us for a big spread, they would then exert pressure on us to conform to the Chinese taste. While that made good business sense to them, I believe that if we offered something truly unique it had a greater chance of creating a new trend, which is after all what $Mike$ was after.

We'll see whose opinions prevail.

Bakery April 5, partnership questions

Thursday, April 5

None related, went to see the traditional doctor today, to find out how to keep my blood pressure from hovering around the 150/100 line. I already changed diet and exercise towards that end, but had a spike of 200/?? that scared the daylights out of me. He said, simply, 'sleep'. I needed to take care to get adequate sleep, and I will be able to maintain a 130/95. I'm jake with that!

Emailed Sophia and asked her to meet with me Monday, to have a sit-down. So, Monday afternoon I will try to make her see that Blake and I don't want what she and Mike want. If we followed their lead, we would be opening just another bakery/coffee shop like so many others already in town, trying to compete by adding a few extras, like whole grain bread and real coffee. I don't think that will fly, and it is far too big a venture than I am capable of handling.

We'll see how she reacts.