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.
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