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.
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.
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