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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment