Friday, October 23, 2009
Bread --also, the proof is in the .... proof
Wish you could smell this, and taste it. Nothing smells as good as fresh-baked bread. And it's so easy, really.
First, this is my basic recipe for French bread: Water, flour, yeast, salt, and a little oil and a little butter. It's also about checking your facts, or having the courage to try and possibly fail.
I wanted to check that my flour was still fresh and good, ahead of making pies and such for Thanksgiving. So my plan was, make bread. Then I reached into my fridge for the jar of freeze-dried yeast, and saw -- expiration date, 2003. Uh-oh. I'm pretty sure it worked a couple of years ago, but, uh-oh. Also, I can't believe it has been that long since I baked bread. Duh.
Now, most things, you would toss, with an expiration date like that. I would. But I know that the yeast is in hibernation, so the thing to do is proof it. I poured the yeast (normally I would use about 2T, in this case slightly more) into 2 cups of very warm water (think baby's bath, the wrist test) and threw in about a cup of flour and a teaspoon of sugar. Bubbles occurred. That meant, whoo, baby, that yeast was wakin' up. Six years past expiration date. I left it overnight. It bubbled further, and proved it was still good. It was ... ALIVE! (And, yes, I do have to go to the store to buy a new jar of yeast, but only because I used it up.)
Then I added more flour* and about a tablespoon of salt, until I had to turn it onto the counter and add even more flour* kneaded it, put it in a bowl that was lightly oiled, covered with a clean dish towel and let it rise. And it did. Twice. (That is not expired yeast.) Then rolled it into a loaf (remember your Play-Doh skills), let it rise again, then baked it. 400 degrees, about an hour, watched it, brushed it with butter at the very last minute. Broke off chunks to consume with cheese, grapes and wine.
I have all kinds of bread recipes, mostly using whole wheat and healthy stuff, but this really is my fave. Yeast, water, flour and a little salt. And a little oil, but only that teensy bit in the bowl. And butter, that teensy bit on the top at the very end.
*Footnote: I once asked my dad, who taught me how to bake bread, "How much flour do you add? " He said, "Enough." OK, really, I had put about 1 cup in with two cups of water. So I added somewhere between 3 and 5 cups more of flour. Enough. You just have to know. You add it in the bowl until it is too stiff to whisk, then turn it out on a floured board, flour your hands, and knead until it becomes, well, satiny. Once you know, you know what "enough" means.
What about the time involved? Well, most of the time is waiting. Most important about bread is waiting. You work for 5 minutes, and wait -- even overnight -- then work for maybe 10 minutes, then wait. At least an hour, maybe two or more. Oh, and then work for a minute and wait. Repeat. Now put in the oven at 400 and -- wait.
You can leave the house while waiting, except for the hour of baking. Making bread lends itself to multitasking. You do have to be there to take it out of the oven. I even saw a recipe once timed to a football game. Get the dough mixed up, watch the game. At halftime, punch it down. Etc. I'd actually rather watch dough rise, but maybe that's just me.
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About Me
- Pat
- This is me enjoying a limoncello in Rome on the last night of our trip to Italy. Funny thing is, I don't really like limoncello that much, but thought it would be great in a dessert. And wouldn't you know, The Barefoot Contessa just did a great fruit salad with limoncello. So now I can't. Oh, well.
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