Lazy Day Buttermilk Bread: THE THRILLING CONCLUSION!
A few days ago I did a Bake Like An Arachnid post in which I started Lazy Day Buttermilk Bread (DW post, LJ post). Then, like a true Lazy Arachnid, I forgot to post a follow up. My bad!
When last we left our story, I set the dough to rise. In the post, I said it would be, oh, about 2 or 3 hours. It ended up being around 6 hours. Hey, I called it Lazy Day bread, right? The Summanulla kitchen isn't the warmest place in the house, but a long, slow, cool rise is a great way to develop the GLUTEN GLUTEN GLUTEN which gives the bread its lovely texture. That's why, a lot of the time, I'll set up my dough to rise overnight, sometimes in the fridge, sometimes not.
-->Digression: The most difficult part of setting dough to rise in a place that's not the fridge is finding a place the cats can't get to. Cat owners the world over are nodding in empathy right now. <--
ANYWAY. It was about 2:30pm when I set the dough to rise. I checked it a few times, and it was rising a bit more slowly than I'd expected. So I just let it go for a few more hours. It was 8pm when I finally said, "eh, fukkit". I pulled it from the bowl -- do you see the icon I'm using? That's how I do it instead of "punching it down". It addition to degassing the dough, it lets me see how well the GLUTEN GLUTEN GLUTEN has developed; and lo and behold, I got a great stretch and a great windowpane with a hell of a lot less kneading in the first place.
NOTE: In part one of this saga, I got a comment saying, "I'm not an in-bowl kneader, though. Kneading is therapy; I like to really get my shoulders into it and push it around." You and me both, babe! I LOVE KNEADING. It's therapy indeed! Depending on what the bread requires, I'll go from 8 or 10 up to 20 minutes. I get my board on the table and do exactly what you do. But sometimes... eh. Lazy day bread, right? I just wasn't in the mood. So I kneaded it in the bowl for a couple of minutes and let time and patience do the rest. It's all good!
Then, I just formed it into a ball and put it out on a piece of parchment paper on top of the table (OMG BAKING PARCHMENT IS YOUR FRIEND. I don't know how I've gone this long without it. ). Covered it loosely with cling film and let it sit until doubled, more or less.
I baked it with the technique in the no-knead recipe. Put a heavy pot with a lid in the oven and crank it up to at least 450F.
NOTE: Cast iron dutch oven is best for this, but any pot that's big, heavy and lidded will do just fine. Just make sure the the handles are oven safe to high temperature. If they're not, you'll find out when the plastic starts to melt and burn. Do I know this from experience? Um....
When it's time to bake, bring the whole board over to the oven. Open the oven and take the pot out CAREFULLY. Take the lid off CAREFULLY. Then, instead of what it says in the no-knead recipe about dumping the dough in, I picked up the dough ON THE PARCHMENT and put it into the pot CAREFULLY so it's still sitting on the parchment. Plunk the lid on, CAREFULLY return to the oven, and make sure the temp is still set to 450F.
Bake covered for half an hour, take cover off and bake for at least 20 minutes, maybe up to 30. You want it golden brown and crackly on top.
You can lift it out of the pot by the parchment! And do please try to let it cool a bit before attacking it, okay? Let the inside crumb settle a bit so it doesn't get squashed by the bread knife. Also, if you're lucky, while the bread is cooling down you'll actually hear the crust quietly crackle. I love that!
There are no pix of this bread because Boy and I devoured it. It turned out with a bit closer grain than I'd hoped for, but still with nice airy holes in the inner crumb. It was also a lovely light gold color inside from the buttermilk. It also had a nice buttery flavor with just enough salt to taste. It wasn't sour at all, just a tinge of tang; that's how I wanted it because Boy doesn't like sour bread.
--> Digression: This means, to my horror, that Boy does not eat sourdough. BOY DOES NOT EAT SOURDOUGH. What have I done to deserve this punishment? <--
If you want a more sour taste, use more buttermilk in your buttermilk:water ratio. This bread also had a very crunchy crust. If you want yours softer, instead of baking at high heat, form the dough as you like (in a pan or freeform) and bake at 375F. For how long? Sing it with me, people: UNTIL IT'S DONE! *applause* (That means, you know, thunks hollowly on the bottom and measures a temp of about 200F in the center.)
The second day, this made great french toast. I prefer my french toast with a softer crust, but who cares? FRENCH TOAST!
This entry was originally posted at http://spiderine.dreamwidth.org/521632.html. There are
comments over there. I've disabled LJ's Facebook and Twitter cross-posting idiocy as much as I can, but if you're especially concerned, feel free to comment there.
When last we left our story, I set the dough to rise. In the post, I said it would be, oh, about 2 or 3 hours. It ended up being around 6 hours. Hey, I called it Lazy Day bread, right? The Summanulla kitchen isn't the warmest place in the house, but a long, slow, cool rise is a great way to develop the GLUTEN GLUTEN GLUTEN which gives the bread its lovely texture. That's why, a lot of the time, I'll set up my dough to rise overnight, sometimes in the fridge, sometimes not.
-->Digression: The most difficult part of setting dough to rise in a place that's not the fridge is finding a place the cats can't get to. Cat owners the world over are nodding in empathy right now. <--
ANYWAY. It was about 2:30pm when I set the dough to rise. I checked it a few times, and it was rising a bit more slowly than I'd expected. So I just let it go for a few more hours. It was 8pm when I finally said, "eh, fukkit". I pulled it from the bowl -- do you see the icon I'm using? That's how I do it instead of "punching it down". It addition to degassing the dough, it lets me see how well the GLUTEN GLUTEN GLUTEN has developed; and lo and behold, I got a great stretch and a great windowpane with a hell of a lot less kneading in the first place.
NOTE: In part one of this saga, I got a comment saying, "I'm not an in-bowl kneader, though. Kneading is therapy; I like to really get my shoulders into it and push it around." You and me both, babe! I LOVE KNEADING. It's therapy indeed! Depending on what the bread requires, I'll go from 8 or 10 up to 20 minutes. I get my board on the table and do exactly what you do. But sometimes... eh. Lazy day bread, right? I just wasn't in the mood. So I kneaded it in the bowl for a couple of minutes and let time and patience do the rest. It's all good!
Then, I just formed it into a ball and put it out on a piece of parchment paper on top of the table (OMG BAKING PARCHMENT IS YOUR FRIEND. I don't know how I've gone this long without it. ). Covered it loosely with cling film and let it sit until doubled, more or less.
I baked it with the technique in the no-knead recipe. Put a heavy pot with a lid in the oven and crank it up to at least 450F.
NOTE: Cast iron dutch oven is best for this, but any pot that's big, heavy and lidded will do just fine. Just make sure the the handles are oven safe to high temperature. If they're not, you'll find out when the plastic starts to melt and burn. Do I know this from experience? Um....
When it's time to bake, bring the whole board over to the oven. Open the oven and take the pot out CAREFULLY. Take the lid off CAREFULLY. Then, instead of what it says in the no-knead recipe about dumping the dough in, I picked up the dough ON THE PARCHMENT and put it into the pot CAREFULLY so it's still sitting on the parchment. Plunk the lid on, CAREFULLY return to the oven, and make sure the temp is still set to 450F.
Bake covered for half an hour, take cover off and bake for at least 20 minutes, maybe up to 30. You want it golden brown and crackly on top.
You can lift it out of the pot by the parchment! And do please try to let it cool a bit before attacking it, okay? Let the inside crumb settle a bit so it doesn't get squashed by the bread knife. Also, if you're lucky, while the bread is cooling down you'll actually hear the crust quietly crackle. I love that!
There are no pix of this bread because Boy and I devoured it. It turned out with a bit closer grain than I'd hoped for, but still with nice airy holes in the inner crumb. It was also a lovely light gold color inside from the buttermilk. It also had a nice buttery flavor with just enough salt to taste. It wasn't sour at all, just a tinge of tang; that's how I wanted it because Boy doesn't like sour bread.
--> Digression: This means, to my horror, that Boy does not eat sourdough. BOY DOES NOT EAT SOURDOUGH. What have I done to deserve this punishment? <--
If you want a more sour taste, use more buttermilk in your buttermilk:water ratio. This bread also had a very crunchy crust. If you want yours softer, instead of baking at high heat, form the dough as you like (in a pan or freeform) and bake at 375F. For how long? Sing it with me, people: UNTIL IT'S DONE! *applause* (That means, you know, thunks hollowly on the bottom and measures a temp of about 200F in the center.)
The second day, this made great french toast. I prefer my french toast with a softer crust, but who cares? FRENCH TOAST!
This entry was originally posted at http://spiderine.dreamwidth.org/521632.html. There are
comments over there. I've disabled LJ's Facebook and Twitter cross-posting idiocy as much as I can, but if you're especially concerned, feel free to comment there.