BAKE LIKE AN ARACHNID: Lazy-day Buttermilk Bread part 1
I baked scones yesterday, and I was out of dry buttermilk powder so I had to use real buttermilk (OH NOES THE SUFFERING!). So today I looked in the fridge and said, "I gotta use up this buttermilk."
So I'm baking bread. What a surprise. *rolls eyes* In reality, though, what I thought to myself was "I'll throw some bread together." Then I realized, this is why I can't teach someone to bake bread unless we're standing together in the kitchen -- I haven't used a recipe since Hestia knows when.
There's a saying, "cooks are artists, bakers are scientists." But that's only really true of pastry bakers. When you bake cakes, cookies and sweets, you have to strictly measure things like baking powder and baking soda and know how they work together, and how much acid and sweetener and etc. You don't have to know how the chemistry works, but you do have to know how the chemicals work, if you know what I'm saying, and exactly how much of everything.
Bread baking is... different. I'd say bread bakers are artisans, but that word has been overused until it means nothing. So let's say bread bakers are craftspeople. Once you know the basics, the rest of it gets thrown together and worked by feel. Literally.
In other words, this is how I "threw together" the bread I'm baking today:
I started by throwing 3 cups of flour into the largest bowl in the house. From experience, that's about how much flour will make a nice big loaf of bread, or I can split it into two, or whatever the hell.
Since these days I buy 25-pound bags of flour --
--> Digression: Last week I said to Boy, "Before you knew me, did you ever think your routine grocery list would include 25-pound bags of flour?" He answered, "Before I knew you, I didn't know they existed". <--
Anyway, the bulk bags I have easy access to only come in all-purpose flour, not bread flour, so I have to add extra wheat gluten. That's right, all you celiac and gluten-free people; I AM YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE.
How much gluten? The answer is... some. Enough. Er... um... how high is the humidity level in your home? How airy do you want your bread to end up? You can add anywhere from one tablespoon, to a tablespoon per cup of flour, to even more if you want (but not too much more!). Today I tossed in two tablespoons. W'ever.
Why do you want lots of gluten in bread dough? So it comes out sproingy and airy, not like a brick. More on that later.
Then I added yeast. How much yeast? I'll tell you a secret. Those little packets they sell in the supermarket are too much yeast. Your dough will rise in an hour, but in the end you'll wonder why your bread doesn't look, feel or taste like bakery bread.
How much yeast you use depends on a lot of things, but mostly on how much time and patience you have. The more time you have to let the bread rise, the less yeast you need. If you're setting dough to rise overnight, you can use as little as a quarter teaspoon. I want my bread "sometime today," so I threw in a teaspoon. W'ever.
Oh, by the way, I use what's called "rapid rise," "instant" or "bread machine" yeast, which doesn't have to be bloomed in water in advance. You can just throw it in the flour. Get with the 21st century, people! The future is now!
Then I added salt. How much salt? Guess. If you answered "some... enough..." you're starting to get the hang of it. You must add salt. Do not think that because you're on a low sodium diet that you can bake bread without salt. On the other hand, go ahead and try. It may rise, but it'll taste like paste because, if you remember from kindergarten, you can make paste from FLOUR AND WATER. So unless you are feeling particularly nostalgic for the taste of kindergarten paste, ADD SALT. I threw in half a tablespoon. W'ever.
Flour, yeast, salt... what's left? OH YEAH WATER. As I said, I wanted to use up the buttermilk but if I used *only* buttermilk... have you tasted buttermilk? I love sour bread, but not that sour! So I decided to use half water, half buttermilk. Say it with me, kids: HOW MUCH? SOME! ENOUGH!
I filled a measuring cup with a cup of buttermilk and a cup of water mixed. I started by pouring half of that into the dry ingredients, and started mixing it with a big spoon. It was still too dry -- there was still plenty of dry flour in the bowl. That's when I put down the spoon and got in there with one hand, mixing while dribbling in the liquid with my other hand. How much liquid? That's right: ENOUGH! How do you know when it's enough? WHEN IT FEELS RIGHT.
... yeah, I know, I know. No help whatsoever. But this is why you use your hands instead of a spoon. Once again, it depends on what type of bread you want. The higher the liquid-to-flour ratio, the airier your bread will be. Most of the bread recipes you'll read want you to have a low ratio because that dough is easier for a beginning baker to work with. That will give you a heavy bread with no big airy holes inside. That's cool if you want a heavy bread, like a close grained multigrain bread, but that's not what I wanted today.
When you make dough, a lot depends on how humid it is. If it's really humid in your kitchen, you'll need to add less liquid. If it's really dry, like when the heat is on, you'll need more. So I added enough liquid to get the dough past the dry-n-floury stage, but not reach the sloppy batter-like stage. I ended up using about a cup and a half? A bit more? It was a bit wet and sticky, and a pain to knead.
OH YEAH KNEADING. First of all, if you use a great whopping big bowl (or the biggest stockpot you own), you don't have to do the "turn it out on a floured board" thing. Just knead it in the bowl, which should still have a bit of flour in the bottom.
How much kneading? UNTIL IT FEELS LIKE DOUGH. Knead it until it's sproingy. If you stick the tip of a finger in the dough, the little divot should slowly spring back.
Another secret regarding time and patience: the longer you're going to let your dough rise, the less kneading you need. (knead-need-kneed blah blah joke blah) If you're making No Knead bread you don't knead at all. Repeat: at all. It's a very very sloppy dough, a high water-to-flour ratio and a very long rise that allows the gluten to do the work on its own instead of you having to push it all into place.
YES I SAID GLUTEN. GLUTEN GLUTEN GLUTEN. GLUTEN IS MY LIFE. GET OVER IT.
But again, I don't want to wait until tomorrow for my bread, so I kneaded it until it was sproingy, but I didn't do the whole 20 minute extravaganza that lets you stretch the dough out until it's translucent. I'm not in the mood for that today. Then I formed it into a ball. Then I rubbed some olive oil on my hands, rolled the dough in the olive oil and covered the bowl and set it on the kitchen table.
Notice how little clean-up I had to do. No cleaning the flour off the board, no washing out the bowl and oiling it.
That's where I am now. How long will I let it rise? ENOUGH. How will I know when it's done? WHEN IT LOOKS DONE. That means it'll be at least doubled, possibly tripled, and likely have little bubbles on top. Maybe 3 hours? Four? W'ever. I'll let you know in part 2.
TO BE CONTINUED...
This entry was originally posted at http://spiderine.dreamwidth.org/521090.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.
So I'm baking bread. What a surprise. *rolls eyes* In reality, though, what I thought to myself was "I'll throw some bread together." Then I realized, this is why I can't teach someone to bake bread unless we're standing together in the kitchen -- I haven't used a recipe since Hestia knows when.
There's a saying, "cooks are artists, bakers are scientists." But that's only really true of pastry bakers. When you bake cakes, cookies and sweets, you have to strictly measure things like baking powder and baking soda and know how they work together, and how much acid and sweetener and etc. You don't have to know how the chemistry works, but you do have to know how the chemicals work, if you know what I'm saying, and exactly how much of everything.
Bread baking is... different. I'd say bread bakers are artisans, but that word has been overused until it means nothing. So let's say bread bakers are craftspeople. Once you know the basics, the rest of it gets thrown together and worked by feel. Literally.
In other words, this is how I "threw together" the bread I'm baking today:
I started by throwing 3 cups of flour into the largest bowl in the house. From experience, that's about how much flour will make a nice big loaf of bread, or I can split it into two, or whatever the hell.
Since these days I buy 25-pound bags of flour --
--> Digression: Last week I said to Boy, "Before you knew me, did you ever think your routine grocery list would include 25-pound bags of flour?" He answered, "Before I knew you, I didn't know they existed". <--
Anyway, the bulk bags I have easy access to only come in all-purpose flour, not bread flour, so I have to add extra wheat gluten. That's right, all you celiac and gluten-free people; I AM YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE.
How much gluten? The answer is... some. Enough. Er... um... how high is the humidity level in your home? How airy do you want your bread to end up? You can add anywhere from one tablespoon, to a tablespoon per cup of flour, to even more if you want (but not too much more!). Today I tossed in two tablespoons. W'ever.
Why do you want lots of gluten in bread dough? So it comes out sproingy and airy, not like a brick. More on that later.
Then I added yeast. How much yeast? I'll tell you a secret. Those little packets they sell in the supermarket are too much yeast. Your dough will rise in an hour, but in the end you'll wonder why your bread doesn't look, feel or taste like bakery bread.
How much yeast you use depends on a lot of things, but mostly on how much time and patience you have. The more time you have to let the bread rise, the less yeast you need. If you're setting dough to rise overnight, you can use as little as a quarter teaspoon. I want my bread "sometime today," so I threw in a teaspoon. W'ever.
Oh, by the way, I use what's called "rapid rise," "instant" or "bread machine" yeast, which doesn't have to be bloomed in water in advance. You can just throw it in the flour. Get with the 21st century, people! The future is now!
Then I added salt. How much salt? Guess. If you answered "some... enough..." you're starting to get the hang of it. You must add salt. Do not think that because you're on a low sodium diet that you can bake bread without salt. On the other hand, go ahead and try. It may rise, but it'll taste like paste because, if you remember from kindergarten, you can make paste from FLOUR AND WATER. So unless you are feeling particularly nostalgic for the taste of kindergarten paste, ADD SALT. I threw in half a tablespoon. W'ever.
Flour, yeast, salt... what's left? OH YEAH WATER. As I said, I wanted to use up the buttermilk but if I used *only* buttermilk... have you tasted buttermilk? I love sour bread, but not that sour! So I decided to use half water, half buttermilk. Say it with me, kids: HOW MUCH? SOME! ENOUGH!
I filled a measuring cup with a cup of buttermilk and a cup of water mixed. I started by pouring half of that into the dry ingredients, and started mixing it with a big spoon. It was still too dry -- there was still plenty of dry flour in the bowl. That's when I put down the spoon and got in there with one hand, mixing while dribbling in the liquid with my other hand. How much liquid? That's right: ENOUGH! How do you know when it's enough? WHEN IT FEELS RIGHT.
... yeah, I know, I know. No help whatsoever. But this is why you use your hands instead of a spoon. Once again, it depends on what type of bread you want. The higher the liquid-to-flour ratio, the airier your bread will be. Most of the bread recipes you'll read want you to have a low ratio because that dough is easier for a beginning baker to work with. That will give you a heavy bread with no big airy holes inside. That's cool if you want a heavy bread, like a close grained multigrain bread, but that's not what I wanted today.
When you make dough, a lot depends on how humid it is. If it's really humid in your kitchen, you'll need to add less liquid. If it's really dry, like when the heat is on, you'll need more. So I added enough liquid to get the dough past the dry-n-floury stage, but not reach the sloppy batter-like stage. I ended up using about a cup and a half? A bit more? It was a bit wet and sticky, and a pain to knead.
OH YEAH KNEADING. First of all, if you use a great whopping big bowl (or the biggest stockpot you own), you don't have to do the "turn it out on a floured board" thing. Just knead it in the bowl, which should still have a bit of flour in the bottom.
How much kneading? UNTIL IT FEELS LIKE DOUGH. Knead it until it's sproingy. If you stick the tip of a finger in the dough, the little divot should slowly spring back.
Another secret regarding time and patience: the longer you're going to let your dough rise, the less kneading you need. (knead-need-kneed blah blah joke blah) If you're making No Knead bread you don't knead at all. Repeat: at all. It's a very very sloppy dough, a high water-to-flour ratio and a very long rise that allows the gluten to do the work on its own instead of you having to push it all into place.
YES I SAID GLUTEN. GLUTEN GLUTEN GLUTEN. GLUTEN IS MY LIFE. GET OVER IT.
But again, I don't want to wait until tomorrow for my bread, so I kneaded it until it was sproingy, but I didn't do the whole 20 minute extravaganza that lets you stretch the dough out until it's translucent. I'm not in the mood for that today. Then I formed it into a ball. Then I rubbed some olive oil on my hands, rolled the dough in the olive oil and covered the bowl and set it on the kitchen table.
Notice how little clean-up I had to do. No cleaning the flour off the board, no washing out the bowl and oiling it.
That's where I am now. How long will I let it rise? ENOUGH. How will I know when it's done? WHEN IT LOOKS DONE. That means it'll be at least doubled, possibly tripled, and likely have little bubbles on top. Maybe 3 hours? Four? W'ever. I'll let you know in part 2.
TO BE CONTINUED...
This entry was originally posted at http://spiderine.dreamwidth.org/521090.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.