The recent news of late about that huge bakery outfit (makers of Twinkies and Rainbow Bread) going out of business put me on alert. I flashed to uh-oh, big bakery shutting its doors - bread prices are going to skyrocket, and then what? Then I remembered that there are many different brands of bread on the shelves these days. While the demise of one brand is tragic enough in its own ways, it probably will not precipitate food riots and empty store shelves. But it did remind me about baking my own bread.
My
beloved late husband has been gone over a year, now, so I know it's
been at least that long since I last made bread. I am pleased to say
that we enjoyed times where I made all our bread and we went months without purchasing commercially prepared bread in a store.
Following is a reprise of a blog entry that I posted in another blog early in 2009. Be advised, I present a chatty narrative here, but
if you can follow the narrative and the instructions, I promise you can make a
lovely loaf of home-baked bread.
A million or so years ago
when my kids were toddlers I read Let's Eat Right to Keep Fit and Let's
Have Healthy Children by Adele Davis. She had in one of those books a
recipe for whole wheat bread plus a particular technique in making it. Been a
while since I made actual whole wheat bread, but I do still use the technique I
adapted from her instruction. The great feature of this technique centers on waking up and
feeding the yeast and then developing the gluten so the bread rises nicely and
holds together well.
You
will want a timer, such as a one hour wind up kitchen timer, and while not
required, a stand mixer or electric mixer are extremely handy for this
technique. A cooling rack is helpful as well.
Ingredients:
3/4 c hot tap water
1/4 c honey or maple syrup (real Maple syrup, not a name-brand "maple flavored" syrup made with other ingredients)
1 T or 2 packets yeast
2 eggs
2 t salt
3 to 4 cups unbleached flour (I like King Arthur)
1 1/2 T cooking oil
Turn on the hot water faucet until the water is hot, but not so hot you can't
stick your hand in it. You want it to be hot enough to wake the yeast up, but
not so hot as to kill it. When the tap is hot, run your 3/4 c water as noted
above. Then set the two eggs in another container deep enough that you can
cover them with hot water. Set the eggs (in the hot water) aside to warm. We
are warming the eggs so they won't chill the yeast mixture and put it back to
sleep.
Into the 3/4 c hot water, pour 1/4 c honey or maple syrup. Being cooler than
the water, it will sink to the bottom of the water in the measuring cup, so
stir gently to combine and pour into your mixing bowl. Add the yeast to the
sweetened water mixture in the mixing bowl and stir gently to dampen. Set your
timer for ten minutes.
When the bell rings look at the yeast mixture. It should have frothed up a
little. This is good - it means your yeast has awakened, and that it likes the
honey or syrup you've fed it.
Add the salt and the now slightly warmed eggs, and two cups of the flour. With
regular mixer beaters, or the flat mixing beater if you happen to have a
Kitchen Aid stand mixer, beat the batter on a medium to low setting (number 2
on the Kitchen Aid) for ten minutes. If you don't happen to have an electric mixer of
any sort, make a note to put one on your wish list and beat by hand for ten
minutes. All this ten minutes of beating is important as it activates the
gluten. By the end of the ten minutes your batter should be starting to get
sort of a rubbery texture to it. When you pull the beaters or the spoon out of
the dough it should look rubbery-stringy, a little like the texture of Silly Putty. This is good - this is the gluten - sort of a rubbery textured protein.
At the end of the ten minutes, turn the mixer off and lift the beater(s) out of
the batter. Scrape any excess batter from the beaters back into the mixing
bowl, and the beaters can then go into the wash sink. If you have a dough hook,
put that onto the mixer. If you don't have a dough hook, look forward
to a one-armed work-out!
Having a cup or two of flour handy, start gently stirring the batter with the
dough hook or a very sturdy spoon or spatula. Gradually introduce flour into
the mixture, about a quarter cup at a time. Sprinkle in the flour and mix it
in. The mixture will get stiffer and stiffer as you go. This is where you will
really wish you had at least an electric mixer, and at best a quality stand
mixer. Remember: wish list. Keep slowly adding flour and mixing it in
until it pulls away from the sides of the mixing bowl. Keep it up, slowly
adding flour and mixing it in until the dough forms a ball.
On a flat working surface - wooden cutting board, ordinary (CLEAN!) counter top
or the like - sprinkle a little flour, and tump your dough ball out of the bowl
and onto the flour. You'll want to scrape out of the bowl any that might have
stuck to the sides, although there shouldn't be much of that if you mixed in
enough flour. Set your mixing bowl and the rest of your utensils in the washing
sink. We'll get back to them in a minute. Wash your hands with warm water and
soap, rinse thoroughly, and dry them with a towel. Remove bracelets, watches,
and any rings you don't want to get in the bread dough, or don't want to get
bread dough into, and knead your bread. I push down into the dough and away
from me with the heels of my hands, give the dough about a quarter turn, then
push with the heels of the hands, and so on. Knead until - I want to say until it
feels right, but that is a vague term if you haven't kneaded bread much before
- so knead about a dozen to twenty times.
I will pause here to say that I have heard people say, "Oh, yes, I love to
knead bread because it's such a great way to release tension, to get aggression
out."
I say, "No, no, no!" I do not release aggression into my bread, and don't you
do it either! When I knead my bread I imagine a column of bright, glittering
white light entering the top of my head, filling my being, and coming down my
arms, out my hands, and into the bread. I imagine blessing, blessing and light,
flowing into the bread as a gift to anyone who partakes. It gives me goose
bumps of ecstasy right now just to think of it. Bless your bread!
Back to making: Once you have kneaded your bread and it feels firm, uniform and
cohesive, leave it to rest while you prepare a bowl for rising. I use the bowl
I mixed it in. In that case, take a moment to wash the bowl and all the
utensils used so far. Dry the inside of the bowl with a towel. Pour the oil in
the bottom of the bowl. I specified 1 1/2 T because that is about how much it
comes out to be, but really, if you just pour about a half-dollar sized puddle
in the bottom of the rising bowl, that is fine. You can eyeball it.
So you have a clean rising bowl with a little oil in the bottom. Take your
dough ball, smooth it, dust off any loose flour it might have picked up from
the kneading board, and gently plop it, smooth side down, into the rising bowl,
and then turn it over so the smooth oily side is up.
Most recipes at this point will say "let rise in a warm place," etc.
I make a warm place for my bread to rise, and here's how: Get a large
bowl or pan, large enough to set the rising bowl into, and fill it up to about
three and a half inches deep with hot water (again, hot tap water is quite
sufficient). I don't recommend using the sink for your warm water rising
because what if someone should come by and, oh, say, wash their hands, or
whatever, and splash soapy hand-washing water into your blessing filled bread
dough? Eww! So use a big dish or some sort of pan that you can set by somewhere
not-in-the-sink to rise. Once that is all set, cover the rising bowl with what
we used to call a "tea towel," which is a kitchen towel made of a
smooth, close-weaved fabric like cotton or linen, and take care to keep the
towel out of the warming water.
Set your timer for one hour and go do whatever, keeping your ear tuned for the
timer.
When the bell rings, come look at your dough. Hopefully it has risen noticeably.
Now (Wash your hands first!) you will "punch it down." Again I say,
do this matter-of-factly and with love, without aggression: form a loose fist
and press your knuckles into the dough, pressing the air bubbles out. Press,
press, press the bubbles out - you'll hear them go "phht! phht!" -
and then pick the dough up out of the bowl, form it back into a ball like shape
with a smooth side, and set 'er back in the rising bowl. Lay the towel back
over the rising bowl, set the timer for another hour, wash the oil off your
hands, and go do whatever until the bell rings again.
This time when the bell rings, you'll want to start with getting your loaf pan
ready and turn the oven on to 350 F to preheat. If you're using a metal loaf
pan you'll want to grease all interior sides with shortening. Not oil, because the bread will stick to the pan if you use oil. If you are using a glass pan, grease it, and
you'll want to preheat the oven to 325 instead of 350. If you are so fortunate
as to have such as one of those Pampered Chef stoneware loaf pans, you may want
to give it ever so light a spritzing of non-stick spray if it's not yet
seasoned.
Once the loaf pan is ready, punch your dough down in the bowl, and then tump it
out onto the kneading board. Knead, this time with attention to popping as many
little air bubbles as you can, as well as kneading for smoothness. Knead,
press, roll, press, roll, press, roll, and so on, until you have an
approximately loaf shaped giant stubby cigar of bread dough. If it has a seam
(from pressing and rolling) set the seam side down in the loaf pan. We're going
to let her rise thirty more minutes before she goes in the oven (kitchen timer
again).
When that thirty minute timer goes off come take a look at the bread. It should
have risen noticeably . It will rise even more in the oven. Place in the oven,
making sure there is enough room for the loaf to rise without getting stuck to
the roof of your oven (Voice of Experience says, "That's a drag, getting bread stuck on the roof of your oven!"). Set the timer for thirty minutes and pay attention! When
that bell rings, come look at the bread. Should be a nice golden brown toasty
color. Carefully remove from the oven. You should be able to either turn the
pan over and tump the loaf out, or lift it out with hot pads or mitts. If it
doesn't want to let go, use a table knife or some other dull slender blade to
run around the sides of the pan. Should come right out then. Handle delicately
at this point! It's nice if you have a rack to cool it on. Let it set for at
least ten-fifteen minutes before you try to cut into it. A knife with a long,
sharp-edged blade is best for slicing; they make knives specifically for this
purpose.
Man, oh, man, I'm tellin' you, fresh home-baked bread, filled with blessings
and love, still warm from the oven, slathered with sweet cream lightly salted
dairy butter - one of the great pleasures of life!
So go bless someone and make some bread!
