The Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book Part 2

CRUMB.

Once the bread has had a chance to cool, slice it open and look at the inside, or "crumb." Use the same thin, sharp wavy-bladed knife we described above and cut with a light, long sawing motion, with very little downward pressure. It's easy to squash fresh bread, particularly if it is still warm.

Look at the pattern of air cells in the crumb. Is it even throughout the slice? Are the individual cells tiny, with an elongated shape? Is each cell wall transparent and s.h.i.+ny? If it is the crumb will be bright and light-colored, and each slice will have enough strength to be b.u.t.tered without tearing.

To a baker, "texture" is how the crumb feels when you stroke it with your finger. It should be velvety soft, and flaky as opposed to crumbly: that is, if you tear a piece of crumb away from the loaf, it should pull off as a flake rather than crumble up. A crumbly loaf can sometimes be soft and springy, like a cake, but often it is rough and dry.

You may find fine, velvety areas together with rough and dense areas in the same slice. That is a good clue that your dough was good, but needed more care during the final handling.

Well. You've had quite a day-and we hope you have a magnificent loaf, too, and a head and hands full of new sympathy for bread dough. If this is your first try at breadmaking and you've had a real success, there's no need to encourage you to keep at it; a good bread provides its own congratulations. If only we could be there to sit down with you and sample your masterpiece!

If it didn't turn out quite so well, think back on the day and see if you can pinpoint the problem areas. (The troubleshooting section may help.) The next time will will go better, and you have learned much more than you may suspect. go better, and you have learned much more than you may suspect.

A Loaf for Learning:

Questions & Answers How can I tell if the yeast is okay?

If you have bulk yeast, or packet yeast whose expiration date is at hand and you want to make sure it is alive and well before you start, stir only a few drops of honey (or a tablespoon of flour) into the water with the yeast, and let the mixture stand. In about ten or fifteen minutes it should foam up to the surface. If there is no sign of activity after about twenty minutes, put off the baking until you can get some livelier yeast.

Note that some kinds of yeast will foam up if they are alive, even if you don't add the honey or flour; others won't go to work until they have some fuel. If you are sure your yeast is all right, there is no need to wait till it foams in its dissolving cup: you can use it as soon as it is completely dissolved in the warm water.

Why dissolve the yeast separately?

Active dry yeast has endured some very fancy high-tech processing and needs a certain amount of care when you bring it out of its state of suspended animation.

For one thing, when yeast is dried, its cell walls become porous and fragile. The cells are quickly restored in warm water. If the water is too cool, though, some of the cell contents leak out, which damages both the yeast and the dough. If the water is too hot, the yeast will die.

The water used to dissolve the yeast shouldn't contain much sweetener or any salt because these can also harm the yeast. Once the dough is mixed up, the flour acts as a buffer to protect the yeast.

Why do you make such a big deal over temperature?

Like everyone else, yeast works best within a certain range of temperature, and less well in extremes of heat and cold. A warmer environment speeds up its metabolism so that it raises the dough more quickly. Speed isn't everything, though, and a more leisurely rise usually produces better bread. Your own convenience counts, too: by adjusting the dough's temperature within its "comfort range" you can have it ready for each subsequent step just when you expect and want it to be.

Do I have to add salt?

No, but it's tricky to make bread without it. If you want to try. see this page this page Salt affects the bread in more ways than taste. By strengthening the gluten, it helps the loaf rise higher; by regulating the activity of the yeast, it makes the dough more manageable and predictable. Without salt, and without special precautions, the dough may rise very fast, and then suddenly stop. Because of its weaker gluten and uncontrolled yeast, a saltless loaf will often overproof and collapse in the pan.

I am used to bread recipes that say to mix the liquids and then add flour as required to make the dough. You add liquids to the flour. What difference does it make?

Our mixing method is is different: it is designed for whole-grain flours, which vary a lot in the amount of liquid they take up. Basing the mixing on the liquids in the standard way is all right with white flour, which is always the same; with whole wheat, you can keep the balance of ingredients much more dependably if the mixing is based on the flour instead. different: it is designed for whole-grain flours, which vary a lot in the amount of liquid they take up. Basing the mixing on the liquids in the standard way is all right with white flour, which is always the same; with whole wheat, you can keep the balance of ingredients much more dependably if the mixing is based on the flour instead.

Why does whole wheat flour vary so much in how much water it takes to make the dough right?

Any flour that has been stored in a damp place absorbs moisture so that a measured amount will require less water than usual. In a very dry climate flour loses moisture to the atmosphere and requires more water to get the right consistency.

But even more influential than storage conditions are the solids in the flour, gluten most of all. Because it is very absorbent, the more gluten there is in the flour, the more water the flour takes up. The flour's starch can also be more or less absorbent, depending on how much it was damaged in the milling.

Surprisingly, whether the flour is coa.r.s.e or fine makes very little difference except that coa.r.s.e flour does take in water more slowly, so when you get partway through kneading you may find that the dough seems to be stiffer than you thought it was going to be. No problem-just work more water into the dough as you knead it, until the consistency is right.

Gluten content, starch damage, coa.r.s.eness of grind-these are variables only when you are talking about whole-grain flours. White flour mills have laboratories that test the flour for gluten content, enzyme activity, baking quality, and other variables, and they make adjustments either by blending the flour or by treating it in various ways so that it is just the same from bag to bag. Whole wheat flour that comes from the giant white-flour mills may be blended in the same way, but most whole wheat flour is made from one kind (usually one crop) of grain, ground up, period. No blending, no stabilizers, no enzymes, no conditioners. You will see over the years that your flours, like fine wines, vary with the kind of grain, the climate that summer, the storage conditions, and many other things. You will notice differences not only in the amount of water the flour will absorb and in the flour's flavor, but in other baking qualities, as well.

Why knead?

When wheat flour is made into dough and kneaded, certain proteins combine to form gluten, which provides the resilient structure that expands and holds the gas released by the yeast, giving you a high, light loaf.

When the dough is first mixed, the proteins are in big knotted clumps, a little like a tangle of new wool. Kneading breaks up the clumps and straightens out the strands, finally working the proteins into a thin, strong, resilient fabric: the gluten "sheet."

The sheet is of course not flat but three-dimensional, something like a cellulose sponge. The gluten forms the stretchy wall around the thousands of cells where the gas bubbles reside. A sponge is full of holes, but in dough, the cells are sealed by the elastic gluten sheet: the gas generated inside them cannot escape.

Besides developing the gluten, mixing and kneading incorporate air, and therefore oxygen. The tiny trapped air bubbles provide the balloons that the yeast will fill with carbon dioxide, raising the dough. Oxygen helps bond proteins into gluten, "improving" the dough-making it stiffer and stronger.

How much kneading is enough?

With experience and observation, you can learn to see and feel when a dough is stretchy and elastic, its gluten fully developed. Before that, the dough is underkneaded and will tear easily. When the dough is underkneaded, the gluten is not strong enough to keep in the gas and the bread won't rise as high as it could.

Too much much kneading makes the gluten disintegrate; the dough gets wet and sticky again and can never regain its strength. Don't worry: there's not much chance that you would overknead by hand: you'd have to knead vigorously for more than half an hour to do it, kneading makes the gluten disintegrate; the dough gets wet and sticky again and can never regain its strength. Don't worry: there's not much chance that you would overknead by hand: you'd have to knead vigorously for more than half an hour to do it, providing the dough was made with good flour. providing the dough was made with good flour. (With a food processor, though, overdeveloping the dough is a real possibility. See (With a food processor, though, overdeveloping the dough is a real possibility. See this page this page) The 300 strokes or 10 minutes we suggest will not always be just right, but it is a good guideline for one loaf and with reasonably efficient kneading should bring the dough close to perfection.

What if the dough stays a rough and sticky mess?

If you have given the dough a righteous ten minutes and it shows no sign of smoothing out and becoming stretchy, you have got some flour that is old, or just too low in gluten to make yeasted bread. Bad luck! Bad luck! Please try again when you can get better flour. Meantime, it might be helpful to refer to. Please try again when you can get better flour. Meantime, it might be helpful to refer to.

Once it's risen, why do I have to deflate the dough and let it rise again?

The dough stops rising when the yeast's metabolism slows down. Because yeast can't move around in the dough, it eventually uses up the nourishment in its immediate vicinity. Deflating the dough moves the yeast to fresh pastures, putting it in contact with a new supply of food and oxygen. And, in fact, the dough has been fermenting fermenting, and alcohol has been produced by the yeast as it grows. If the dough is not deflated so that the alcohol can evaporate, it will harm the yeast and damage the dough.

The dough changes with fermentation and it is these changes that make good bread. The yeast, for one thing, takes time to attain its maximum power. For another, only with time do dough enzymes have a chance to develop the subtle flavors we appreciate in bread. Maybe most significant, the gluten in the dough takes a while to mellow, becoming strong and elastic. When the gluten has reached its most resilient state, usually at the end of the second rise, the dough is said to be ripe. Ripe dough makes the best bread.

"Fermentation," to a baker, means all the changes that go on in the dough from the time it is mixed until it is baked.

What is ripe dough?

Bakers say dough is ripe when it is at its most elastic, and can best hold the gas that the yeast is making. If you shape your loaves when the dough is ripe, they will rise their highest, have their best possible flavor, texture, and keeping quality, too.

It is good to learn to look for the characteristic signs: all the stickiness will be gone, and the dough will feel pleasantly dry to touch. You may not even need to use dusting flour to keep it from sticking to the board when you shape the loaf. If the supple dough is torn, the gluten strands will be thin and threadlike, where at the outset they were wet and thick.

When dough is first kneaded, the gluten is strong but not resilient. After some time pa.s.ses, the dough becomes stretchy, and then elastic: ripe. Dough stays ripe for a shorter or longer period of time, depending mostly on the quality of the flour. If the period of ripeness pa.s.ses, the gluten will soften and the dough rip easily. Bakers call such dough "old"; it makes grayish bread with poor flavor.

Why be so particular about where and how I proof the bread?

Why do all that work, and then blow it with carelessness at the end? Most kinds of bread do best if the proof temperature is the same or only a little higher than the dough temperature. If cold dough is proofed very warm, the loaf will develop a coa.r.s.e, open grain on the top and sides but remain dense in the center. If very warm dough is chilled during its final rise, the crust area will be thick and tough, and there may be holes inside because the gluten ruptured.

If you overproof a loaf-and every baker does, sooner or later-don't miss the chance to look closely at what happens. The dough rises up, then stops, and the arched curve of the top begins to flatten out. When you put the bread in the oven, it doesn't rise up but stays the size it was or even settles a little, and the crust may blister. If you cut a slice, it will look open and coa.r.s.e like a honeycomb at the top, dense at the bottom.

Underproofed bread will be dense and may have holes; if it rises in the oven, it is likely to have a big split along one side.

What is oven spring?

Probably not the first time you bake, but one lovely day soon, every step of your baking will go just right: your dough will be silky smooth; each rising will get exactly the time the dough needs; shaping and proofing, letter perfect. In the oven you get your bonus, the big gold star: about ten minutes into the baking the bread rises dramatically, increasing its volume by as much as a third of the original size. That That is oven spring. If there were no such thing and you did everything right, your bread would still be great-no doubt about it-but when it happens, it is glorious. is oven spring. If there were no such thing and you did everything right, your bread would still be great-no doubt about it-but when it happens, it is glorious.

Perfect technique will make any bread spring in the oven, but if you are keen on maximizing the event, choose the highest-gluten flour, use adequate sweetener, and include at least one tablespoon b.u.t.ter or two tablespoons liquid oil per loaf.

Whole-Grain Breads

Fitting Baking into Your Life

Breadmaking is an ancient art; they say we've been at it for at least 6000 years. I really believe it is in our very bones, for it seems to be something that we somehow remember rather than have to learn. Often, the first time people try to knead bread they act as if the dough is going to bite them; they tell you they're not good at things like this, or that they're afraid they'll only waste the ingredients. Pretty soon, though, a kind of peacefulness sets in, the tension and awkwardness disappear-replaced, I think, by some mysterious harmony with centuries of kneaders working in just this way, preparing similarly this most elemental kind of nourishment.

Still, bread is much more than a groovy experience for the person making it. Breadmaking can can provide a welcome island of calm in our hectic lives, but if there is no s.p.a.ce in your schedule for that, you still need good bread. (Probably you need it even more.) We hope to persuade you that with a little skillful juggling, your bread dough-tolerant, patient stuff-will take what stolen moments you can offer it and give you splendid loaves on nearly any schedule at all. provide a welcome island of calm in our hectic lives, but if there is no s.p.a.ce in your schedule for that, you still need good bread. (Probably you need it even more.) We hope to persuade you that with a little skillful juggling, your bread dough-tolerant, patient stuff-will take what stolen moments you can offer it and give you splendid loaves on nearly any schedule at all.

Breadmaking has been so much a part of the rhythm of my own life for the last many years that it is hard to remember not not doing it; but like almost everybody, I suspect, the very idea of baking one's own bread was overwhelming and outlandish to me until one rainy day when my first loaf burst fragrant from the oven, and was sliced and eaten. I hadn't read much Tolstoy and didn't have any idea of the n.o.ble necessity of bread labor, but I did have the feeling that I was doing something dignified and real. Somehow I found time to bake again, and then another time, and before long, every week. doing it; but like almost everybody, I suspect, the very idea of baking one's own bread was overwhelming and outlandish to me until one rainy day when my first loaf burst fragrant from the oven, and was sliced and eaten. I hadn't read much Tolstoy and didn't have any idea of the n.o.ble necessity of bread labor, but I did have the feeling that I was doing something dignified and real. Somehow I found time to bake again, and then another time, and before long, every week.

It was in the sixties, in Berkeley, when my life was most hectic, that the comfort of baking meant most of all. I was working full-time in the Cal Library and going to cla.s.ses or meetings every night. The week seemed to hurtle by without a moment to slow down, and I couldn't wait wait for Sat.u.r.day and the quiet of my kitchen, and the giant mustard-colored pottery bowl. It was the still point in a whirlpool, and probably saved my life. I made enormous batches of bread, more than a dozen loaves-the apartment was tiny, but it had a big oven-and gave them to nonbaking friends, some of whom needed the nourishment. I admit that I enjoyed eating the bread myself, heavy and sweet as it was in those days, but sharing its goodness was an essential part of the satisfaction. for Sat.u.r.day and the quiet of my kitchen, and the giant mustard-colored pottery bowl. It was the still point in a whirlpool, and probably saved my life. I made enormous batches of bread, more than a dozen loaves-the apartment was tiny, but it had a big oven-and gave them to nonbaking friends, some of whom needed the nourishment. I admit that I enjoyed eating the bread myself, heavy and sweet as it was in those days, but sharing its goodness was an essential part of the satisfaction.

If you bake regularly, you will gradually work out a comfortable schedule that is all your own. Breadmaking is in this aspect personal: you learn how to give it your best attention, how to work in friendly harmony with the yeast. When you can give it scope to perform its miracle, the yeast will amaze you with its flexibility in adapting itself to your requirements.

Yeasted dough requires attention only at intervals, as every baker knows. It does most of the work itself while you tend to other things, and can fit itself into the nooks and crannies of a truly jam-packed schedule. One busy lawyer friend who manages this feat is Katie. She likes to make bread with an "overnight sponge" recipe, but she sets it up in the early morning, instead of in the evening. The kneading is done before dinner, and the bread bakes later while dishes are washed, stories told, or writs written.

John and Bethann have improvised another variation of the overnight method. They are neighbors who share baking for their two families. He mixes and kneads the dough in the evening, leaving it on his cool back porch until morning, when Bethann takes over. Their cooperative venture bags them four or six loaves per baking; he is strong enough to knead that much dough and she easily manages the rest, using their households' two ovens.

Probably among my friends, the bakers with the biggest challenges are the ones with small children about. For them, life is full of unpredictable adventures, and so the best bread recipes are those that give most leeway in timing. But it isn't only that; when you bake for school-age brownbaggers, so sensitive to critical eyes in the lunchroom, you can make life a lot easier if your good homemade bread looks looks as though it came straight off the supermarket shelf-even when it is packed with nutrition. Busy People's Bread is our nominee for best supporting loaf in cases like this. With it, you can set up your ingredients the night before and mix the sponge in a few stolen moments before breakfast. Later-even if it turns out to be several hours later-when the dust settles, you can make the dough, and count on light, nutritious bread to be out of the oven in short order, maybe even by lunchtime. as though it came straight off the supermarket shelf-even when it is packed with nutrition. Busy People's Bread is our nominee for best supporting loaf in cases like this. With it, you can set up your ingredients the night before and mix the sponge in a few stolen moments before breakfast. Later-even if it turns out to be several hours later-when the dust settles, you can make the dough, and count on light, nutritious bread to be out of the oven in short order, maybe even by lunchtime.

Melissa, a truly awesome mom and baker we know, makes bread five days a week. On four of them, she starts when she gets home from work at three-thirty, lets the dough rise during dinner, shapes the loaves and bakes them late in the evening. The day she loves is her full day at home, when she can work along with the children to prepare Flemish Desem, the bread her family likes best, and one that has the long rising periods that allow everybody to fit their other activities around it.

Whatever the undenied challenges, surely it is true that having children to bake for-and with-makes it all the more worthwhile. For one thing, you can be sure that your child's daily bread is wholesome and nutritious-not a small thing. But beyond that, the fact that you care to take the trouble to bake their bread instead of buying it is an expression of love that doesn't go unnoticed, however silent the appreciation may be.

In fact, whether or not there are children to share the fun, and even when the loaves emerge from a really ripsnorting schedule, what seems to happen to a lot of people is that over time they draw more and more satisfaction from their bread-making. As its importance in their lives increases, some competing activities can begin to seem less necessary. Slowly, priorities reorder themselves, and your determination to make your own bread even on a tight schedule becomes a steady impetus that leads naturally and mysteriously to a more home-centered and tranquil life.

A Practical Consideration For more about yeast and its ways see this page this page; for specifics about varying timings, see this page this page.

People with demanding schedules often ask us to give recipes that make bread really fast. This is not impossible, but there are other options that may be even easier, and better, too. The thing to remember is that whether you follow a recipe that takes three hours or twelve or twenty-four, the actual time you you put into it-mixing, kneading, shaping-is the same; and that is only about a half an hour (or even less if you enlist mechanical help). Most of the work is done by the yeast while you do other things, and if you make a longer-rising bread, you'll find the dough is more tolerant when your timing is a little off. put into it-mixing, kneading, shaping-is the same; and that is only about a half an hour (or even less if you enlist mechanical help). Most of the work is done by the yeast while you do other things, and if you make a longer-rising bread, you'll find the dough is more tolerant when your timing is a little off.

The majority of recipes in this book call for warm risings that get the bread into the oven in about four hours. On that schedule, half a day a week, or twice a week, provides bread conveniently for most families. Bread made this way rises high, has good flavor, and has reasonable keeping quality. But if you prefer, you can make these same breads on a more leisurely schedule, giving the dough a total of six or seven hours to rise at room temperature instead of warmer. The slower pace gives your loaves extra goodness, and gives you extra leeway.

Or if you want, you can opt to speed up the whole process so that you have your bread into the oven in less than three hours. Such loaves don't have the quality of longer-rising bread, but they taste good and rise very high.

To combine some of the benefits of both a long rise and a fast one, part of the dough can be mixed ahead of time; this is called the "sponge method"; the how-tos are given. Sponges offer a lot of flexibility because they do not require the same careful timing that normal, straight doughs do.

You can make good bread on many different schedules. The skill comes in adjusting the amount of yeast and the dough's rising temperature so that both the yeast's activity and the elasticity of the dough will reach their peak when you are ready to form the loaves. Dough in this prime condition is not a matter of chance but is at your command; bakers call it "ripe dough," and whatever timing or ingredients go into making it, the result is excellent bread.

In the pages that follow are recipes with scheduling patterns that work. If you don't find one that suits you, refer to the section beginning for an overview of many other possibilities with specific suggestions about how to make each of them work for you.

A full explanation of what ripe dough is, and what to look for at each stage along the way, is presented in A Loaf for Learning, the section that precedes this one.Another alternative for tough scheduling challenges: the electric breadmaker. Refer to Bread Machines, starting.

Rockbottom Essentials.

These few things are essential. There is much, much more about each of these ingredients elsewhere in the book and for more information, refer to the pages noted. But whatever recipe you choose in this book, please follow the simple guidelines given here.

FLOUR.

Freshness Whole wheat flour, unlike white flour, is perishable and must be fresh to make good bread. If you buy packaged flour and can't read the "pull date" on it, ask your storekeeper. Don't try to make bread with whole-grain flour that has been on the shelf for more than 2 months. If you are in doubt, taste a pinch. There should be no bitterness. When you get the flour home, refrigerate it, wrapped airtight. The day before you bake, take what you will need out to come to room temperature before you use it. Whole wheat flour, unlike white flour, is perishable and must be fresh to make good bread. If you buy packaged flour and can't read the "pull date" on it, ask your storekeeper. Don't try to make bread with whole-grain flour that has been on the shelf for more than 2 months. If you are in doubt, taste a pinch. There should be no bitterness. When you get the flour home, refrigerate it, wrapped airtight. The day before you bake, take what you will need out to come to room temperature before you use it.

Type To achieve a light loaf of yeasted bread you need flour that is high in protein. Look for "bread" flour or flour milled from To achieve a light loaf of yeasted bread you need flour that is high in protein. Look for "bread" flour or flour milled from hard red spring wheat, hard red winter wheat hard red spring wheat, hard red winter wheat, or hard white wheat. hard white wheat. Hard red spring wheat usually makes the lightest loaves. If none of these are on the bag, but there is a nutrition profile, look for a protein content of 14% or more, by weight. "All purpose" flour and pastry flour make tender quick breads, m.u.f.fins and pancakes, but they do not have enough gluten protein to make light yeasted breads. Hard red spring wheat usually makes the lightest loaves. If none of these are on the bag, but there is a nutrition profile, look for a protein content of 14% or more, by weight. "All purpose" flour and pastry flour make tender quick breads, m.u.f.fins and pancakes, but they do not have enough gluten protein to make light yeasted breads.

Grind A very fine grind will make the lightest loaves, all other factors being equal, but many people prefer coa.r.s.er stoneground flour for flavor and texture in some breads. A very fine grind will make the lightest loaves, all other factors being equal, but many people prefer coa.r.s.er stoneground flour for flavor and texture in some breads.

More about flour and milling.

YEAST.

We call for active dry yeast because it is available everywhere and is reliable. The usual amount called for is two teaspoons, which is one packet. If you prefer moist yeast, one cake is the equivalent of one packet. Moist or dry, if the yeast is not fresh-within its expiration date, and properly stored-it cannot raise your bread.

More about yeast.

OIL OR b.u.t.tER.

Make sure it is fresh: rancid fat will spoil your bread. We strongly recommend storing both oil and b.u.t.ter in the refrigerator.

More about fat in general. More about b.u.t.ter.

WATER SALT & SWEETENERS.

Any water that is good to drink-not extremely hard or soft-will do fine. Normal table salt is adequate for baking. For sweetening, we usually call for honey, but if you prefer something different there are many possibilities, and within bounds, they will all work.