integral to the structural stability? well, get a load of that, folks, i thought i was the one with the ego round here but apparently i've got competition. and then ed goes and mentions me daring to venture into territories sexual that nigella would cringe at? honestly speaking he has a point. if nigella is an artfully-outfitted bettie page in food/sex terms, i'm probably somewhere along the lines of a gin-sozzled lil' kim. which is appropriate, because guess whose back catalogue i listened to on my latest cooking venture?
i previously mentioned missing the kind of day-in-the-kitchen structure my life had in university, right? well, obviously, december was hectic for me, job-wise, and i think i mostly lived on fried rice, soup, and whatever they fed me at work, given my hectic schedule of being at work more than i was at home. january has significantly calmed down, although this week just got a little bit more busy what with my model employee status being heavily in demand for the current filming of our latest training dvd (currently waiting on a phonecall from them regarding what they'll make me do today, since they enjoyed working with me so much yesterday- it's a hard life being a people person who is this beautiful, it surely is). this means that other than a brief trip to wine school at the end of the month i've got the opportunity to get a routine back in the kitchen. one of the ways i've been doing this is by making bread, with my river cottage bread handbook (i have other cookbooks, honest guv, though i'm starting to question their necessity).
i recently visited portsmouth, where i studied literature at undergraduate, and caught up with an old housemate, lara. we both got exactly the same model of sewing machine for christmas, and were discussing our approaches to learning to use them. i recommended a book to her; and realized i was summing up my entire approach to learning about things as i explained why i found it so useful. i admire the way people lara learn things, a kind of gung ho 'i can do this, and the bits i can't i'll wing and worry about later', but it's completely counter to the way i learn. maybe it's a hangover from academia, and a life spent learning in the theoretical, but when it comes to something practical my learning process involves deferring heavily to someone whose authority i respect, and a repetition that suits my levels of perfectionism. needless to say, lara and i used to make an unlikely, but excellent pairing in the kitchen, even if some of the suggestions she had for recipe alterations horrified me by being so spectacularly counter to my book-learnin's.
i am going somewhere with this, honest. i've been applying this learning process to my adventures in breadmaking. i have made bread sporadically throughout my life, but it has never been something regularly incorporated into my days. now that i have decided to i have taken the 'basics' chapter of the river cottage bread book to heart, and decided that i need to repeat each recipe several times in order to practice the (twelve page long) basic techniques, before i progress to anything more advanced. other than developing a huge food-crush on daniel stevens, the book's author, this has enabled me to begin understanding process as well as product, an approach i value in all my doings. so, this is my second batch of white bread, and i managed to keep all my teeth for long enough to actually eat some of it it. here's the basic recipe from my river cottage book:
i previously mentioned missing the kind of day-in-the-kitchen structure my life had in university, right? well, obviously, december was hectic for me, job-wise, and i think i mostly lived on fried rice, soup, and whatever they fed me at work, given my hectic schedule of being at work more than i was at home. january has significantly calmed down, although this week just got a little bit more busy what with my model employee status being heavily in demand for the current filming of our latest training dvd (currently waiting on a phonecall from them regarding what they'll make me do today, since they enjoyed working with me so much yesterday- it's a hard life being a people person who is this beautiful, it surely is). this means that other than a brief trip to wine school at the end of the month i've got the opportunity to get a routine back in the kitchen. one of the ways i've been doing this is by making bread, with my river cottage bread handbook (i have other cookbooks, honest guv, though i'm starting to question their necessity).
i recently visited portsmouth, where i studied literature at undergraduate, and caught up with an old housemate, lara. we both got exactly the same model of sewing machine for christmas, and were discussing our approaches to learning to use them. i recommended a book to her; and realized i was summing up my entire approach to learning about things as i explained why i found it so useful. i admire the way people lara learn things, a kind of gung ho 'i can do this, and the bits i can't i'll wing and worry about later', but it's completely counter to the way i learn. maybe it's a hangover from academia, and a life spent learning in the theoretical, but when it comes to something practical my learning process involves deferring heavily to someone whose authority i respect, and a repetition that suits my levels of perfectionism. needless to say, lara and i used to make an unlikely, but excellent pairing in the kitchen, even if some of the suggestions she had for recipe alterations horrified me by being so spectacularly counter to my book-learnin's.
i am going somewhere with this, honest. i've been applying this learning process to my adventures in breadmaking. i have made bread sporadically throughout my life, but it has never been something regularly incorporated into my days. now that i have decided to i have taken the 'basics' chapter of the river cottage bread book to heart, and decided that i need to repeat each recipe several times in order to practice the (twelve page long) basic techniques, before i progress to anything more advanced. other than developing a huge food-crush on daniel stevens, the book's author, this has enabled me to begin understanding process as well as product, an approach i value in all my doings. so, this is my second batch of white bread, and i managed to keep all my teeth for long enough to actually eat some of it it. here's the basic recipe from my river cottage book:
basic white bread
makes 2 large or 3 small loaves, or 12 rolls.
1kg flour
10g powdered dried yeast
20g fine salt
600ml liquid (water, milk, half water half yoghurt)
1 tbsp of fat (various oils, melted butter)
first, mix the dough. this is the one stage method for doing so: combine the flour, yeast and salt in a large mixing bowl. add the liquid and with one hand, mix to a rough dough. add the fat, if you are using. adjust the consistency if you need to, with a little more flour or water, to make a soft, easily kneadable, sticky dough. turn the dough out onto a work surface and clean your hands.
knead the dough until it is as smooth and satiny as you can make it - as a rough guide this will take about 10 minutes.
shape the dough into a round once you have finished kneading. then oil or flour the surface and put the dough into the wiped out mixing bowl. put the bowl in a bin liner and leave to ferment until roughly doubled in size. this could be anywhere between 45 minutes and 1 1/2 hours, or longer still if the dough is cold.
deflate the dough by tipping it onto the work surface and pressing all over with your fingertips. then form it into a round.
now prepare for baking. switch the oven as high as it will go. put your baking stone or tray into position and remove any unwanted shelves. put an extra roasting tin in the bottom if you are using it for steam (in which case, put the kettle on).
divide the dough into as many pieces as you wish (two or three for loaves, or a dozen for rolls). leave them to rest, covered, for 10-15 minutes.
shape the loaves as you wish, and coat the outside with flour. transfer the loaves to well-floured wooden boards, linen cloths, tea towels, or proving baskets, and lay a plastic bag over the whole batch, to stop it drying out. leave to prove, checking often by giving gentle squeezes, until the loaves have almost doubled in size.
transfer the loaves for baking to the hot tray (removed from the oven), slash the stops with a serrated knife. bring the boiling kettle to the oven. put the tray in the oven, pour some boiling water into the roasting tin, and close the oven as quickly as you can.
turn the heat down after ten minutes to 200 degrees c/gas mark 6 if the crust is pale, 180 degrees c/ gas mark 4 if the crust is noticeably browning, 170 degrees c/gas mark 3 if the crust is browning quickly. bake until the loaves are well browned and crusty, and feel hollow when you tap them. in total 10-20 minutes for rolls, 30-40 minutes for small loaves, 40-50 minutes for large loaves.
leave to cool on a wire rack. bread for tearing can be served warm. bread for slicing should be cooled completely.
so again, for reference, here is a picture of my slightly imperfect specimens:
1kg flour
10g powdered dried yeast
20g fine salt
600ml liquid (water, milk, half water half yoghurt)
1 tbsp of fat (various oils, melted butter)
first, mix the dough. this is the one stage method for doing so: combine the flour, yeast and salt in a large mixing bowl. add the liquid and with one hand, mix to a rough dough. add the fat, if you are using. adjust the consistency if you need to, with a little more flour or water, to make a soft, easily kneadable, sticky dough. turn the dough out onto a work surface and clean your hands.
knead the dough until it is as smooth and satiny as you can make it - as a rough guide this will take about 10 minutes.
shape the dough into a round once you have finished kneading. then oil or flour the surface and put the dough into the wiped out mixing bowl. put the bowl in a bin liner and leave to ferment until roughly doubled in size. this could be anywhere between 45 minutes and 1 1/2 hours, or longer still if the dough is cold.
deflate the dough by tipping it onto the work surface and pressing all over with your fingertips. then form it into a round.
now prepare for baking. switch the oven as high as it will go. put your baking stone or tray into position and remove any unwanted shelves. put an extra roasting tin in the bottom if you are using it for steam (in which case, put the kettle on).
divide the dough into as many pieces as you wish (two or three for loaves, or a dozen for rolls). leave them to rest, covered, for 10-15 minutes.
shape the loaves as you wish, and coat the outside with flour. transfer the loaves to well-floured wooden boards, linen cloths, tea towels, or proving baskets, and lay a plastic bag over the whole batch, to stop it drying out. leave to prove, checking often by giving gentle squeezes, until the loaves have almost doubled in size.
transfer the loaves for baking to the hot tray (removed from the oven), slash the stops with a serrated knife. bring the boiling kettle to the oven. put the tray in the oven, pour some boiling water into the roasting tin, and close the oven as quickly as you can.
turn the heat down after ten minutes to 200 degrees c/gas mark 6 if the crust is pale, 180 degrees c/ gas mark 4 if the crust is noticeably browning, 170 degrees c/gas mark 3 if the crust is browning quickly. bake until the loaves are well browned and crusty, and feel hollow when you tap them. in total 10-20 minutes for rolls, 30-40 minutes for small loaves, 40-50 minutes for large loaves.
leave to cool on a wire rack. bread for tearing can be served warm. bread for slicing should be cooled completely.
so again, for reference, here is a picture of my slightly imperfect specimens:
i also, in this batch, baked a couple of rolls, which came out looking like i'd not bothered to shape them at all:
as you can see, they went a bit siamese in the oven. i feel about this batch of bread the way my family probably feel about me; 'hmm, not quite where i was going with this, but okay, the basics are right, i can work with this'. i initially felt like a bit of a twat giving a recipe for white bread, but halfway through giving you the basic, pared down version i realized that this approach to baking is not basic or pared down at all, even with my softly, softly approach. this is my second attempt at the recipe, and i learn more each time, honestly. my previous batch had a lacy texture to the crumb where i'd ummed and aaahed too long and let the shaped loaves overprove. this batch too, had it's foibles. i obviously did not shape the rolls tightly enough, as they went mental in the oven. also, regarding the loaves, did you notice the one on the right had a random vertical split in the end? obviously i need to rethink my slashing policy, maybe slashing more, or deeper. i also am not sure i shaped them tightly enough, honestly speaking, since the ends are so much fatter than the middles. the texture of this bread was better though, less huge holes, a lighter crust. i will be making another batch next week but i am happy with the progress i have made with this one.
also, for note, and to show i do eat real food, like a normal person, rather than just indulging in days of cooking for the sake of it; this is how i ate my bread that night:
with soup. this was something i threw together to save a sad lookin' little calabrese broccoli mum had in the fridge, loosely based on a recipe from the new covent garden soup company's book, soup for all seasons, which i have lent to robert at work, and consequently cannot quote. the recipe is basically to soften an onion and potato in butter, before adding a chopped head of broccoli and some veggie stock, boiling for twenty minutes and then blending until smooth, and stirring creme fraiche through. i didn't have creme fraiche, so i chucked a fair amount of sauvignon blanc (which i was getting drunk on at the time, oh wine i love you so) in there before the stock, then used double cream instead. i used to make this soup all the time in university, it's kicks the shit out of leek and potato on flavour, and look at the cute pistachio green it goes. aww. more than makes up for my quasimodo rolls, right? right.
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