Taking a short break from hacking a software project, I've managed to produce two new articles for the Farm Website:
How to get Self-Sufficient in Bread. Not "How to Bake Bread", but an attempt to tackle all the steps necessary to become truly self-sufficient in providing your own bread - that staple pillar of our diet. Really, without self-sufficiency in bread, one cannot be much self-sufficient at all.
Care and Feeding a Sourdough Starter. How to get started developing your own sourdough starter, and how to keep it.
In truth the latter article is a light edit of a blog-post from October 2006. But having it on the wiki will make it much more searchable and accessible. Sadly this blog software and its crappy templates make it difficult verging on impossible for y'all to retrieve earlier articles; one of the prime reasons for wanting to move onto a better blogging platform. Right now I just don't have enough hours in the day. (In a good way!)
The Bread Self Sufficiency article is a bit ironic, since I'm currently on a weight-loss diet that means I've been eating no bread for the past month...
And here I was planning to focus more on the "Why To..." of self-sufficiency, and ended-up writing a couple of "How To"s... Oh well, more will come in time.
If there's anything in particular that you'd like me to write about, please drop me a line. (Contact details on the farm site.)
Showing posts with label bread. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bread. Show all posts
11 February 2007
Breadmaking Day
It occurs to me that I started a "Sourdough Breadmaking" thread, but have utterly failed to follow through. When I wrote about "Making Your Own Sourdough Starter," I also neglected to describe the actual recipe and process for making the bread from which your starter evolves. Now I get to fix all that...
Time for a bread-baking day, today, and, approaching the end of a delicious, dense, dark rye loaf, decided it's time for an ordinary, no-frills, wholewheat loaf.
Gotta Make'a Dough
This is surely the simplest of breads. If you don't have sourdough starter, this is a good bread to use to get one going. Just use a sachet of instant yeast where I have used sourdough yeast, and add quite a bit more water.
Yesterday, quite late in the day, I took the sourdough starter out of the refrigerator, and, after giving it a half-hour or so to warm up to room temperature (not strictly necessary, but I like to), added a couple of cups of (white bread) flour and a bit of blood-temperature water -- just enough to make a stiff batter. Leave the mix in a covered bowl overnight to grow. I prefer to use white-bread flour for this step simply so that the starter doesn't accumulate too many bits of bran and junk. On the other hand we're not fanatic about it, and have used brown and whole flour in the past when we've been out of white-bread flour.
This morning, removed a couple of cups of sourdough yeast to put back into the refrigerator for next time, thus keeping the sourdough going. Our starter by now has quite a different nature to how it started out; it seems much calmer and steadier, stronger though slower, smoother and more mature.
Into the remainder of the sourdough yeastie, add 450g of whole-wheat flour, a couple of tablespoons of oil, a generous teaspoon of salt, and a handful-and-a-bit of brown sugar. Any kind of oil will do -- I used sunflower oil today, but grapeseed oil, olive oil, peanut oil (if you can afford that) are all fine. I am working on getting some sort of flour mill organised so that we can buy grains in bulk (as a prelude to growing our own) and mill our own flour. Whole-milled flour is just so much better tasting than anything you can buy, but does need a bit more work to knead.
You might notice that my measurements are *cough* very precise. It is important that you use exactly a handful-and-a-bit of sugar, for instance. Self-sufficiency demands that you develop your own judgement, trust to your own senses, especially your "common" sense, and your sense of what's going to work. Mistakes are good! How else do we learn?
The Art, Science and History of Kneading
Added a bit of lukewarm water to the dough -- perhaps a half-cup -- as it was a bit dry. Then knead. As a wee lad I was taught to knead bread by Nanna, my late grandmother. She had a wonderful, wide enamelled bowl that she used for breadmaking. I would love to find a similar bowl, but all I can find is plastic rubbish, so I knead on the kitchen counter. Nanna was fanatic about cleanliness for breadmaking; lessons that have stayed with me to this day. Before getting my hands into the dough, I scrub-up, doctor-style, using a nail-brush and not just for the fingernails, using antiseptic soap, then make very sure I rinse the soap off very thoroughly.
Initially the dough is very poorly mixed. Mush, mush, mush with the fingers until it's all gluing together, then tip out of the bowl onto the (clean!) counter-top dusted with a bit of flour.
Push the dough around with the heal of your hand until it forms a coherent ball; add a bit of flour if it seems too wet. You're aiming for a slightly-sticky-but-not-sticking-to-hands-or-counter consistency. Today's bread is going into a baking-tin for the baking, so can afford to be quite soft, as it doesn't need to hold its own shape. Initially, as you work the dough, the flour absorbs moisture, and the mixture becomes stickier as you work it. Chuck a bit more flour onto the counter if the dough starts sticking too badly. On the other hand, if the dough seems too stiff and dry, poke some holes into it, throw a little water into the holes, and work the water into the dough.
Then knead: push your knuckles into the dough, using a twisting motion, folding the dough back on itself now and then. Beat it up. This is a quite vigorous style of kneading. Kneading releases the gluten in the flour, which holds the bread together around the holes of gas that the yeast makes. After about 12 minutes the dough will start fighting back. Keep kneading! Knuckle kneading becomes more difficult, and you likely want to switch to using the heals of your hands to push the dough about as it becomes spongey and springy. You're done after 15 minutes. As you gain experience with bread you can dispense with the clock-watching and just go by feel. Actual times vary depending on the condition of the flour, humidity of the weather, and myriad other factors. But when you're just starting out, do it by the clock!
If you're wanting to make a sourdough starter, now is the time to break off a knob of the dough to use for that purpose as described here.
Rising Up
I moulded the dough into a sausage shape, then rolled the sausage through a scant-handful of sunflower seeds, just for a bit of entertainment. Plunk the dough in a greased loaf-tin. Cover with a cloth, and place in a warm spot -- but not too hot, or you'll kill the yeasties. It will take most of the day for the bread to rise -- much longer than when you use bought yeast, but the bread has a much stronger, more elastic consistency for it, not to mention the sourdough taste.
Around 4:30 or 5 this afternoon we'll get around to...
Baking
Pre-heat the oven to 180°C, then gently -- you don't want to knock the bread about, now that it's so beautifully risen -- place the loaf in the middle of the oven as quickly as possible. You want to disturb the temperature of the oven as little as possible -- avoid having oven elements switch on if you can.
Bake for 40 to 45 minutes. When its ready, the loaf will make a hollow sound when you tap the underside of the baking-pan.
Tip the loaf out of the tin as soon as it comes out of the oven. This allows excess moisture to escape, giving you a nice crispy crust. Let the loaf cool for 10 or 15 minutes before you cut it. In the early days of our breadmaking we never could wait that long, it smells so mouthwatering! But the bread really is better for being allowed to rest a little when it comes out of the oven.
Wow That's A Lot Of Work
Not! Let's do an accounting:
Time for a bread-baking day, today, and, approaching the end of a delicious, dense, dark rye loaf, decided it's time for an ordinary, no-frills, wholewheat loaf.
Gotta Make'a Dough
This is surely the simplest of breads. If you don't have sourdough starter, this is a good bread to use to get one going. Just use a sachet of instant yeast where I have used sourdough yeast, and add quite a bit more water.
Yesterday, quite late in the day, I took the sourdough starter out of the refrigerator, and, after giving it a half-hour or so to warm up to room temperature (not strictly necessary, but I like to), added a couple of cups of (white bread) flour and a bit of blood-temperature water -- just enough to make a stiff batter. Leave the mix in a covered bowl overnight to grow. I prefer to use white-bread flour for this step simply so that the starter doesn't accumulate too many bits of bran and junk. On the other hand we're not fanatic about it, and have used brown and whole flour in the past when we've been out of white-bread flour.
This morning, removed a couple of cups of sourdough yeast to put back into the refrigerator for next time, thus keeping the sourdough going. Our starter by now has quite a different nature to how it started out; it seems much calmer and steadier, stronger though slower, smoother and more mature.
Into the remainder of the sourdough yeastie, add 450g of whole-wheat flour, a couple of tablespoons of oil, a generous teaspoon of salt, and a handful-and-a-bit of brown sugar. Any kind of oil will do -- I used sunflower oil today, but grapeseed oil, olive oil, peanut oil (if you can afford that) are all fine. I am working on getting some sort of flour mill organised so that we can buy grains in bulk (as a prelude to growing our own) and mill our own flour. Whole-milled flour is just so much better tasting than anything you can buy, but does need a bit more work to knead.
You might notice that my measurements are *cough* very precise. It is important that you use exactly a handful-and-a-bit of sugar, for instance. Self-sufficiency demands that you develop your own judgement, trust to your own senses, especially your "common" sense, and your sense of what's going to work. Mistakes are good! How else do we learn?
The Art, Science and History of Kneading
Added a bit of lukewarm water to the dough -- perhaps a half-cup -- as it was a bit dry. Then knead. As a wee lad I was taught to knead bread by Nanna, my late grandmother. She had a wonderful, wide enamelled bowl that she used for breadmaking. I would love to find a similar bowl, but all I can find is plastic rubbish, so I knead on the kitchen counter. Nanna was fanatic about cleanliness for breadmaking; lessons that have stayed with me to this day. Before getting my hands into the dough, I scrub-up, doctor-style, using a nail-brush and not just for the fingernails, using antiseptic soap, then make very sure I rinse the soap off very thoroughly.
Initially the dough is very poorly mixed. Mush, mush, mush with the fingers until it's all gluing together, then tip out of the bowl onto the (clean!) counter-top dusted with a bit of flour.
Push the dough around with the heal of your hand until it forms a coherent ball; add a bit of flour if it seems too wet. You're aiming for a slightly-sticky-but-not-sticking-to-hands-or-counter consistency. Today's bread is going into a baking-tin for the baking, so can afford to be quite soft, as it doesn't need to hold its own shape. Initially, as you work the dough, the flour absorbs moisture, and the mixture becomes stickier as you work it. Chuck a bit more flour onto the counter if the dough starts sticking too badly. On the other hand, if the dough seems too stiff and dry, poke some holes into it, throw a little water into the holes, and work the water into the dough.
Then knead: push your knuckles into the dough, using a twisting motion, folding the dough back on itself now and then. Beat it up. This is a quite vigorous style of kneading. Kneading releases the gluten in the flour, which holds the bread together around the holes of gas that the yeast makes. After about 12 minutes the dough will start fighting back. Keep kneading! Knuckle kneading becomes more difficult, and you likely want to switch to using the heals of your hands to push the dough about as it becomes spongey and springy. You're done after 15 minutes. As you gain experience with bread you can dispense with the clock-watching and just go by feel. Actual times vary depending on the condition of the flour, humidity of the weather, and myriad other factors. But when you're just starting out, do it by the clock!
If you're wanting to make a sourdough starter, now is the time to break off a knob of the dough to use for that purpose as described here.
Rising Up
I moulded the dough into a sausage shape, then rolled the sausage through a scant-handful of sunflower seeds, just for a bit of entertainment. Plunk the dough in a greased loaf-tin. Cover with a cloth, and place in a warm spot -- but not too hot, or you'll kill the yeasties. It will take most of the day for the bread to rise -- much longer than when you use bought yeast, but the bread has a much stronger, more elastic consistency for it, not to mention the sourdough taste.
Around 4:30 or 5 this afternoon we'll get around to...
Baking
Pre-heat the oven to 180°C, then gently -- you don't want to knock the bread about, now that it's so beautifully risen -- place the loaf in the middle of the oven as quickly as possible. You want to disturb the temperature of the oven as little as possible -- avoid having oven elements switch on if you can.
Bake for 40 to 45 minutes. When its ready, the loaf will make a hollow sound when you tap the underside of the baking-pan.
Tip the loaf out of the tin as soon as it comes out of the oven. This allows excess moisture to escape, giving you a nice crispy crust. Let the loaf cool for 10 or 15 minutes before you cut it. In the early days of our breadmaking we never could wait that long, it smells so mouthwatering! But the bread really is better for being allowed to rest a little when it comes out of the oven.
Wow That's A Lot Of Work
Not! Let's do an accounting:
- Preparing the sourdough starter: 2 minutes
- Mixing the dough: 1 minute
- Kneading: 15 minutes (I lie; I only really kneaded for about 12 minutes, today)
- Cleaning up afterwards: 2 minutes.
23 October 2006
Loafing About
Bread-making is easy and fun. Once you get the hang of it, you'll never willingly eat store-bought bread again. We've been baking our own bread for (probably) a couple of years now, and yesterday was a crowning moment when we cut into a warm,Sourdough Rye Bread stuffed with Olives, Rosemary and Garlic. So good it needs nothing else.
About a year ago we were still using bought-in dry yeast, but the price had almost doubled in less than a year, and we still had a nagging feeling of not being as self-sufficient as we could be with the whole deal.
So we learned how to make our own yeast starter and to keep it going. As a result we nowadays eat only "sourdough" breads. A short business trip toJohannesburg last week that reminded me just how tasteless, lightweight and unsatisfying commercial breads are. After all, the goal of a commercial bakery is to sell you as much air as possible.
I figure I'll write a few articles on bread-making, but before we can get into some of the more interesting recipes, we need to get going with creating a sourdough starter.
Care And Feeding of Your Very Own Yeastie Beastie.
To make your very own Sourdough Starter, just bake a loaf of white, brown or rye bread, using whatever yeast the recipe recommends. Wholewheat will do, too, but you'll end up with a lot of chaffy bits in the starter. Note that commercially-produced wholewheat flour is but a pale and pathetic imitation of the Real Thing, having been torn apart, bleached, "fortified", purified and then put back together in some way that maximises the mill's profits.
Make a little more dough than the recipe calls for - perhaps an extra cup of flour - or just accept that your bread is going to be a little smaller than usual. When you've finished kneading the dough, break of a lump of dough the size of your fist, or a bit bigger, and place it in a bowl. Cover with a cloth, and leave this in a warm (not hot!) place for three or four days. Bake the remainder of the dough into a conventional bread.
Care And Feeding of Your Very Own Yeastie Beastie.
To make your very own Sourdough Starter, just bake a loaf of white, brown or rye bread, using whatever yeast the recipe recommends. Wholewheat will do, too, but you'll end up with a lot of chaffy bits in the starter. Note that commercially-produced wholewheat flour is but a pale and pathetic imitation of the Real Thing, having been torn apart, bleached, "fortified", purified and then put back together in some way that maximises the mill's profits.
Make a little more dough than the recipe calls for - perhaps an extra cup of flour - or just accept that your bread is going to be a little smaller than usual. When you've finished kneading the dough, break of a lump of dough the size of your fist, or a bit bigger, and place it in a bowl. Cover with a cloth, and leave this in a warm (not hot!) place for three or four days. Bake the remainder of the dough into a conventional bread.
After your lump-o-dough has sat around for some days acquiring wild yeasts from the air, add a couple of cups of white-bread flour and enough warm (body-temperature) water to make a stiff batter. This is your first starter.
You should also add a couple of tablespoons of sugar - brown sugar is better, simply because it tastes better. Or use molasses, honey or malt-extract instead of sugar. What you choose here will have an influence on the taste of your sourdough starter in the long term. Sugar or molasses is sucrose; malt extract is maltose; and honey is a complex mixture of stuff. What you use will influence which sorts of yeasties thrive in your starter, and which varieties of yeast are discriminated against. Some yeasts prefer maltose, some sucrose, and so on. Then, too, the kind of flour you use will also exert a small influence.
Bung this lot into the refrigerator until you're ready to bake your first sourdough loaf. When you do bake, scoop out a couple of cups of your starter into a bowl, add two cups of flour and enough lukewarm water to make a stiff batter again. This lot you keep for next time, and the remainder of the starter you use to make your bread.
For the first several generations your starter probably won't taste very "sour". It takes time for the starter to acquire a distinctive yeast ecosystem. It also means that every sourdough starter is absolutely unique. Nobody will be able to imitate your breads! Very, very occasionally you may get unlucky and find the starter acquiring an "off" taste. Chuck it and start again. Mostly this won't happen though, because you've started with a very strong yeastie population from the commercial yeast in your first starter, and these yeastie beasties will outcompete any of the unpleasant wild beasties that may stray into the mix.
After four or five generations of starter you should have a fine, distinctively sour starter, and you'll never need to buy yeast again.
People who are exceptionally more organised than we might like to try keeping several strains of starter - one lot fed on (say) malt and rye flour, another lot fed on honey and wheaten flour, and so on. Please let us know how it turns out.
Remember and give thanks to the little yeastie beasties who leaven our bread and beer. Without them life would be much less palatable.
You should also add a couple of tablespoons of sugar - brown sugar is better, simply because it tastes better. Or use molasses, honey or malt-extract instead of sugar. What you choose here will have an influence on the taste of your sourdough starter in the long term. Sugar or molasses is sucrose; malt extract is maltose; and honey is a complex mixture of stuff. What you use will influence which sorts of yeasties thrive in your starter, and which varieties of yeast are discriminated against. Some yeasts prefer maltose, some sucrose, and so on. Then, too, the kind of flour you use will also exert a small influence.
Bung this lot into the refrigerator until you're ready to bake your first sourdough loaf. When you do bake, scoop out a couple of cups of your starter into a bowl, add two cups of flour and enough lukewarm water to make a stiff batter again. This lot you keep for next time, and the remainder of the starter you use to make your bread.
For the first several generations your starter probably won't taste very "sour". It takes time for the starter to acquire a distinctive yeast ecosystem. It also means that every sourdough starter is absolutely unique. Nobody will be able to imitate your breads! Very, very occasionally you may get unlucky and find the starter acquiring an "off" taste. Chuck it and start again. Mostly this won't happen though, because you've started with a very strong yeastie population from the commercial yeast in your first starter, and these yeastie beasties will outcompete any of the unpleasant wild beasties that may stray into the mix.
After four or five generations of starter you should have a fine, distinctively sour starter, and you'll never need to buy yeast again.
People who are exceptionally more organised than we might like to try keeping several strains of starter - one lot fed on (say) malt and rye flour, another lot fed on honey and wheaten flour, and so on. Please let us know how it turns out.
Remember and give thanks to the little yeastie beasties who leaven our bread and beer. Without them life would be much less palatable.
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