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Made in Quebec: from wheat to bread

Fragment of a mural on the outerwall of Première Moisson
in the Mont-Royal area of Montreal
Just came back from a few days in Montreal with lots of good memories (including of a mad dash through rain-peltered streets to the sheltered terrace of a café on Place Jacques-Cartier where we sat next to a cheerful bilingual beer-guzzling street entertainer in a black kilt and dreadlocks), half-a-shelf worth of used books (as if I needed the extra weight for the flight home next week but where to get novels by Michel Tremblay or Félix Leclerc in the Pacific Northwest?) and a bagful of bread – well, just four loaves really – as well as two “chocolatines aux amandes” (almond chocolate croissants) which were to die for.

Chocolatine aux amandes
The chocolatines (which we first sampled when visiting Première Moisson Bakery at Atwater market) were so good that I knew I had to go back and buy some bread, especially because I was curious about the bakery anyway. I had first heard of it in August 2010 when I went to the Montérégie area of Quebec, west of Montreal, to meet with Robert Beauchemin, owner of La Meunerie Milanaise.
Photo © La Milanaise, used with R. Beauchemin’s permission
Beauchemin, who with his wife Lily Vallières has been producing organic cereal grain on his farm since the late 70’s, had a mill built on his property in 1982 because no mills were available to him which would stone-grind his grain and he felt stone-milling was a trade which was slowly disappearing. He was determined to reverse the trend. He soon discovered that there was much more to milling than knowing how to keep the stones sharp and that the milling process itself had a tremendous impact on the finished product. With the help and support of Agriculture Canada, he was able to hire research staff at the end of the 90’s to analyze this process. Initially scheduled to last two months, the study actually lasted two years as the team discovered more and more layers of complexity, once all of the physical characteristics of a given variety of wheat were taken into account. (For more on the history of La Milanaise, check out this page of its website).
Beauchemin also told me that La Milanaise only mills organic grain and that he had joined hands in 2007 with the owners of Première Moisson Bakery (literal translation: First Harvest) to found another mill, Les Moulins de Soulanges with the goal to develop specialty flours tailor-made to the needs of Quebec artisan bakers. These flours wouldn’t be organic but they would be made without any chemical additions or manipulations.
He recounted how, as late as in 1999, La Milanaise was still buying 85% of its wheat from the Canadian West as it was widely believed that no quality wheat could be grown in Quebec. A variety of wheat was considered good for baking purposes when its flour readily absorbed water and produced a bread with hardly any crust and a finely honey-combed crumb, in other words the perfect sandwich bread. The wide plains of Western Canada produced 100% spring wheat which yielded the ideal flour for such bread.
But towards the end of the 90’s, the move towards artisanal bread was starting to take hold in Quebec. Scores of bakers were arriving from France and having a excruciatingly hard time producing French breads with the strong flours (14% protein) which were the only ones then available to them. A demand thus emerged for a type of wheat that was of no interest to the Western farmers. Time had come to revisit the principles of wheat production in Quebec. Beauchemin who is a mechanical engineer and holds a Master’s Degree in mathematics, was convinced that science was the answer: the influence of genetics and climate needed to be thoroughly analyzed and tested. With strong government support, he hired two full-time agronomists whose job it was (and still is) to establish a concordance between what could be observed at the mill and at the bakery and what was going on in the fields.
Thanks to these efforts and others and to forward-looking government subventions, Quebec is now producing more and more winter wheat whose aromas are much more complex than those of spring wheat: “After a few years of researches, we have now identified certain varieties of wheat grown in Québec that have interesting potential for speciality flours and bakery. Moreover, we observed that some characteristics of wheat grown in Québec make them even more interesting than other varieties grown in the Canadian West.” (quotation from La Milanaise website)
Les Moulins de Soulanges is currently working with six to eight varieties of wheat, some selected for their strength, some for the flexibility they bring to the dough and others for the characteristics of the bread they yield – color, aroma, crust texture (a full-time baker is also on staff). All the flours it produces result from a blend of grains in varying proportions according to the desired results. All agricultural machinery used by the farmers who work with Les Moulins is equipped with a chip that constantly analyzes data during sowing, hoeing, fertilizing and harvesting. That chip makes it possibly to determine the quality of the protein in each part of each field so that overfertilizing is never an issue. Every element is measured and controlled at every stage. The origin of each grain delivery can be pinpointed not only to the individual farm but almost to the individual furrow. Blends are made on the basis of the percentage of gluten (which is not necessarily the same as the percentage of protein) and the aptitude of the flour to produce the desired dough characteristics.
What’s more, by managing changes in wheat characteristics, it is now possible to develop a wide range of aromas from floral to coffee. The baker can choose the ones that will become his or signature once he/she applies to the flour his or her knowledge of the fermentation process by varying acidity and temperatures levels. He/she can pick different blends for different breads. I don’t know about you but I find the concept of picking aromas à la carte totally mind-blowing. Like a dream come true…
Quebec doesn’t yet produce enough organic wheat to satisfy demand. But with the support of the Canadian government, it has implemented a successful sustainable agriculture program which makes it possible for a big artisan bakery such as Première Moisson to use exclusively wheat grown in Quebec without the use of pesticides.
A rustic setting for Les Moulins
Knowing all this and having the good fortune of spending three days in Montreal earlier this week, I was curious to see Première Moisson. A family store, it was founded in 1992 and now has multiple locations in the Montreal and Quebec City areas. I only saw three of them, the above-mentioned bakery at Atwater market, the one at the Jean-Talon Market and the one in the Mont-Royal area of Montreal (where I photographed the mural). But in all of them the displayed motto was the same: “L’art du vrai !”, translated by Première Moisson as “Truly authentic!”
First off, the wheat-colored stores are bright, airy and spacious. Then there is bread (or pictures of bread) literally everywhere (I am only focusing on bread but the bakery offers much more including various pastries and a “charcuterie” section supervised by an artisan master charcutier from France who uses meat from animals raised in Quebec under a “clean label”). The pictures I took in the store are not very good. But they’ll give you an idea of the atmosphere of the place and the kind of bread to be found there.

The breads we took home were actually quite tasty, except for the olive sourdough loaf which was rather bland, way blander as a matter of fact than an olive bread has the right to be in spite of the description in the in-store brochure which promised: “for a fleeting moment, you’ll be transported to the Italian countryside!”. The olives had no flavor and I couldn’t taste the olive oil. Oh, well! Maybe it was a bad day for olives. The crumb was beautiful though… The organic sprouted grains and the sourdough walnut were both very good.
Olive Sourdough
Organic Sprouted Grains
Walnut Sourdough

But the raisin, honey and hazelnut sourdough was spectacular, with perfectly roasted hazelnuts and a complex honey flavor.

Première Moisson’s raisin, honey & hazelnut sourdough bread

So will I go back to try and sample some more next time we go to Montreal? Sure. There is a lot more to explore at the bakery and I am looking forward to new discoveries. But then I may also want to talk to Josée Fiset who founded Première Moisson with her mother and her two brothers close to 20 years ago. She came out in 2006 with a book, Bread, which I couldn’t resist buying to learn more about the bakery’s bread philosophy (well, I actually bought the French version, Pain, but the contents are probably identical). In any case as I was reading through the introduction, I was shocked to discover that Fiset believed (and had confirmed by a baker colleague in France) that the possibility of making good artisan bread at home was an utopia as could only be made at home breads which required no steam, no levain and no kneading skills!
I personally know several professional bakers who would firmly disagree with her, including Anis Bouabsa who was recognized as Meilleur Ouvrier de France (Best Artisan Baker in France) in 2004 and whose baguette won the label of best baguette in Paris in 2008. Anis actually told me when I saw him at Europain in 2008 that he was very impressed by the work of home bakers and he certainly wasn’t above passionately discussing levain techniques with me. I can only think that Fiset is too busy running the bakery to keep up with the serious home baker movement. Hopefully the few links I am planning to send her will help convince her that things have changed!

Sourdough Corn and Spelt Rolls

I love corn and I love spelt and thanks to my wonderful island neighbor, Kristi (who schlepped bagfuls of grains up to the little house on the big river where we have been spending the summer for the last 25 years), I have spelt galore to mill. So when I read Dan Lepard’s original recipe in the Guardian, I knew these rolls would appear on our table.
They offered the added benefit of baking rather quickly which is an important consideration when the temperature is hovering around 90° F/32° C. But given the surplus of levain (both firm and liquid) which I need to deal with everyday, I decided not to use yeast as he does and to go for liquid levain instead.
Also Lepard calls for strong flour which designates high-protein flour in the UK. I didn’t have any on hand as I always use all-purpose. Since corn has no gluten and spelt much less than wheat, I decided to add a little bit of gluten flour.
Finally I used maple syrup instead of honey because the honey we have here has spent winter on the island and is still a bit crystallized, so it would have been harder to mix in).
The rolls came out a little moist (even though their internal temperature was 210° F/99° C, so they were fully cooked) and wonderfully flavorful. They were a snap to make with nothing else than a bowl and my bare hands and I will definitely make them again. The kids loved them!
Ingredients:
75 g cornmeal or polenta
200 g boiling water
225 g cold water (I adjusted the original water amount to make up for the water in the levain)
20 g maple syrup
150 g levain (liquid starter at 100% hydration rate)
300 g whole spelt flour (I milled the grains right before starting on the dough)
125 g all-purpose flour
20 g gluten flour
11 g salt
Oil and flour, as needed
Method:
Please refer to the original recipe.
The sourdough corn and spelt rolls go to Susan’s goes to Susan’s Wild Yeast Blog for this week’s issue of Yeastspotting.

Sourdough granola bars

…or should I say “Granola Bars à la Susan“? Because it is on Susan’s blog, Wild Yeast, that I got the awesome, fantastic, super clever idea of using leftover 100% hydration levain to make granola bars! It simply had never occurred to me before. Here is Susan’s original post.

Like her and like most bakers I know, I just hate pouring starter down the drain (or in the compost bin). It smells yummy, it’s all set to get to work rising amber waves of crusty bread, so why, oh! why must I throw it out?

But of course I understand that if I kept feeding it the amounts of flour and water it needs to continue to thrive, I would soon have enough levain to fill a swimming pool and then where would I be? So yes, I do throw some out more often than not but when I happen upon a great way to do otherwise, I just jump on it, and yesterday morning when I read Susan’s post (it dates back to the end of May but I was traveling then and it had escaped my attention), I quickly took stock of what I had on hand and went to work.

Since I didn’t have all of the ingredients that Susan used, I substituted a few things: almond butter instead of peanut butter, maple syrup instead of honey, dried blueberries instead of golden raisins, dried apricot instead of dried cranberries and almonds instead of walnuts. I put in ginger as suggested in one of the comments to her post but, mindful of the calories, I used a bit less less pumpkin seeds and I halved the amount of sweetener. However, keeping in mind that my family has more of a sweet tooth than I do, I put some brown sugar on top to even things out a bit. Also, since Susan found her bars a bit too thin, I used more levain than she did and I baked mine in a biscotti pan.

Ingredients

285 g 100% hydration levain (sourdough starter)
100 g smooth unsalted almond butter
100 g rolled oats
75 g dried blueberries
75 g dried apricots, chopped
50 g maple syrup
50 g pumpkin seeds
50 g almonds, coarsely chopped
50 g pecans, coarsely chopped
15 g candied ginger, finely chopped (this could easily be doubled as the taste of ginger was rather faint)
6 g salt
brown sugar to taste (as a topping)
Method
I followed Susan’s instructions except that I toasted the pumpkin seeds, pecans and almonds at 350° F in the oven prior to chopping them and that I baked the mixture for 30 minutes instead of 20 since it was thicker.

Back home…for now!

Back home after a long visit overseas and itching to finally get back to baking after a 6-month hiatus, I took out the levain nuggets I had made in the fall to jumpstart the rebirth of my starter. (To make these nuggets, I cut up my 60% hydration starter in small pieces, let them air dry until completely dessicated and then store them in an airtight container). The whole process is normally a no-brainer: I cover two or three nuggets with water, let them sit for a while, add flour, mix and let rest, feed again, etc., until the thing come back to life. It usually takes between 36 and 48 hours.

Well, this time, it didn’t go as planned. The first batch of nuggets (luckily I had made three) had become infested with tiny black insects. All the bugs were dead (I guess levain bacteria are not what these beasties are supposed to snack on) but the nuggets were history.
As to the second batch, it didn’t even have a chance to show its mettle. Since the house was pretty cold (I know, everybody is sweltering across America but I assure you, in the Northwest, we have natural air-conditioning and my house is nowhere close to overheating). So anyway it was barely 60°F in the kitchen and since I am now the proud owner of a warming drawer (something I had never seen or used before), I figured I would set the warmer at the lowest temperature and put the levain inside. I guess I should have read the manual before I entrusted my baby to this thing as it does get awfully hot, much more than I thought! To make a long story short when I checked on the levain an hour later, it was resting placidly where I had left it and when I opened the lid, it exhaled a doughy sigh that bore no trace of the wild aromas I am so crazy about!
Out came the last surviving nuggets. Needless to say, I was extremely careful with them. I treated them to a steady diet of high-extraction wheat flour and freshly milled rye and after 24 hours of what I assume was deep reflection on their part, they finally came back to life. When they woke up, they showed such vigor that within 48 hours, I was able able to bake, which was good since we have family coming to visit next week and I needed to replenish the freezer…
While all this was going on I was so frustrated that I decided to go back to an old workhorse, Jim Lahey’s no-knead bread of New York Times and Internet fame, and give it another try, except that this time I used the same proportion of whole grain (a mixture of wheat, spelt and rye) as in my staple dough (the one I use for the rustic batard). This dough has a depth-of-flavor which we have grown addicted to and I wanted to see for myself how much was due to the freshly milled grains and how much to the levain.

Well, now I know. The yeast-based miche (made with a dough that had fermented 24 hours after the initial mix) turned out just fine but the aromas were muted, barely perceptible. Nothing like the fragrant music we have grown accustomed to. I am not bashing yeasted dough: I love tasty baguettes and other prefermented breads way too much for that. I am just saying that this 24-hour bread came in very handy (it made great breakfast toasts) but that it wasn’t the same, which means that I will happily remain on levain duty for the foreseeable future.