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Crêtes-de-Coq (Oven-Baked Meat Patties)


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Odile, my paternal grandmother, called these patties crêtes-de-coq (literally, rooster crests), probably because of their fan shape. I’ve trawled for that name in Google and only came up with recipes using actual rooster crests. So maybe she made up the name or maybe she got it from the aunt who raised her and taught her to cook.

Odile was born and grew up in the Tarn in southwestern France, a region with a rich culinary tradition (but then what part of France doesn’t have a rich culinary tradition?)…

…and she had a magic touch in the kitchen, probably the only place where she was truly happy. Away from it, she was dour and embittered, emotionally crippled by the series of hard punches life had thrown at her. She was a tough grandma, unyielding and distant. Hard to love. But in the kitchen, she smiled. She would call out to us when we arrived on our weekly Sunday visit, lift up pot lids, open the ovens for a minute giving us a glimpse of the baking apple croustade, a peek at the roasting home-raised chicken, offer a spoonful of her hare civet, a forkful of the terrine she was slicing. As a child the kitchen was the only place where I felt safe with her (elsewhere her tongue was sharp and her bite ferocious). Now I realize that cooking was probably the only way she could express love and that she took great pleasure and comfort in watching us eat what she made.
Her crêtes-de-coq were sublime: she rolled out a butter dough, cut out rounds with an inverted glass (actually she let us take care of that part and we loved it), put on each a spoonful of whatever meat had been leftover from other meals, chopped up with onions, herbs and maybe a little garlic, folded them over, crimped the edges with a fork and deep-fried them to fragrant crispiness. We could never get enough of them.
She never used a cookbook (didn’t even own one) and regrettably never wrote anything down, leaving us with nothing but memories of her feasts. I have made my grandma’s crêtes-de-coq for my kids as they were growing up when I still owned a deep-fryer and didn’t think twice about the amount of fat and butter in a recipe. Now that the Man has to watch his cholesterol, though, I had to look for another way and his birthday dinner offered an excellent opportunity to try my hand at a lighter version. He loved them and, as my grandma before me, I took great pleasure in seeing him devour them.
These little patties make an excellent tapa, especially if served piping hot with crisp French cornichons (sour pickles) but I would settle for some with a mixed green salad any night of the week and call it dinner.
I am not posting exact weights for the filling as I pretty much used whatever leftover meat I could find in the freezer (I had chicken thighs and sweet fennel sausage), added some parsley and basil from the garden, some onion and garlic, chopped up everything and wrapped it in bread dough.
Anything can be used that won’t leak and make the patty soggy, including chopped up greens (Swiss chard with crumbled feta and fresh mint for instance) and mushrooms (but I would cook those first to make them yield their water) with leeks, etc.
For the dough, I hand-mixed: 

  • 500 g of flour
  • 250 g of water
  • 11 g of olive oil
  • 10 g of salt
  • and 4 g of instant dry yeast until smooth and pliable.

I let it rest 90 minutes before rolling it out thin with a rolling pin.


Then I cut out circles with an inverted glass and went to work.





Once the crêtes were ready, I painted them with eggwash (i.e. an egg beaten with some milk), pricked them with a fork and baked them for 25 minutes in a 425F/218C pre-heated oven.

I had dough and filling left over but when I reassembled the pieces of dough and tried to roll them out again, they were not so compliant anymore. So I gave them to my 4-year old granddaugher who promptly put them to good use…

…and I made pan-fried “sausages” of the remaining filling. They will be scrumptious cold with a salad or in a sandwich.

As for my granddaughter, she opened up the crêtes-de-coq, extracted the filling and threw out the crusty wrappers: “I like meatballs without bread”, she said, handing me the empty shells. I smiled at her. She was creating her own memories…

I hadn’t thrown away the leftover dough after my granddaughter was through playing with it but stored it in the fridge overnight thinking she might be happy to play with it again in the morning. However this morning I found it had relaxed again and fermented some more and it now smells so delicious that I am just going to incorporate it as a pre-ferment into my next batch of bread. Never waste anything if it can be helped. This too I learned from my grandmother.

These crêtes-de-coq go to Susan, from Wild Yeast, for Yeastpotting. This week’s Yeastspotting will be hosted by Iamafoodblog.

Pan Bigio

I borrowed this recipe from Carol Field’s The Italian Baker and I mostly followed it , except that I didn’t make the biga out of yeast and that I used more whole wheat than she does.
When I am home, I keep my starter on the kitchen counter and refresh it daily, which means that I have either to use it or throw some away. Since I don’t like to throw any away if I can avoid it, I decided to make a sourdough biga and I actually loved how it smelled and tasted. I fail to see in what way it differs from a regular stiff starter but since it goes into an Italian bread, I’ll still call it biga.
What I find amazing is that, with the addition of more water, the dough understands it is supposed to act Italian and that the end result and the taste are completely different from those of a French bread.
Carol Fields says in her introduction to the recipe that this bread is the classic bread of the Italian peasant.
We had it with dinner last night (a huge salad of mixed greens with creamy Gorgonzola) and it was excellent.


Ingredients (for 2 large or 3 smaller round loaves):
For the biga

  • 361 g unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 255 g mature liquid starter (100% hydration)
  • 159 g water

For the final dough

  • 400 g unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 350 g white whole wheat flour
  • 560 g water
  • 18 g salt
  • 3 g instant yeast

Method: This bread is made over two days since the biga needs time to ferment. As the dough is very wet, it is best to use a stand mixer.

  1. The day before: Mix all the ingredients until a sticky dough is formed. Remove to a lightly oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap and let rise overnight or up to 24 hours at cool room temperature. Refrigerate after that if not using immediately for up to 72 hours (the recipe will not make use of all of the biga, so you can plan to incorporate the leftover into another dough if desired or to freeze it for a later use)
  2. On the day of the baking: place the biga and 80% of the water in the bowl of the mixer equipped with the paddle attachment and mix until the biga is well broken up
  3. Mix the yeast with the flours and add to the mixture together with the salt. Switch to the dough hook and mix at medium speed until dough reaches low/medium consistency (when you pinch off a piece of it with wet hands and stretch it, you should see a thin membrane – or “gluten window” – with opaque spots, which means the dough is ready)
  4. With the mixer on low speed, slowly add the rest of the water (it might take a while as you truly need to add just a trickle at a time)
  5. Finish kneading the dough by hand on a well-floured surface, sprinkling the top with more flour
  6. Place in a lightly oiled large bowl or bucket, cover tightly and let rise until tripled and full of air bubbles, about 3 hours. Do not punch down
  7. Turn the dough out onto a well-floured surface and shape into 2 big round flats or 3 smaller ones, making sure to pull tight on the surface of the dough with cupped hands to make it taut
  8. Place the loaves, rough side up on well-floured parchment paper sheets set on baking sheets (it is very important that the parchment paper be extra well-floured as the dough is extremely sticky and might not detach itself easily later on)
  9. Place the baking sheets in large clear plastic bags, tightly sealed and let proof about 1 hour
  10. Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450 F/232 C after placing inside a baking stone and a shallow metal pan
  11. Dimple the top (rough) side of the loaves all over with your fingertips and let rest for 10 to 15 minutes
  12. Just before baking, sprinkle the baking stone with cornmeal
  13. Gently invert the loaves over it
  14. Bake for 45 (small loaves) to 55 minutes (larger ones)
  15. Let cool on racks.

The Pan Bigio goes to Susan, from Wild Yeast, for Yeastpotting.

Blueberry Bread with Spelt Starter

Even though (or because?) it is a three-party marriage (“un mariage à trois” as we say in French, usually with a snicker), the alliance between spelt, apple and blueberries really rocks!
The flavors complement each other with none of them trying to steal the show. Definitely a felicitous union although it could be be sweeter. That is, I could have put in a sweetener. I didn’t because I usually prefer not to, but this time, just a hint of agave nectar or honey would have been welcome.
You know how they talk about the boys of summer? Well, this is a bread of summer. It brings back memories of fragrant hayrides and long hours among the bushes, picking to one’s heart’s content.

I love blueberries, their shape, their color and the way they seem to blush under the thinnest coating of mauve talcum powder. I actually read somewhere that this very thin powder is their sunscreen. They secrete it to protect themselves from rays that would otherwise turn them into raisins. I wish we were genetically programmed to do the same. Although maybe that’s what a suntan is…
But too much suntan does turn you into a raisin after a while… So we don’t have it as easy as blueberries and that’s a fact.
Anyway, I was trying to come up with a blueberry bread that could be eaten on its own, a bit like a quickbread, and still be a “real” bread, the macho type with a nice crust and a chewy crumb. And save for the fact that it could have been a wee bit sweeter, this bread delivers. As is, it is actually excellent with Swiss cheese or white Cheddar cheese and obviously delicious with blueberry jam!
I would have used all spelt (a combination of white spelt and whole spelt flours but I ran out of white spelt, so I replaced some of it with unbleached all-purpose flour). Spelt flakes and/or spelt bran could be added for texture if desired. I had given my usual white starter (100% hydration) two feedings of spelt and it looked quite happy and rearing to go. So off we went…
Ingredients (for 1 small loaf and 1 big one):

  • 288 g white spelt flour
  • 171 g whole spelt flour
  • 112 g unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 285 g water
  • 115 g spelt starter
  • 86 g unsweetened applesauce
  • 229 g fresh blueberries
  • 28 g almond oil (or other neutral oil)
  • 13 g salt
  • 2.8 g instant yeast
Method:
  1. Mix the instant yeast in the flour
  2. Put the flours, the starter, the oil, the applesauce and about 80% of the water in the bowl of a stand mixer and mix on low speed until incorporated. Add the reserved water as needed
  3. Let rest, covered, for 20 to 30 minutes (autolyse)
  4. Add the salt and mix at medium speed until the dough reaches a low/medium level of gluten development (when you pinch a piece of it off with wet hands and stretch it, you should see a thin membrane – or “gluten window” – with opaque spots and that means the dough is ready)
  5. Place the dough on a flour-dusted worktable and gently incorporate the blueberries, taking care not to squash them too much
  6. Spray with oil a large bowl or bucket, put the dough in it and cover tightly
  7. Let ferment for 1 1/2 hour or so (if the dough is very slack, you may want to give it a fold after the first 30 minutes)
  8. Spray the worktable with oil and gently put the dough on it, taking care not to deflate it or squash the blueberries more than necessary
  9. Divide the dough in 1 small loaf and 1 big one (or 3 small ones)
  10. Pre-shape the pieces in balls and let them rest, covered, for about 20 minutes
  11. Shape tightly in the desired shape (I made one small boule and one big oval bread as I don’t have 3 small baskets) and place in well-floured baskets or bannetons
  12. Set to proof for about 45 minutes inside a clear plastic bag, well sealed
  13. At least 30 minutes before baking time, preheat the oven to 450 F/232 C, after placing a baking stone and a shallow metal pan inside
  14. When the loaves are ready, turn them out of their baskets onto a semolina-dusted sheet of parchment paper placed on a half-sheet pan or baker’s peel and score them in a cross pattern
  15. Pour one cup of water into the shallow metal pan, taking care to protect your face and hands
  16. Slide the loaves onto the baking stone, spray the oven walls heavily with water and close the door
  17. Bake for 35 minutes (turning them half-way during baking so that they color evenly)
  18. Then remove the parchment paper from under the loaves and flip them over gently to ensure a crisp bottom (that’s because the blueberries tend to leak during baking and make the bottom of the loaf soggy in places)
  19. Bake another 5 minutes
  20. Remove from the oven and set on a rack to cool. Enjoy!


This Blueberry Bread goes to Susan, from Wild Yeast, for Yeastpotting.

Kamut Miche

Yearning after the gorgeous breads that Safa Hemzé made at SFBI this winter using specialty flour starters, I decided to make a spelt miche. When I started rummaging in my flour chest however, I discovered we were all out of spelt but that we had a cache of whole kamut flour I had completely forgotten about. So I switched grains.
Kamut is actually a brand. The common name of the cereal is khorasan. But good luck with finding khorasan in the stores!
As the story goes, it was found in an Egyptian tomb by an American who shipped a few grains home to his father. The father sowed the grains and trademarked the name. Originally from Mesopotamia, kamut as we know it is organically grown in the United States. It is richer in protein and some minerals, especially selenium, than wheat but poorer in gluten. It is sometimes tolerated by people who can’t have wheat, not however by people who have coeliac disease (according to Wikipedia).
I took a portion of my white starter (100% hydration), fed it twice with kamut and decided it was ready although it looked definitely less perky than when fed with wheat. But ready it was because even though I chose a long fermentation over the addition of instant yeast, it gave me a very satisfactory oven spring.
Oven spring isn’t all there is to like about this bread, however. Safa is right, when you switch flours in the preferments, you do get amazing flavors. This bread has a complex and delicate taste. It is delicious just eaten on its own, especially because the crumb turned out silky and, while not wet, still not dry either, just what you want in a piece of bread when you don’t necessarily intend to put butter or anything else on top. If I was given one word only to describe this crumb, I would say that it is voluptuous…
The dough mixed easily but wouldn’t accept all of the 65% of water I had planned for it. It just wouldn’t. So I didn’t insist. I let it reach the desired consistency (low-medium gluten development), then ever so gently I added in most of the remaining water. I did it very slowly, so as not to drown the gluten and it was fun to see it gasp and sink and then swim back to the surface and ask for more. At one point though it clearly had enough and that was it…

I find doughs have a mind of their own and – most of the time – it’s fun to look for it and discover it and then work with it.
I had just read Joe Ortiz’s chapter on stencils in The Village Baker and I decided to try his technique of piercing the surface of the dough in 8 or 10 differents points before stenciling, so that you don’t need to score and still the bread won’t implode. The bread definitely didn’t implode, so it worked, but I don’t care very much for the look of these holes. They make it seem as if I’d tried to make Swiss cheese, not bread. I didn’t use an icepick as Ortiz recommends but a thin wooden skewer, the kind that’s used for chicken satay. But an ice pick probably makes even larger holes, so I don’t think that was the problem…
I also discovered that although it’s fun to write with flour, a miche doesn’t give a baker a lot of writing space. Kamut is fine, so would wheat and spelt be and rye would be even better, but forget about buckwheat or amaranth! So if miche-writing is your calling, be sure to pick your grain carefully…

Ingredients:

  • 476 g unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 127 g white whole wheat flour
  • 127 g kamut starter
  • 32 g whole grain kamut flour
  • 412 g water (I had 19 g left at the end of the mixing)
  • 14 g salt
  • 13 g olive oil

Method:

  1. Put the flours, the starter, the oil and 80% of the water in the bowl of the mixer
  2. Mix at low speed until incorporated
  3. Cover the bowl with a towel and let rest 20 to 30 minutes (autolyse)
  4. Add the salt and mix until the dough reaches low-medium consistency (when you wet your hands and pinch a piece of it, as you stretch and turn, you should start seeing a translucid membrane with some opaque spots)
  5. Start adding the remaining water very slowly until the dough can’t take anymore
  6. Set the dough to ferment in a large covered lightly oiled bowl or dough bucket
  7. Give the dough a fold 30 minutes later, repeat after 30 minutes if the dough is still too slack
  8. Let the dough finish rising (it should have almost doubled. In my relatively cool kitchen 0 68F/20C, it took 7 hours altogether)
  9. Pre-shape the dough in a ball and let it rest 20 minutes, covered
  10. Shape it into a tight ball and let it proof for about 40 minutes on a flour-dusted parchment paper sheet set on a baking sheet
  11. Preheat the oven to 470 F/243 C with a baking stone in the middle and an empty shallow metal pan on a different oven shelf
  12. Pierce the loaf to a depth of about 1 inch (4 cm) in 8 or 10 different spots and stencil it if desired (one can also just dust the miche with flour and score it)
  13. Pour a cup of water in the prepared metal pan inside the oven (taking care to protect your hands and face) and slide the miche onto the baking stone
  14. Spray the oven walls with water and quickly close the oven door
  15. Lower the oven temperature to 450 F/232 C and bake for 30 to 40 minutes. The inside temperature of the loaf should be over 205 F/96 C.

The Kamut Miche goes to Susan, from Wild Yeast, for Yeastpotting.

Double Apple Bread

The idea for this bread came to me as I was continuing my spring cleaning of the kitchen cabinets and encountered a half-full container of organic dried apples I had bought a couple of months ago at the farmers’ market on 47th street. I had some fresh apples as well which I needed to do away with before our trip. I also had some newly bought muesli that I was eager to try.
I remembered reading in Joe Ortiz’s The Village Baker that he made a bread with an apple starter and another one with some muesli mash. I didn’t have time to make a foolproof apple starter (although I definitely will later on this summer or this fall because I love the idea) but I thought, hey, why not try to just ferment an apple with some sugar and water and see what happens?

If it didn’t turn out to be palatable, nothing much would be lost except the apple. As for the muesli mash, it is very easy to make. Just soak the muesli with hot water overnight, in the morning add the flour and the sweetener (inspired by Jeremy from Stir the Pots, I used pomegranate molasses instead of honey) and let it rest between 24 and 36 hours.
But everything hung on the fate of the fermented apples. Would they make the bread or the compost heap? On the day of the baking, when I woke up, I still didn’t know. I uncovered the bowl and hesitantly took a tiny bite out of a tiny piece and…the flavor was incredible, both sweet and alcoholic and very, very sophisticated. The juice that had seeped out was marvelous in its own right. It went straight into the dough. Imagine fall concentrated into an elixir and you’ll have an idea of what it tasted like. I bet fermented apple pieces would be delicious in sourdough pancakes. That will be for when we come back!

 


The fermented apple after 5 days

Meanwhile, hesitation was no longer possible, the bread was begging to be made. I knew I wanted a healthy dose of whole wheat flour and I also wanted a very wet dough as the dried apples might soak up all the moisture otherwise and I would end up with an autumn-tasting brick.
So here is the recipe I came up with. I added a tiny bit of honey. For consistency sake, I should have stuck to the pomegranate molasses but, still under the spell of the magical potion, I completely forgot that it had been my sweetener of choice for the muesli mash. Ah well, not to worry! Pomegranate molasses being quite acidic, maybe honey was a better choice anyway, especially because I had forgotten to feed my starter the day before and it was definitely giving me sour looks.

 


The dried apples from the farmer’s market
When I wrote the above post, we hadn’t yet tasted the bread. Now we have and we love it. It has a crunchy crust and a flavorful crumb and the pieces of apple are a real treat. The interior could be a bit more open but I am not sure how to go about getting more holes with as much whole wheat. I’ll have to experiment. As always, suggestions are welcome!

In any case, my family loved this double apple bread and that makes it a keeper for me as I always like to see them gobble up whole grains without noticing it. Next time however:

  • I will NOT forget to feed my starter the day before
  • Which means that I will NOT use yeast
  • Which also means that I will go for a longer fermentation time
  • Which probably means that I’ll retard the dough overnight
  • I will play around with the amount of fermented apples to try and get more of that awe-inspiring liquor which tasted like it was well on its way to transmuting into either calvados (apple brandy) or hard cider, and replace more of the water with it for added flavor
  • I’ll probably use a white whole wheat mash (I’ve never tried one before and I am curious to see how it turns out) which will either replace or complement the muesli

Ingredients (for one large loaf and a small one):

For the fermented apples

  • 165 g firm apple (I used a Fuji), peeled, cored and cut into little pieces, left to marinate for 5 days in a tightly covered bowl with one stirring a day
  • 37 g granulated sugar
  • 26 g water

For the muesli mash

  • 90 g muesli
  • 40 g raisins, added to the muesli prior to soaking
  • 140 g hot water
  • 77 g unbleached all-purpose flour, added after a 12-hour soaking of the raisins and muesli
  • 1/2 tsp pomegranate molasses (or honey), also added after the initial 12-hour soaking

For the final dough

  • 400 g unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 400 g white whole wheat
  • 420 g water
  • 200 g mature liquid starter (hydration 100%)
    all of the muesli mash
    all of the fermented apples (however the juice is added to the dough at the beginning of the mixing and the pieces of apple themselves at the end)
  • 37 g dried apple slices, roughly chopped
  • 21 g pomegranate molasses (or honey)
  • 20 g hazelnut oil (a neutral oil such as canola or almond would work too)
  • 20 g salt
  • 5 g instant yeast

Method (this bread is made over 6 days):

  1. Five days before baking day, mix apple, sugar and water in a small bowl and cover tightly. Set it to ferment in a warm place and give it a stir every 24 hours
  2. At least 36 hours before baking day, mix the muesli in a small bowl, cover well and let soak overnight or for 12 hours. The following morning, add the flour, cover tightly again and set to ferment in a warm place next to the apples. Forget all about it for the next 24 to 36 hours
  3. On baking day, put the flour, the muesli mash, the starter, the yeast, the oil, 80% of the water and the juice of the fermented apple in the bowl of the stand mixer and mix at low speed until incorporated (adding water as necessary)
  4. Cover the bowl of the mixer with a towel and let rest 20 to 30 minutes (autolyse)
  5. Add the salt and mix at medium-speed until the dough reaches medium consistency (when you pinch off a piece of it with wet hands and stretch it, you should see a thin membrane – or “gluten window” – with opaque spots, which means the dough is ready)
  6. Add the dried apple and mix briefly until well distributed
  7. Place the dough on a flour-dusted surface, knead for a few seconds by hand and incorporate the fermented apples until well distributed
  8. Place the dough in a large lightly oiled bucket or bowl and cover tightly
  9. Leave to ferment for 1 1/2 hour, giving the dough one fold after 30 minutes
  10. Divide in two (I made one large and one small loaf) and pre-shape each piece into a ball, cover and let rest for 20 minutes
  11. Shape tightly into balls and set to proof for about 40 minutes in well-floured baskets or bannetons placed in a clear tightly sealed plastic bag
  12. 30 minutes before baking time, preheat the oven to 475 F/246 C after placing inside a baking stone and a shallow metal pan
  13. Invert the boules onto a semolina-dusted sheet of parchment paper placed on a baker’s peel or half-sheet
  14. Dust them with flour (if desired) and score them
  15. Pour one cup of water in the metal pan, taking care to protect face and hands
  16. Slide the boules into the oven (still on the parchment paper) directly onto the baking stone
  17. Spray the oven walls with water
  18. Close the oven door and lower the temperature to 450F/232C
  19. After 30 minutes, rotate the boules and check the color of the crust. If already quite dark, lower the oven temperature and/or protect the boules with tented foil
  20. Bake another 10 minutes
  21. Turn off the oven and, keeping the oven door ajar, let the loaves dry out another 5/10 minutes
  22. Set to cool on a rack.

This Double Apple Bread goes to Susan, from Wild Yeast, for Yeastpotting.