Farine

Crazy for Bread

Camembert in a Sourdough Jacket

My niece Flo whose beautiful and passionate blog, Makanai, is a treasure trove for gourmets and gourmands of all ilks as well as a mine of information on food intolerances and ways of coping with them – in French, I know, but there is always Google Translator) recently called attention on her Facebook page to a most appealing and ingenious appetizer, Camembert rôti en croûte de pain (literally Camembert baked in a bread crust), posted by Cindy of Food for Thoughts.
Baked Bries or Camemberts are nothing new. But a French cheese baked inside a miche au levain (a sourdough boule), now, that’s something I had yet to see. As luck would have it, we had just bought a pair of French Camemberts at Costco.
I had no boules in my freezer and no immediate prospect of baking one since my levain was still in reactivation mode after our long absence. However our local Trader Joe’s came to the rescue once more: I found there a boule of just the right size, made exclusively of flour, water and salt. Perfect!
I followed the original recipe to a t (except that I didn’t use sugar and that, having no garlic powder on hand, I just rubbed the inside of the hollowed-out miche with a fresh clove). I am not kidding myself that our baked Camembert was as flavorful as Cindy’s. It did come from France but it wasn’t made from raw unpasteurized milk, so it was certainly a good bit tamer than the one she was able to find in London. But it was still good enough that nobody seemed to mind (the bread was crisp on the outside and the cheese deliciously velvety and smokey-spicy). At least I imagine that’s the reason why it vanished so fast. Thank you, Cindy, for this great idea! Just in time for holiday entertaining too…
Make sure the cheese fits inside the hollowed-out boule
but don’t bake it with the wrapper still on!

Ingredients:

  • 1 Camembert from France (preferably made from raw unpasteurized milk if available in the country where you live)
  • 1 small sourdough boule (not San Francisco sourdough though as the sourness might overpower the cheese)
  • 1 1/2 teaspoon chili powder (I used chipotle chili)
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder (see above for possible substitution)
  • 1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
  • 1 tablespoon salted butter
Note: the original recipe also calls for 1/2 teaspoon of sugar but I didn’t use any.
Don’t you love the fragrance of garlic on fresh crumb?
To maximize it, split the clove in two
Method:
  1. Pre-heat the oven to 356°F/180° C (using convection if available)
  2. Cut off the top of the boule and set aside
  3. Hollow out the center of the boule and of the lid (making sure the Camembert easily fits into both)
  4. In a small bowl, mix chili, garlic powder (if using. If not using, rub the inside of the bread and of the lid with raw clove of garlic) and mustard powder
  5. Lightly butter the inside of the boule and of the lid
  6. Generously sprinkle the inside of the boule and of the lid with spice mixture
  7. Pre-cut the boule all around to make it easier to pull out croûtons later on (see picture)
  8. Scrape the Camembert all around, not forgetting the sides and bottom
  9. Place inside the hollowed boule, scatter rest of spice mixture over it
  10. Place the lid over the cheese making sure it fits the bottom snugly
  11. Bake in pre-heated oven for 30 minutes
  12. Let cool a few minutes before serving (serve the top alongside so that guests can rip chunks of it to dip in the melted cheese when the sides of the boule are all eaten up).
All dressed up and ready for the oven
The Camembert in a Sourdough Jacket goes to Stefanie whose marvelous blog, Hefe und mehr, is hosting this week’s issue of Yeastspotting.

Jeffrey Hamelman’s Whole Wheat Scones

Having experienced first-hand during his apprenticeship in Ireland how light and flaky scones could be (nothing like the sturdy and mealy-greasy items that often pass for scones on this side of the pond), Jeffrey Hamelman resolved to recreate the recipe for his bakery in Vermont and while his version isn’t likely to meet with the approval of the cholesterol police, it is still packed with wholesome nutrients since it relies exclusively on whole wheat flour. In case you are partial to scones, as I am, you are likely to be wowed if you try it at home.
If you are concerned about the amount of fat the recipe contains (Hamelman even advises using full-fat buttermilk if available), you can try taking out some of the butter, replacing some of the cream by more buttermilk, using a bit of sour cream, or mixing yogurt and buttermilk. I haven’t tried any of these skinnier suggestions but I will once the fourteen scones still waiting for us in the freezer are gone. The number of scones the recipe yields depends upon the size of the scoop used to shape them. In class we used a scantily filled 2.5 inch scoop and we got 16 scones. At home I used our regular 2-inch ice-cream scoop and I got 22 smaller ones.
Jeffrey uses Vermont white whole wheat pastry flour. I used Fairhaven white whole wheat pastry flour which is sold in bulk at my local natural food store. Other sources can surely be found in other parts of the country. It will be interesting to see if they yield the same results.
Scones can be scooped out and frozen raw close to each other on a sheet pan (covered with plastic) then bagged once frozen. There is an almost imperceptible flavor loss but the convenience makes up for it. They should be taken out and put on a sheet pan (spaced properly this time) in the refrigerator overnight for baking first thing in the morning (although I know some bakers bake them directly from the freezer, presumably adjusting the baking time accordingly). Don’t egg wash and/or top with sugar the scones you are planning to freeze (the dough would absorb it all).
Now for the funny part: I do not relish sweets and although I loved the scones we made during the class, they were a bit too sweet for my taste (I actually like savory scones best). But it was my first time trying my hand at the recipe at home and, contrary to my rebellious nature, I decided to follow it scrupulously.
In the best culinary school tradition, I did what we French call the “mise en place”, that is to say, I scaled all the ingredients and got them all lined up in little bowls on the workbench. I mixed the flour and the baking soda, I incorporated the butter as indicated. I poured in the liquids with the egg and mixed until just combined. I scooped out all the scones: 8 nicely spaced on one half-sheet pan, 14 closely packed on the other. I egg-washed and pearl-sugared the ones I intended to bake right away. I reached for a plastic bag to cover the sheet-pan destined to the freezer and that’s when I did a double-take: a hot pink bowl was sitting forlornly on the counter. It was full. Of sugar. I hadn’t added a gram of sugar to my dough. Freud was right: the subconscious rules! My scones were going to be savory indeed.
Nothing to do at this point but go forward. So I went ahead with the baking. My scones didn’t spread as much as the ones we made in class and I had to leave them in 5 minutes longer. I don’t know if that had to do with the lack of sugar or with the different absorption capacity of the Washington flour or with my oven… No way to know. What I do know is that my first bite into a cooled down scone was very tentative… I had completely skewed the formula. Would it still work?
Ladies and gentlemen, the answer is a resounding yes. So my advice to you is to do as you please with the sugar amount. The pearl sugar and the currants provide enough of a sweet hint to make the scones attractive to sugar lovers (who can always lather them with jam or honey later on) without displeasing those of us who have less of a sweet tooth. Leaving the sugar out or reducing it could potentially be a sure way to make everyone happy in the family. Think of the smiles around the table on Thanksgiving morning!
Before baking

Ingredients (for 22 small scones):

  • 545 g white whole wheat flour
  • 136 g sugar (optional as it turned out. Can also be reduced instead of just taken out)
  • 33 g baking powder
  • 3 g salt
  • 136 g butter, unsalted, diced, pliable
  • 109 g currants, tossed in a little extra flour
  • 60 g egg (1 large one)
  • 204 g cultured buttermilk (full-fat if available. I made mine at home using full-fat local Guernsey cow milk)
  • 289 g heavy cream
  • egg and milk for egg wash
  • Pearl sugar for decoration (optional) (I bought mine at Ikea)
Method:
  1. Pre-heat oven at 375°F/190°C
  2. Dice cold butter and leave at room temperature until pliable/soft. Toss currants in a little extra flour
  3. In a separate bowl, whisk the egg and add the buttermilk and heavy cream
  4. In the bowl of a stand mixer, blend the dry ingredients to combine
  5. Add the diced, pliable butter to the mixing bowl and, using the first speed, paddle into the dry ingredients until pea-size
  6. Add the currants, then the wet ingredients all at once to the mixing bowl. Still using the first speed only, blend until just combined.
  7. Portion with scoop of desired size onto parchment paper-lined baking sheet.
  8. Egg wash tops of scones and sprinkle with pearl sugar (if using)
  9. Bake (with no steam) for about 13 minutes or until tops are barely springy (I baked mine for a total of 18 minutes).
Jeffrey Hamelman’s whole wheat scones are going to Stefanie (whose marvelous blog Hefe and mehr will be hosting this week’s issue of Yeastspotting.)

Baking with Locally Grown Grains

“Baking with Locally Grown Grains”, such was the title of the class I recently attended at the King Arthur Baking Education Center in Norwich, VT. Sponsored by the Bread Bakers Guild of America (BBGA), it was taught by Jeffrey Hamelman (whose Bread: A Baker’s Bok of Techniques and Recipes figures prominently on the shelves of most serious bakers I know). Attendees were mostly professional bakers but there were also a few home bakers like me, so I didn’t feel like the odd woman out. All of us were brought there by the common resolve to keep farms up and running where we live and work by spending our money in our community. As Hamelman aptly put it: “If you buy grain from the neighboring farmer, there is a good chance he’ll become a customer at your bakery”.
Many of us were also motivated by the desire to savor our terroir which, in this context, can roughly be defined as the taste of the place where we live. The flour used in the class came from grain grown in Vermont to which most of the participants wouldn’t have access once back home but grains purchased from small farmers elsewhere in the country share enough similar characteristics that we can take the knowledge back to our bakeries and adjust our baking techniques accordingly to obtain the best possible results (at least that was my hope when I registered for the class and happily I left with the information I had been looking for).
Local grain can be used for more than making bread. Intent on making the point, Hamelman started the class by preparing a vegetable pie for which the mock puff pastry dough had been made with equal parts of Vermont white whole wheat pastry flour and white flour (from Gleason Grains).
On the second day, we made scones from local white whole wheat pastry flour. Based on a recipe Hamelman brought back from Ireland many years ago, they were simply the flakiest and lightest I have ever had and it was hard to believe they didn’t contain a gram of all-purpose flour. I’ll try and make them when I get home using Fairhaven white whole wheat pastry flour (Fairhaven Mill being the only source for organic grains and flours that I have discovered so far in my neighborhood). I’ll post the recipe then. So stay tuned if you like pillowy scones!

Update November 20, 2011: the recipe can now be found here.

Hamelman reminded us that, in colonial times, Vermont was the breadbasket of America and that wheat, rye and barley grew in the Champlain Valley. But as nutrients were not put back in the soil, it took only 20 years for the land to be overfarmed. With the construction of the Erie canal, more agricultural land eventually opened to the West. Wheat growing became concentrated in the Midwest and in the Canadian prairies. At the same time, the invention of roller mills and the expansion of the railroads made it economically possible to bring the grain back East. One by one the small grist mills which had dotted the Vermont landscape (there had been one every three miles on every little river) became idle and disappeared. The Western farmers were not breeding for flavor but for yield per acre and for the ability to withstand hailstorms (which explains the preference for short stalks). Short stalk wheat was the main thrust of research and development in the wheat business for over 100 years and still is today.
But some local farmers are pushing back: Jack Lazor (from Butterworks Farm) is a case in point. (If you are curious to learn more about him and his wife, you may want to read this detailed article about them in Vermont’s Local Banquet.)
I visited the farm a couple of years ago with a friend who is a baker and a long-time customer of the Lazors’ and I was struck by their energy, dedication and inventiveness.
Anne Lazor offered us bottles of her kefir and it was so good that, ever since, the very first thing on my list whenever I get to Vermont is to find a coop and buy some. We bought bags of spelt and hard red winter wheat.
I brought my purchases home (back then, I still lived in the Northeast) and as soon as I started baking from it, I was hooked. There was simply no comparison, taste-wise, between the flours I could buy at the grocery stores and the flour I milled from Lazor’s grains. The explanation is to be found in the varieties Lazor chooses to grow, which are typically more flavorful (and richer in nutrients) than the ones grown on an industrial scale.
For more information on the renewal of grain growing in Vermont, you may want to listen to this Vermont Public Radio talk.
But nothing is ever simple, is it? Buying grain or flour directly from a farm is tempting but it can have its pitfalls. In Vermont, many of today’s old farmers were once fervent adepts of the back-to-the-land movement and they are still at it. Their philosophy is: “It’s organic and we grew it. So it’s good.” Their milling is empirical and they don’t sift, so that the flour isn’t necessarily tailored to the needs of the artisan baker. However when they realize they can attract more customers by sifting a bit and also use the resulting bran for other purposes, they are more likely to adjust to the new demand.
The Northern Grain Growers Association was created with the help of the extension staff at the University of Vermont to foster a dialogue between the growers and beyond that, between the growers and the bakers. Hamelman was the first baker to join. Today Vermont farmers have a better understanding of the impact of their choice of grain varieties and milling techniques on the baking product and bakers are learning about farming life. On a much smaller scale, when seeking to buy grain from a local farmer who doubles as a miller, it is a good idea to tell him or her the baking characteristics you are looking for.
Don’t hesitate to ask about grain health either. Lots of crops are susceptible to fusarium. Cereal grains are no exception. If infected, they get fusarium head blight which gives them a very distinct pinkish cast. They can neither be used as seeds nor turned into flour. Therefore Hamelman advises any baker buying directly from a farm to have a conversation with the farmer about testing for DON (deoxynivalenol). DON can develop in the field in most growing conditions in the United States. Any grain with a level of DON above one part per million (1 ppm) is considered unfit for human production. For more information about crop diseases, you may want to check your local library for a copy of Field Crop Diseases Handbook by Robert Nyvall.
If the farmer is also the miller, ask about the milling stones. Are they vertical or horizontal? Horizontal stones might be preferable to vertical ones (I forgot why but if you are interested, I can find out). Are the stones properly dressed? American hard red winter wheat tends to wear them out faster than other grains and very few artisans now have the required skills to maintain the stones.
But even flour skillfully milled from healthy grain can produce a poor loaf of bread. Weather conditions are a factor. If the weather is dry close to the harvest, then the crop will have a higher protein content. While some moisture is ideal to get things going, wet summers can lower the amount of protein in the grain.
All kind of enzymes can be found in cereal grains. Amylase is one of these enzymes. Its role is to convert starch into sugar. As bakers, we need ample amylase potential in our flour. If the flour lacks amylase, very little starch is converted into sugar, fermentation is very sluggish and the resulting bread will be poor. If it contains too much, the fermentation gallops along, too much sugar is produced, the dough is too wet and the crumb gummy.
There can be an excess of amylase when the weather is too wet (it can happen in the field before the harvest, so that the resulting crop is spoiled or contains so much amylase that no miller will take it). Labs use the falling number method to calculate the level of amylase.
There is an inverse relationship between the falling number and the quantity of amylase in the flour. Millers won’t buy a grain with a falling number of 200. The bull’s eye is 250. It is much more useful to know the falling number than the level of protein. When you buy your grain or your flour directly from the farmer, you have no clue what the amylase level is. If you buy from an organic mill, you can ask the miller. If using one of these 5-lb bags sold at the supermarket, you don’t need to worry about it because the test will have been done at the mill and any amylase issue fixed through the blending of grains of different origins and the use of barley malt.
The falling number is usually quite high in whole wheat flour but this flour contains so many fermentable nutrients that it isn’t a problem whereas a low falling number would be. Another thing to remember is that rye is even more susceptible to wetness and excess of amylase than wheat. If you need to know the exact characteristics of the grain or flour you are buying from a local source, you can always send a sample for testing to CII Laboratory Services in Kansas.
I mentioned taste before. Beyond the desire to save food miles and to help farmers survive in our community, pleasing our taste buds is often the main reason we turn to local flours (for which we usually pay a premium). For some of us though, access can be problematic. Jack Lazor mentions during the above-mentioned radio talk that he feels very fortunate to be living and farming in Vermont. He had recently been to North Dakota and there, in the land of wheat, there was almost nothing local to be had…
If you are lucky enough to have access to a local source of tasty grains and flours and eager to start baking, what should you watch for?
  • One of the main principles when using local grains is that you need to process things fast. With Vermont flours, Hamelman likes to go for a one-hour-long first fermentation with three folds and he pre-ferments up to 35% of the total flour in the formula to compensate for the shorter bulk fermentation;
  • Use a firm starter (to better control the fermentation process);
  • Do not retard overnight;
  • Don’t try to go for a supermacho 85% hydration dough. Local grains are often low in protein and won’t be able to absorb as much water as the store-bought flours you might be used to;
  • When scoring, don’t make a zillion cuts (it would flatten the bread);
  • Local grains may have to go in the oven a bit underproofed;
  • You may want to start them in a hotter than usual oven (470° to 480°F/243° to 249°C) and to lower the temperature progressively (receding oven technique);
  • Steam the oven copiously, load the bread, steam again. Five minutes later (no more), open the vents (or, if you are a home baker, remove the steam-generating device from the oven).
If your local grain lacks protein:
  • Do an autolyse;
  • Watch your pre-shaping;
  • Pay attention to the shaping;
  • Reduce the fermentation time;
  • Bake in a hotter oven.
Several of the bakers attending the class are already baking some of their breads with local flours but logistics frequently intervenes to prevent them from using more. There is no infrastructure for grain delivery in Vermont (taking advantage of his booming yogurt business, Jack Lazor couples his grain deliveries with his dairy deliveries and can thus supply King Arthur’s bakery and other bakers but other farmers do not have that option).
White flour represents 99% of the flour eaten in the United States. But white flour mills are hard to come by. A regional one would cost about $10 million. Even if the money were to be found, how would the grain get to the mill? The railroads have gone the way of the grist mills…
I obviously don’t know what the future holds for artisan bakers or for farmers. But I do know that I love the back-to local-food movement: when I was a child, my grandparents grew most of our fruit and vegetables and raised chicken, ducks and rabbits and I didn’t even know it was a huge privilege to be fed that way. I took it totally for granted and complained when we overdosed on asparagus, strawberries or salsify. I never imagined our way of living and eating would one day follow the grist mills and the railroads and almost disappear… Any thing I can do at my modest level to make it come back, I will!

Whole Wheat & Hazelnut Breadsticks

My hand is still (a bit) sore and my levains are still asleep, so I am not back in baking mode yet but I have been meaning to share my hazelnut version of Martha Rose Shulman’s whole wheat and walnut breadstick recipe for a while. Now is as good a time as any, especially since it is hazelnut season and maybe you are lucky enough to have hazelnut trees in your garden.
I have tried it with levain instead of yeast (not as crisp) or with rye and spelt replacing some of the whole wheat (too assertive). I have also made it with walnuts as originally intended but as long as we have hazelnuts on hand, I always came back to this one which is our favorite.
I like to make it before traveling as the sticks’ elongated shape makes them ideal for the side pockets of our backpacks and with some cheese (even plain cheese sticks) and an apple or a handful of dried apricots, they make a wholesome snack on the go.
They are very good both with regular whole wheat and with white whole wheat.
Ingredients (for 24 breadsticks):

  • 425 g whole wheat flour (white or regular) (I use freshly milled)
  • 200 g unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 52 g finely ground hazelnuts (or hazelnut meal) (if using whole hazelnuts, roast them for 10 minutes in a 350°F/177°C oven, let them cool down a bit, then rub them in a kitchen towel to remove as much of the skins as possible before grinding)
  • 50 g hazelnut oil (a mild olive oil can be used instead)
  • 13 g sea salt
  • 3 g instant dry yeast
  • 314 g lukewarm water
  • 5 g honey or maple syrup (optional)
Method:
Please refer to the original recipe as I have followed it to the letter with excellent results.
These Whole Wheat & Hazelnut Breadsticks are going to Susan’s Wild Yeast for this week’s issue of Yeastspotting.

Blender Bread

I never thought I would make bread in a blender. Yet that’s exactly what I did yesterday and I can explain why in two words: extensor tenosynovitis (ET). Unless you are a physician or have had ET yourself, chances are you don’t know what I am talking about. Until day before yesterday I didn’t either and believe me, I wish I never learned. It is diabolically painful (and this, from someone who is known for having an abnormally high threshold for pain).

ET is a repetitive stress injury and I got it from watching Grey’s Anatomy on my handheld device. Which is why I should sue both ABC and the manufacturers of the device. Although maybe not ABC if they let me pick my doctor from the show…
See, what happened was that I was trying to get ready for Season 8 (which just started) by watching all seven previous seasons (which I had never seen before). That’s 148 episodes and by episode 140, I guess my left hand grew tired of holding the thing up so that I could better see MerDer drill holes in people’s skulls. It gave up without prior notice, leaving me unable to tie my shoe laces, cut veggies, feed my levains (which had to be forcibly dehydrated, poor babies), mix bread and, worse, hold my youngest (one-month old) granddaughter in my arms.

However since:

  • I own one of the powerful blenders you can see demonstrated at big warehouse stores
  • I got a grain attachment for it (for these seeds or beans which might damage my regular mill)
  • This grain attachment came with a booklet of recipes
  • Two of these recipes looked interesting: one for sourdough bread, one for hearty multi-grain yeasted bread
  • I had levain galore (as usual)

I decided to combine these recipes by just replacing the yeast by liquid starter.

The blender was going to do the work, so I didn’t have to worry about anything, right? Well, almost true. But let me tell you, I still found it exhausting to make bread that way. Too many ingredients. Weighing 5 g of this and 7 g of that countless times to get just one loaf in a 8.5 x 4.5 pan! Call me lazy but I don’t think it’s worth it.
The original multi-grain loaf recipe makes no mention of salt (did they just forget it or is it deliberate?) and eschewes bulk fermentation. The dough goes straight from the blender to the oiled pan. It is supposed to rise in 30 minutes, go into a 350°F oven for 30 to 35 minutes and voilà, bread done.
Well, it didn’t quite happen that way. The blender did a good job of milling the minute quantities of millet, buckwheat, flax seeds, wheat, spelt, rye, barley, sunflower seeds, etc. It did mix the dough reasonably well (but I had never had a dough come out at 87°F before and that, even though I used really cold water). I added salt (which is listed as optional in the sourdough recipe). I did upend the blender over the pan to let the dough drop gently into it. But I waited almost 5 hours for it to rise enough to go into the oven (and it had been in a warm place all that time). In all fairness I must say the recipe for the sourdough bread indicates that it might take anywhere between 30 minutes and 8 hours, depending upon the temperature of the room.
The result is as can be seen above. Not pretty but better than just edible. Will I make it again? No. Will we eat it? Yes. At least I will. It actually tastes very healthful. I am hoping it’s good for extensor tenosynovitis.