Dutch Masters

When My Beloved and I got the call from the masters of Dutch oven cooking, you can bet we got our buns over there in short order! We hastily mixed up some guacamole to take along as an offering to the DOG gods.

These guys are amazing. Black iron pans predominated, although there was a gorgeous dark red one, too, and the food that emerged a short time later was wonderful. We oohed and aahed over Guy's chile verde, Cameron's rabbit stew, Chilebrown's spatchcocked chicken and veggies, and Abram's smoked tri-tip. Those meaty men can really dish up some serious eats.

Although I sampled and approved in a deeply personal way all the meats, for me the standouts were the breads. Cam made a wheat bread that kicked a** and took numbers - crusty and crisp on the outside, with an airy crumb as light as foam and deep flavor from long rising. All it needed was some butter to make it perfect.

But the big winner in my opinion (and I'm not just saying this because he paid me to) was CB's signature Jalapeño Cheese Bread. I approached it with caution, knowing that CB loves spicy food and being a spice wimp myself, but I needn't have worried. Hearty and moist, with little pockets of melted cheese and chiles throughout, it was crusty and rich with flavors without being scorching hot.

The day was gloriously sunny but cool enough not to mind having several charcoal fires going at once. The company was convivial and the conversation almost entirely of barbecuing. My Beloved and I drove home to serious food coma - no dinner that night and I wasn't even hungry the next morning. I can't think of anything better.

Toast

I can't think of anything offhand that I enjoy more than simple buttered toast. It makes a great breakfast, or a worthy substrate for other foods, or a sustaining snack. I applaud whoever first took a slice of bread and held it over a fire until it turned lightly brown, then slathered it with butter. Whoever she was, she invented something so comforting, so universal that it ranks right up there with chicken soup in the pantheon of comfort foods.

When toast is made with bread like this, it surpasses good and goes straight to great. Cousin Jan gave us part of a loaf that she got from the estimable James Sartain, along with the recipe. I haven't made the bread myself yet but I have partaken of it and it comes recommended with several stars.

It's a no-knead bread, too, so even easier to make. I have to admit to being so wonky that I actually enjoy kneading bread, but even I rejoice when something this tasty doesn't require heavy work to produce.

Here's the recipe* - let me know if you make it and how it turned out. And don't forget to toast and butter a couple of the slices.

MASTER ARTISAN BREAD RECIPE

This recipe makes enough for four 1-pound loves and can be stored in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks. Bake it unadorned as a Crusty Boule, or roll ingredients into the refrigerated dough to create sweet and savory loaves.

*James Sartain left a comment and mentioned that he added 1/2 cup of his sourdough starter to the ingredients below, to give the bread added chewiness. If you have starter, you might want to do that, too.

3 1/2 Cups lukewarm water
4 teaspoons active dry yeast
4 teaspoons coarse salt
7 1/4 cups (2 lb. 4 oz.; 1027.67 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour (measure using scoop and sweep method)

1) Combine water, yeast and salt in large bowl. With spoon (or mixer with paddle attachment), stir in flour (dough will be wet)
2) Place dough in 5-quart lidded container; cover with lid (do not snap airtight). Let rise at room temperature 2 hours.

Refrigerate overnight or up to 14 days.

CRUSTY BOULE

This crusty European-style loaf has a crisp and hearty crumb. It's perfect as an everyday bread to serve with soups and salads or just a slice of cheese.

1-lb. (grapefruit-sized) portion of Master Recipe (above)

1) Hold dough and dust top with flour; quickly shape into ball by stretching surface of dough around to bottom on all four sides, rotating a quarter turn as you go.

2) Place dough on pizza peel or baking sheet liberally sprinkled with cornmeal or lined with parchment paper; cover loosely with lightly floured plastic wrap. Let stand in warm draft-free place 1 hour or until dough is slightly puffed and no longer chilled.

3)Thirty minutes before baking, place baking stone on center oven rack; place empty broiler pan on bottom oven rack. Heat oven to 450 F.

4) Dust loaf with flour. With serrated knife, make 2 or 3 (1/4-inch-deep) slashes in top of laof. Slide loaf (with parchment paper if using) onto baking stone. Immediately pour 1 cup of hot water into broiler pan; quickly close oven door to trap steam.

5) Bake 30 minutes or until deep golden brown and loaf sounds hollow when topped on bottom. Cool completely on wire rack.

1 (12-slice) loaf.
PER SLICE: 80 calories, 0 g total fat (0 g saturated fat), 2.5 g protein, 16.5 g carbohydrate, 0 mg cholesterol, 135 mg sodium, .5 g fiber.

The Payoff

I feel a little guilty. I was raised Catholic, so that's not surprising but, geez, all I did was pick up a sleepy young Englishwoman at the airport and give her a bed overnight, not nearly enough effort to deserve a gift of beautiful bread generously studded with raisins, moistly crumb-y in the center and flavored with spices.

Young Naomi has shared her mother Judy's recipe for the bread with us, first the official one that comes from some long-lost cookery book in England, then later her own tips: here goes!

Judy says: "Soak overnight 1 cup of leftover tea and 1 cup raisins (this bit is crucial for making the raisins really soft). Then add 1 egg, 2 cups of self-raising flour, spice and sugar to taste. Mix and scrape into small-ish loaf tin. Cook 300 degrees F for 1 hour."

Naomi adds: "I usually mix in a few more raisins, and sometimes some more tea, too, if I want a gooey consistency. I've found self-raising flour isn't always enough to make the bread rise, so often add a teaspoon of baking powder too. Usually just a couple of tablespoons max of sugar is sufficient. Normally I use just mixed spice, but for the one I made for you I didn't have any so instead combined some freshly ground all-spice, cloves and a dash of nutmeg. I find 1 hour is usually too long...instead I leave it in at a slightly higher heat (350) for 40 mins or so (check after 30).

Enjoy!"

I didn't feel so guilty that it kept me from gobbling up the lovely bread, of course! At this rate, I'm going to be meeting every flight from England, holding a sign that says "Bed and Breakfast in Return for Cherished Family Recipes."

Am I the Last?

Am I the last person in the Bay area to discover that, in addition to their delicious artisan-shaped breads, Acme also makes loaves of lovely bread? Where have I been all these years?

Anyway, in the past two weeks I have tried two of their loaf-shaped offerings, this Whole Wheat Seed bread and their Herb Loaf, which tastes like the herb slab they make, only taller.

The wheat bread is really nice, firm and full of wheaty goodness, not as dense and hearty as my own wheat bread, but that's a good thing! This bread has the lighter texture I was looking for without being wimpy. The herb loaf is studded with little flecks of herbs, a nice change from standard sandwich bread and toast.

I'm one of those people who is always out of the loop, but I finally get the picture!

My Heroine

When I made my first white bread a few weeks ago, My Beloved remarked that when he was a boy Pepperidge Farm used to make his favorite whole wheat bread, too, so we got Mrs. Rudkin's book out again and scanned the pages for that recipe.

I received this cookbook as a first-wedding present, back when God was a child, and Margaret Rudkin has been one of my holy trinity of cooks ever since - Julia Child, Jacques Pepin, Margaret Rudkin. The publication date is 1963. I've made many recipes from it, mostly traditional Irish recipes and of course the standard white bread, but had never attempted whole wheat bread before.

I have to admit, it wasn't an unqualified success, although the scent of this bread baking surpassed even the heavenly aroma of the white bread. It didn't rise as much as we'd have liked - I either need to give it more time or use more yeast - and the recipe said to bake it for 50 minutes, which is about 15 minutes too long; toasting, the crust burns before the middle is quite ready.

This is dense, serious bread, bread to sustain the family during hard times. It has the flavor My Beloved remembered but our taste is for lighter breads, even in a whole wheat loaf. So, next time I'll do some tweaking to the recipe with apologies to dear Mrs. Rudkin. She's still my heroine but she must have had a cooler oven and a warmer kitchen than I.

Doctored Beans

One of the pleasures of writing about whatever we're eating for dinner is that it often brings back memories from long ago to enjoy - or not, depending on the memory.

Because my birthday falls in February, I was not allowed to begin kindergarten even though my mother believed I was ready - or perhaps she was just eager to get that last kid out the door so she could have some peace and quiet! In any case, three of the mothers in our neighborhood felt the same way so they signed up for a Calvert School course and decided to home school their budding geniuses. They took turns preparing and presenting the lessons and some of my earliest memories are of my mother painstakingly printing out letters for me to copy.

By far, my favorite classmate was Sandy Ferguson; I can't even remember the name of the other kid in the class. Sandy was my best friend even before we started school together; we played well and never quarreled, something of a rarity with me and my friends. Very simply, I loved him.

Then, one day we were playing a very interesting game of doctor when Mrs. Ferguson discovered us. As I recall, I had Sandy stretched out on the ironing board and was about to take his temperature rectally when I looked up into Mrs. Ferguson's horrified face.

Although I was sent home immediately with a flea in my ear, Mrs. Ferguson did forgive me once she got over the shock and even gave us her recipe for baked beans, which I still make today. I don't always follow the recipe exactly; I leave out the brown sugar and go light on the maple syrup and, if I don't have apples in the house, I sometimes resort to unsweetened apple butter. The onions and oranges, however, are key ingredients, not to be messed with.

Mrs. Ferguson's Baked Beans

4 #2 jars of B & M Baked Beans (#2 jars ae 1 lb. 3oz. jars)
1 large Bermuda onion, sliced
1 large unpeeled orange, sliced (I used tangerines this time and they worked fine)
1 large unpeeled apple, sliced (or use unsweetened apple butter)
1 cup brown sugar (I omit this altogether)
20 whole cloves
1 cup (real) maple syrup

Grease the baking pot with the salt pork from the can of beans, line with a layer of onion rings, orange and apple slices, 1 jar of beans, 1/4 of the brown sugar, cloves, and syrup. Repeat until bean pot is almost full with alternating layers. Cover and bake 8-10 hours at 200 degrees.

Needless to say, I don't make this amount for just the two of us and I don't bake it for that long. Two or three hours at 300 degrees is fine. I serve this with tube steak and that wonderful Boston brown bread that comes in a can, thinly sliced and spread with cream cheese. I don't know if that's traditional, but it's how it was always done in my family.

I wonder where Sandy Ferguson is today and I wonder if Mrs. Ferguson chuckles over the memory as I do.

The House Smells Incredible!

Back in the Dark Ages, I used to make my own bread from Margaret Rudkin's original recipe for Pepperidge Farm bread, she who started PFarm in her kitchen and grew it until she sold out to Campbell's Soup for several zillion dollars. Pepperidge Farm bread was really delicious when I was a child (sadly, CSoup has changed the recipe and it's mush now) and she was my heroine when I was a young wife with a husband in grad school and no money. Not only was it far cheaper to make my own but it also tasted and toasted like heaven.

After moving back to California thirteen years ago, I had a full time job with an hour commute on either end, not a schedule conducive to the wifely art of bread baking (plus, for a while there, I wasn't a wife), so I stopped making my own and tried unsuccessfully to find a solid, tasty, non-mushy white bread.

Now that I'm retired, however, I have TIME. What an amazing thing time is! Time to let the bread rise twice so it tastes rich. Time to bake six loaves and give two to the neighbors, so that when you come back into the house feeling all generous and smug, you smell that yeasty, fresh bread smell all over again. Time to sit down with a cup of tea and a slice of your own still-warm bread and butter...

So far, I'm adjusting well to retirement.

Margaret Rudkin’s Pepperidge Farm White Bread, adapted from The Margaret Rudkin Pepperidge Farm Cookbook, Grosset & Dunlap, New York, 1963.

Over the years, I have simplified the recipe to my style of baking but the ingredients have not changed. I’m going to type what I do but for the real deal, you may want to see if you can find a copy of this cookbook. Mine is all spattered and tattered and falls open to Page 215 where the Standard White Bread recipe lives, but I still love it!

1/2 cup milk (I use 2%)
3 Tbs sugar
2 tsps salt
3 Tbs butter, cut into slices if cold
1-1/2 cups warm water
1 pkg dry yeast
5-1/2 cups unsifted flour (I used unbleached)

Combine milk, warm water and butter in a small saucepan over low heat until the butter begins to melt. The butter need not be completely melted but you want it to be soft and the liquid not to be hot (or it will kill the yeast. Test with your finger before adding to the dry ingredients – if it’s too warm, let it cool).

Meanwhile, mix 2 cups of the flour, the sugar, the salt and the yeast in the bowl of a food processor with the dough hook in place.

Add the lukewarm milk/butter/water mixture and process until you have an evenly mixed “slurry” of dry and wet ingredients, about 5-10 seconds. Remove the lid and add 3 to 4-1/2 cups more flour. Start with 3 cups and process for a minute or two. If the dough still feels sticky when touched, add a bit more flour (perhaps half a cup) and process again. Keep adding flour by half or quarter cups until the dough is smooth, shiny, elastic and non-sticky. You won’t need to knead – that’s what the food processor just did.

Transfer the kneaded dough into a large, oiled bowl, turning the dough in the oil until it is lubricated all over (if the bowl is not oiled, it will stick to the dough and retard the rising). Cover with a kitchen towel and set in a warm, draft-free place.

(*Note: In colder climates, that’s more difficult. When I lived in Western New York, I would turn my oven on briefly (perhaps 30 seconds) at the lowest setting just to gently warm the oven, turn off the oven again and set the bread bowl inside. Inside a microwave oven works, too, as long as you have one large enough and you don’t need it in the meantime. You can leave it out on the counter if you have a nice, warm kitchen. The idea is to give it a warm, draft-free place but not too hot as that would kill the yeast action)

Let the bread rise until it has doubled in bulk, about 1 hour. You will know when it’s ready as it will be puffy and if you touch it gently with your finger, it will leave a dent in the dough. If the dough springs back from your finger, let it rise longer.

Punch down the dough, releasing all the air bubbles and even squeeze it in your hands to make sure all the big bubbles are gone or you will have holes in the finished bread. Cut in two equal pieces. Shape each piece into a rough loaf shape and lay into 2 oiled loaf pans, each about 9 x 5 x 3 inches.

Cover the pans with a kitchen towel again and set them back into your warm, draft-free place for another hour or until doubled in bulk. They will rise a little in the oven but not much as the yeast action will be killed by the oven’s heat so let them get almost as big as you want the loaf to be before baking.

Bake in a hot (400 degree F) oven for about 25-30 minutes, checking at 20 minutes. You want the loaf to be richly browned and to have a hollow sound when tapped.

(*Note: the original recipe calls for 50 minutes of baking but I have found that to be too long for my oven – you will need to experiment)

Remove the loaves from the pans immediately and cool the bread on wire racks. When completely cooled, (if you haven’t already eaten the whole thing by then!), wrap airtight and keep refrigerated. Because there are no preservatives, the bread will grow lovely molds if not refrigerated.

The bread freezes well if wrapped airtight (I wrap the loaves in plastic wrap and then in freezer bags). I make six loaves at a time and wrap five for the freezer – it takes only an hour more and it justifies the messy fun for longer.

Let me know how yours turns out!