Sunday, 18 March 2012

Sourdough started... again

Rest in peace (well, down the drain actually) my first sourdough starter. I pulled it out of the fridge to wake it up again a few days ago but, after a couple of feedings, something went a little wrong and it decided to separate, for good. It clearly wasn't active any more so it was time to throw it away and start anew. A little sad but never mind.


I've started a new starter now and this time followed instructions from Dan Lepard's The Handmade Loaf. Whereas my previous starter was purely made from flour and water, this includes ingredients to encourage the right sort of bacteria to develop. So along with 2 rounded teaspoons of rye, 2 rounded teaspoons of strong white flour and 50g water at 20°C (the perfect temperature for the bacteria that we want in our starter), this mix included 2 rounded teaspoons of raisins and 2 rounded teaspoons of natural yoghurt. This was mixed in a steralised bowl, with a steralised spoon, and then covered and left at room temperature.


Let's see how this one goes.



References
The Handmade Loaf, Dan Lepard, Mitchell Beazley, 2004

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Smoked bacon and red onion rye bread

Well, I may not be gluten intolerant but clearly cake is my enemy, because I feel awful today and I think I know what to blame. I paid a visit to a Clandestine Cake Club on Tuesday; so fun, met some great people and tried some amazing cakes, but my body isn’t going to forgive me for the fat and sugar consumption on the night.

I’m feeling a little rough now and pretty tired. But there’s one thing guaranteed wake any non-veggie up; the smell of bacon. Combine it with bread and what do you get? Smoked bacon and red onion rye bread. And yes, it’s a Richard Bertinet recipe... I’ll start to deviate again soon.

So, on a chilly and blustery day, I headed down to the village and bought one whopper of a red onion and some streaky bacon, the produce of a local smokehouse. Once back home (wondering why the 2 cups of coffee hadn’t kicked in yet), I finely sliced the onion and cut the bacon into thin strips using a pair of scissors (it’s one of those cheats that works so well). I started the bacon off in a pan with a tablespoon of olive oil... then decided that the pan wasn’t big enough, so moved it to a bigger one and carried on frying until the bacon began to brown, then added the onion and it until softened. I added a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar and used this liquid to help get the flavoursome scrapings off the bottom of the pan. The whole lot went into a bowl to cool (which I covered with my copy of Dough) and I weighed out most of the rest of the ingredients, which included 10g fresh yeast, 400g strong white bread flour, 100g rye flour (it was meant to be “dark” rye flour, but I had what I had, and it wasn’t “dark”. That proportion of rye flour also made it seem a bit like a cheat rye bread but would guarantee a fairly light, soft bread) and 10g salt. All this prepared and... I headed off to work experience.

I got back a few hours later (still not completely awake, and a little cold from being in our rather peculiar bakery) and got on to actually bringing the ingredients together. The yeast got mixed with 350g water; normally I’d rub the yeast into the dry ingredients, but it’d come out of the freezer and defrosted into slop, so that wasn’t really going to work... not that it really matters... The water/yeast got mixed into the flours/salt and the usual process of bringing the dough together, turning it out onto a work surface and kneading until smooth and elastic commenced. Close to the end of kneading, I did my best to incorporate the bacon and onion mixture by kneading it through... always fun with something coated in fat, which tends to want to slide off the dough and catapult across the work surface rather than actually get moulded into the dough. It went in... sort of... and went back into a mixing bowl, covered with a tea towel, to double in size.

Where I left it was possibly a little too warm because it looked a tad on the shiny/greasy side when I lifted the tea towel off, but it had still risen and was still pretty firm. I gently teased it out onto a floured worktop and divided it into 4, then shaped each piece into a ball. They went onto my trusty baking tray (which, despite being non-stick, I greased quite liberally with oil) and got covered with a tea towel to rest for 10 minutes, which I assume was done to let the dough relax slightly before they were rolled into yet tighter balls. These balls went back on the baking tray, were covered again and this time went to prove for about 1 ¼ hours, again until doubled in size.

I’ve still not got the hang of transferring my proved bread to a baking tray that’s been preheating in the oven and I wasn’t feeling very daring... I still have visions of flipping the dough onto the flour rather than into the oven, so I chickened out and went into the blisteringly hot even on the tray that they’d proved on. I need to invest in a baking peel and stone... when I actually have some money. I did, however, use the trick of putting some water in a preheated baking tray at the bottom of the oven; this helps to prevent a crust forming on the bread too early and so allows it to rise further. Next came a little bit of oven temperature juggling (for the finer points of this, see recipe below), which probably wasn’t anywhere near as accurate as the oven claimed. And, 20-30 minutes of cooking later, lots of loaf tapping and several occasions where I questioned my ability to judge a hollow sound, my loaves were cooked... and looking a little rude because I’d slashed them the wrong way.

I’d been worried when I’d tapped my loaves because they were pretty heavy and I was expecting to cut them open and discover something dense and brackish, but I was pleasantly surprised. Ok, none of the bubbles were huge, but there was still a fluffy if tightly-baked bit of crumbage going on. So they were still soft to chew on, and the flavour... yum! The balsamic vinegar added at the end of frying seemed to have heightened both the onion and bacon flavours and so, combined with the flavour form the rye flour, the whole thing came together as a thoroughly substantial and satisfying bread.

So much so, in fact, that I almost over-faced myself when chowing down on a whole one for lunch.

Almost... Oh, the cake is so quickly forgotten.

Simplified recipe

Ingredients
8 rashers smoked bacon, cut into thin strips
1 large red onion, finely sliced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
400g strong white bread flour
100g rye flour
10g fresh yeast
10g salt
350g water

Method
1.       Heat the olive in oil a large frying pan and, once hot, fry the bacon until it begins to colour
2.       Add the onion to the pan and fry until softened
3.       Add the balsamic vinegar to the pan and fry for another minute, scraping any pieces from the bottom of the pan as you do so. Transfer the mix to a clean bowl and allow to cool
4.       Put the flours, salt and yeast in a large mixing bowl and rub the yeast in using your finger tips (but don’t let it get too close to the salt when you first put it in)
5.       Pour in the water and bring everything together as a dough, then turn out onto a work surface and work the dough until smooth and elastic (about 10 minutes). Near the end of the kneading process, spread the dough out and sprinkle the onion and bacon mix on top. Cover with the dough and then continue to knead to incorporate the mix. Return to the mixing bowl, cover and leave in a warm place to double in size (about 1 hour)
6.       Carefully turn the dough out onto a floured work surface and divide into 4 even pieces. Pull the edges of each dough piece into the centre, then turn the piece over and roll it with your hands (or hand, if you’re feeling flash) to form it into a tight bowl (this sort of involves an action that tucks the dough towards the seam and pulls the whole thing tight). Cover and leave the pieces to rest for 10 minutes, then repeat the rolling process. Cover and leave to double in size again (about 1 ¼ hours)
7.       Preheat the oven to 250°C (or as hot as your oven will go) and place a baking tray in to take the dough, and one at the bottom of the oven
8.       When the dough is ready, use a sharp knife to slash a circular line around the top of the dough (and no, they won’t look like mine, because I can’t follow instructions...), transfer to the preheated baking tray and place a mug full of water on the lower preheated baking tray. Turn the oven down to 220°C (425°F or gas mark 7) and bake for 5 minutes, then turn the oven down to 190°C (375°F or gas mark 5) and bake for a further 15 minutes until a tap on the bottom of the loaf results in a hollow sound. Allow to cool before slicing, but prepare for some massive and very satisfying flavours

References
Dough, Richard Bertinet, Kyle Books, 2005

Monday, 5 March 2012

Gluten-free bread

I had a scary moment a few weeks ago. For reasons that I won’t go into as I’d be at risk of overshare, I came to the conclusion that I might be gluten intolerant. Not something that I wanted to be true, what with being a bit of a bread addict, a pastry chef in training and someone who’s rather fond of pasta. But I was up for cutting it out for a little time to see if it would help at all.

Still, a little problem like no gluten wasn’t going to stop me making bread so I fished this gluten-free bread recipe of the internet, trusting to it being a good one because it’s the creation of Dan Lepard. Wheat flour is here replaced by cornflour and toasted golden linseeds are included for flavour and for a gum that helps with the crumb texture.

The recipe is detailed below but I’ll reserve this particular part of the blog for the more peculiar moments I encountered when trying to make it myself. The first step of toasting the linseeds was simple and the next bit of the recipe, combining the wet and the dry ingredients was familiar enough. But the first puzzling moment came with the texture the dough took with the ingredients combined. The recipe said it should come together as a “smooth batter”... mine was nothing like a batter and, despite the addition of extra water, stayed as a claggy mess. The ingredients seemed to absorbing the water as fast as I added it so I gave up and left it to sit for a while, as specified in the recipe. I then turned it out onto the worktop and attempted to knead it for 10 seconds to better combine the ingredients... again, claggy mess was mostly what I was left with. The recipe then specified to rest the dough for 30 minutes. My pet hate resurfacing in yet another recipe; a time limit rather than telling me what I’m looking for the dough to do. So, I simply followed the instructions and, after the 30 minutes, placed the dough on a baking tray and attempted to shape it into a sausage shape. Claggy dough meant a rather lumpy sausage. Another time limit was given but, worried that the yeast did actually need time and encouragement to do its thing, I put the dough above the oven while it preheated. After 30 minutes, the sausage looked more like a massive, oval burger but it still got brushed with olive oil and placed in the blisteringly hot oven.

The recipe said to remove the bread from the oven after 40 minutes when a “rich golden-brown in colour”. There weren’t any issues with it turning brown but the hissing noises coming from the loaf itself were a little worrying and tended to make me think it wasn’t done, so I poked it with a knife several times to check if it was still doughy in the middle, which it was, even after about 1 hour 20 minutes. And that was the stage at which I had to leave the house, so, still a little worried that the loaf wasn’t evening cooked, I turned it over and left it shut in the oven, which was turned off.

I returned a few hours later and retrieved the bread from the oven... finally. It was time to hack into it but I had to crack out the college bread knife because the crust was rather crisp. The bread itself was airy (apart from the pressure point from when I’d turned it over, which had got a bit squashed) but the stuff forming the bread... well, I’ve never seen opaque bread before. The taste wasn’t that bad and the linseeds had added quite a bit of flavour to something that was otherwise a bit bland, but the texture didn’t exactly win me over, not the fluffy, soft crumb of wheat bread but something a bit kind of... grisly.

Got to be honest; I ate a little of this but it then went out to the birds. They’re not sure about it either.

And luck has it that I don’t appear to have a gluten intolerance after all. Hurrah!

Simplified recipe

Ingredients
50g golden linseeds
475ml warm water
10g fresh yeast
100ml natural yoghurt
450g cornflour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon caster sugar
50g psyllium husk powder
50ml olive oil
Olive oil and cornflour to finish

Method
1.       Preheat the oven to 180°C (350°F or gas mark 4). Place the linseeds on a baking tray and bake for 10-15 minutes until golden (for flavour and to get the linseeds to release a gum when wet that helps with the crumb of the bread)
2.       Mix together the water and yeast and stir to dissolve the yeast. Add the yoghurt and the linseeds and mix again
3.       In a large mixing bowl, mix together the cornflour, salt, sugar and psyllium husk powder
4.       Add the water/yeast/seed/yoghurt mix and the olive oil and stir into “a smooth thin batter”. The mix will begin to firm up as the ingredients absorb the liquid so allow it sit for a few minutes
5.       When the mix is firm, turn onto a worktop and knead for about 10 seconds to combine the ingredients. Return to the bowl, cover and rest for 30 minutes
6.       Prepare a baking tray (grease, line or rely on a non-stick tray), transfer the dough to the tray and form it into a sausage shape. Brush the top with “olive oil, cover and leave to rise for 30 minutes”
7.       Preheat the oven to 240°C (465°F or gas mark 9)
8.       Slash the top of the dough (the step I always forget) and dust with cornflour. Bake for 40 minutes until golden brown, then leave to cool

References

Friday, 2 March 2012

Chocolate pizza

I had one dough left to do to finish my breads and doughs module at college; pizza dough. I told my tutor when I got in and, after a quick check of the fridge, she concluded that we didn’t have any savoury ingredients to go on top. But a bit of quick thinking on her part and there was a solution; chocolate pizza bases for sweet toppings.

It’s amazing that this took me all evening because the dough itself is incredibly simple... in fact, it felt a little like cheating. No yeast, because this was made with 880g self-raising flour ad 200g cocoa powder. The dry ingredients also included salt (have to say I was a bit heavy handed with that particular ingredient, so just be careful there), while the wet ingredients were a very technical measure of 150ml vegetable oil and an unspecified amount of water (enough to make it into a soft dough).

I rolled it out to about 4mm thick, then it was time for shaping. My tutor got her creative hat on again and came up with some squares with the edges cut and folded over so as to form a double-thickness crust (see picture). I did this with a fair amount of the dough before giving up and making a large circle, which got bordered with some plaited dough. I docked the bases and they all went into the oven at about 180°C.

Now, how to tell when a dough that’s already dark brown is done? Not quite as easy as with a paler dough but my tutor went through the things to look out for, which include a not-too-appetising-sounding feature where the dough goes greyish. We also turned them over to check the bases, which had more obvious darker patches still visible when not properly cooked. And the tapping technique was useful too.

Out of the oven and cooling, the next big question; what, out of all the pastry kitchen, was going to go on top of these pizzas? Actually, it was hampered slightly because my tutor had done these pizzas before and used marshmallows and toffee sauce... which we didn’t happen to have. I raided the mise-en-place fridge and pulled out some raspberry jam, strawberries and chocolate ganache, and then pilfered some white chocolate chips too. The smaller pizzas were topped with jam, a chocolate chip and a slice of strawberry, while I flooded the big pizza base with chocolate ganache (thinned slightly with cream) and finished it with a spiral of jam. My imagination cut out on me at that point, so that’s how they stayed.

The results of the evening may have been whacky but at least I got my breads and doughs module finished.

Simplified recipe

Ingredients
800g self-raising flour
200g cocoa powder
Pinch salt
150ml vegetable or olive oil
Water

Method
1.       Put the dry ingredients into the mixing bowl and add the oil, then add enough water to bring the mix together into a soft dough. Do make sure that the dough is soft, otherwise you’ll struggle with the next step
2.       Divide the dough up and roll out; the number of pieces depends on the size of the pizzas you want to make. Once rolled, shape as desired. You can use the pieces of trim to make borders, such as plaits
3.       Dock the bases (i.e. prick with a fork) and bake in the oven at about 180°C (350°F or gas mark 4). Time will depend on the size of the pizza base; to check (best done after 10 minutes), turn the bases over and check that the underside has no dark patches left. Also, tap to check for a hollow sound
4.       Allow to cool then decorate as desired. Make them as sickly as you like; the bases themselves aren’t sweet

Pita bread

Despite the fact that I did this bread at college, it took a little bit of experimentation. The first attempt certainly didn’t look like pita bread. Good job dough at college proves ridiculously fast.

Just written out the recipe below. It probably would’ve helped on the day had I actually followed the instructions.

The first attempt started as follows; 225g strong white bread flour and 1 teaspoon salt in one bowl, 15g fresh yeast, 140ml lukewarm water and 10ml of vegetable oil (the recipe specified extra virgin olive oil, but there wasn’t any to hand) in another bowl. The dry ingredients were gradually mixed into the wet and then the dough was turned out and worked until smooth and elastic. Back it went to a bowl and it was left to double in size (on top of the ovens at college. If you’ve seen my previous post, you’ll know that the tops of the ovens are rather warm and make the dough prove incredibly fast).

Dough doubled, I turned it out of the bowl, knocked it back and divided it into 2 pieces (yep, if you’ve already flicked to the recipe, you’ll know that that’s not quite right). Each bit was rolled out on top of a floured tea towel until about 3mm thick. I attempted the classic pita bread shape but I can’t say they were too neat. They went on a baking tray to prove until doubled in size, then got put (still on the same baking tray) into the oven... which I hadn’t properly preheated. Yeah, I’m not the only one who’s seeing the glaring reasons why this didn’t go right the first time.

So, the first attempts came out of the oven and they looked like flatbreads, or pizza bases, but not like pita breads. This was unduly worrying; there was still about 2 hours of the lesson left, plenty more time for a second attempt.

First change; my tutor suggested that I tried making a much wetter dough. This I did, but I was a bit more convinced that the thickness of the dough that went into the oven, the oven temperature and the lack of a preheated baking tray to create a bit of oven spring were the key problems. I rectified these by not leaving the dough to prove more quite as long after rolling it and actually getting myself in gear with a preheated oven and baking tray. And, hey presto! Pita breads were born.

Lessons learned; read the recipe, follow instructions and generally just think...

Simplified recipe

Ingredients
225g strong white bread flour
1 teaspoon salt
15g fresh yeast
140ml lukewarm water
10ml extra virgin olive oil

Method
1.       Sift together the flour and the salt
2.       Mix the yeast into the water in a large mixing bowl until dissolved, then add the olive oil
3.       Gradually add and incorporate the flour into the liquid until it comes together as a soft dough
4.       Turn the dough out onto a work surface and knead for 5 minutes until smooth and elastic. Place in a clean bowl, cover and leave to double in size
5.       Turn the dough out onto a work surface and knead gently to knock it back
6.       Divide the dough into 4 to 6 pieces and shape each piece into a ball. Cover and leave the rest for 5 minutes
7.       Roll out each piece of dough until 5mm thick. Cover and leave to rise for 20 to 30 minutes
8.       Place several baking trays in the oven and preheat the oven to 230°C (450°C or gas mark 8)
When they’re ready, slide your pita breads onto the preheated baking trays and bake for 4-6 minutes until puffed up but not coloured

Sunday, 26 February 2012

One dough, three breads: doughnuts, Devonshire splits and Chelsea buns

I’ve been doing lots of bread at college recently as part of my bread and dough unit. I’ve been feeling like I’ve been getting behind on my pastry course but my tutor got me ticking off a load of things in my Wednesday lesson. I started one dough; I finished with three breads.
The dough that I started with was simple enough. It started with 900g strong white bread flour, 50g milk powder, 75g caster sugar and 12g salt in a machine mixing bowl. Into this went 75g margarine, which I rubbed in (I had to stand on my tiptoes to do this... the worktop with the bowl on top is just a little too high for me). In a measuring jug, I measured out 620ml tepid water and added 50g fresh yeast (no spoon for stirring here; hand straight in the water). A beaten egg also went in with the water. With the mixing bowl on the machine with a dough hook, I started it off on a low speed and added the liquid. I started the kneading process in this way too. But I’m too used to working dough by hand, so I finished it off by turning it out and kneading it by hand. Once smooth and elastic, it went into another bowl, got covered with cling film and put on top of the pastry oven to double in size. The top of the pastry oven is actually a little too hot for dough and it has a sort-of fast forward effect... dough at college is normally doubled in size in about 25 minutes and can turn into a bit of a monster if left for an hour (and sometimes ended up with a slightly crusty, dried out bottom). But on the plus side, I didn’t have long to wait for the next step.
Or steps. Because this dough got cut into 3 pieces and each piece turned into a different product. Pretty fun, but it did turn the evening into a bit of a hectic one.
Doughnuts
Bread no. 1: doughnuts. I cut the dough into about 9 even pieces and rolled each piece into a ball. They went onto a greased baking tray, were covered with cling film and left to double in size.
Hop over to bread no. 2: Devonshite splits (aka cream buns). Again, this piece of dough got cut into even pieces, think I managed 8 this time, and formed into balls. The balls then got rolled into sausage shapes, placed on a greased baking tray, covered and left to double in size.
And finally, bread no. 3: Chelsea buns. This time, the piece of dough got rolled out into a rough rectangle. This was spread with melted butter and then liberally sprinkled with caster sugar, candied peel, currants and mixed spice. Time for some skill transference from my cakes and sponges unit because the dough needed rolling up, a bit like a swiss roll. The ends were neatened up before this roll was sliced into inch thick pieces. The pieces went on... you’ve guessed it, a greased baking tray... but these ones needed to go with a swirl facing up. The flapping end was tucked underneath, just for neatness. You’ve probably guessed the next step too... yes, they were covered with cling film and left to double in size.
This shaping took a fair amount of time and, what with the atmosphere in our pastry kitchen leading to super-fast proving, the doughnuts were about ready by the time I’d finished shaping the Chelsea buns.
So, time to turn bread no. 1 into doughnuts. Because, as they stood, the doughnuts and the Devonshire splits were essentially the same beast, just of a slightly different shape. We turned on the deep fat fryer and set it to 180°C. Each ball of dough was then carefully moved to a spider (no, not the things with great black furry legs; it’s a piece of kitchen equipment used for placing things in and removing them from deep fat fryers)... not quite carefully enough on my part, because each little dough pillow seemed to deflate slightly when I picked them up. Still, they got lowered into the oil and fried on each side until golden, and they re-inflated quite a bit during the cooking process. When they came out of the oil, they got dunked in a tray on caster sugar mixed with cinnamon. After cooling down, I made an incision in each one and rooted around inside to make a hole, then piped raspberry jam into the gap... although I got a bit too enthusiastic with some of them and the jam started oozing out again when I put them down. Still, the mess aside, bread no. 1 was done.
The cooking process for breads no. 2 and 3 were essentially the same. They went in a oven preheated to 220°C and, despite the fact that the recipe said they’d take 15-20 minutes, my tutor told me to check them after 5. She wasn’t kidding either; they coloured and cooked very quick, then came out and went on a cooling rack. The fingers needed to be completely cool before they were finished.
Devonshire splits
So, to finish bread no. 2. The fingers were “split” (well, sliced down the middle, but not all the way)... no Devonshire split without the split, so it was a necessary step. Once completely cool, I piped cream into the gap. Or, my tutor did 2 and then I attempted to copy her example, but I’m not sure I managed it with quite as much skill. Still, I at least got it in the gap. I piped a thin line of jam on top of the cream (cursing the raspberry pips every time they blocked up the hole in the bag) and, voila, bread no. 2 was done.
By the time I got onto finishing bread no. 3, the lesson was actually meant to be over and I was verymuch ready to go home. But my tutor pointed out that I couldn’t get ticked off on the Chelsea buns without doing the final bit so, with a sigh, I hung around to be shown how to glaze them. Apologises here for the instructions on this step below being a little vague, because it was more of a case of me being shown how to make the glaze rather than me doing it myself. It involved granulated sugar and water in a pan, with a similar consistency to wet sand, being heated until thickened and this sugar syrup clung to the pastry brush but still had a bit of a dropping consistency. This was simply brushed over the Chelsea buns. The odd bit made it onto my fingers... so my sighs at finishing the lesson later were then accompanied by curses at my burning fingers. Finally, bread no. 3 was also complete. But, in my rush, I forgot to take a picture. Rather annoyed about that now.
The lesson may have overrun a little, but at least I’d had a productive night. 3 breads down for my unit. Unfortunately, I don’t actually know how many more I’ve still got to do...
Simplified recipe
Ingredients
900g strong white bread flour
50g milk powder
75g caster sugar
12g salt
75g margarine
1 egg, beaten
50g fresh yeast
620ml tepid water
Method
1.       Put the flour, milk powder, caster sugar and salt in a large mixing bowl
2.       Rub the margarine into the dry ingredients
3.       Put the yeast in the tepid water and mix until dissolved. Then add the beaten egg
4.       Combine the wet and dry ingredients. If using a machine, mix it with a dough hook on a low speed for about 5 minutes. If doing it by hand, knead for about 10 minutes. You want a smooth and elastic dough (so, the normal really...)
5.       Put the dough in a mixing bowl, cover and leave in a warm place to double in size
For doughnuts
1.       Turn the dough out onto a worktop and divide into pieces of even size (the full quantity specific above will make between 24 and 30 doughnuts... you might want to scale the recipe down a little)
2.       Shape each piece of dough into a ball
3.       Place on a lightly greased baking tray, cover and leave to double in size
4.       Heat oil for deep fat frying (... carefully, as always) to 180°C
5.       Once the dough balls have proved, gently place them in the oil. Cook on one side until golden, then flip over and repeat
6.       To finish, coat in caster sugar; we added some cinnamon to the sugar for a bit of spice. Or coat one side in icing. Or use a knife to create a cavity in the doughnut, then pipe jam into the cavity
For Chelsea buns
Extra ingredients
Melted butter
Caster sugar
Mixed candied peel
Sultanas and/or currants
Mixed spice
Granulated sugar and water
Method
1.       Turn the dough out onto a floured worktop and, using a rolling pin, rolling out to a rough rectangle shape
2.       Gently brush the dough with melted butter, then sprinkle with the caster sugar, mixed peel, sultanas and/or currants and mixed spice
3.       Roll the rectangle up, like you would a swiss roll. Try to keep the roll quite tight
4.       Cut off the scruffy ends and then make 1 inch slices
5.       Place on a greased baking tray, swirl side up and tuck the flapping end under the main bit. Cover and leave to prove
6.       Bake in a preheated oven at 220°C. Check after 5 minutes because these things colour and cook incredibly fast
7.       Put the granulated sugar in a pan and add enough water to much a sludgy mix. Place on a high heat and boil until the mix becomes thick but still drops off a pastry brush. Use this to glaze the buns to finish
For Devonshire splits
Extra ingredients
Whipped cream
Jam
Method
1.       Turn the dough out onto a worktop and divide into even pieces (as with the doughnuts, this recipe will make between 24 and 30, so you may want to scale it down)
2.       Shape the pieces of dough into balls and then roll out slightly into sausages shapes. Place onto a greased baking tray, cover and leave to double in size
3.       Bake in a preheated oven at 220°C. Like the Chelsea buns, check after 5 minutes. They colour and cook very quickly
4.       Allow to cool completely, then make a slice down the middle (but don’t cut through completely). Pipe the whipped cream into the gap and then finish with a stripe of jam

Saturday, 25 February 2012

Soda bread

Soda bread... in this case, also known as “the bread that would not cook”. This bread should be an easy one. But it’s been giving me a little bit of jip.

So, why should this be an easy one? Well, this bread is fairly well known as being leavened without yeast, so there’s no long process of watching it double in size, knocking it back and then letting it prove. You throw the ingredients together, you get them evenly mixed, you shape them and then you throw them in the oven. This was done at college too, under tutor supervision, so you would have thought that it should have gone right. My tutors were actually getting a tad frustrated too...

The bread as done with our college recipe starts with 2kg plain white flour, 4 teaspoons bicarbonate of soda, 4 teaspoons cream of tartar and 4 teaspoons salt, all chucked in one of our large machine mixing bowls. Not the way I’ve got used to doing things at home. I’m more accustomed to mixing dough with my hands and, it seems, the gimmicks are true; you get a much better understanding of your dough and how it behaves by handling it... well, by hand. Anyway, to the dry ingredients I added 600ml whole milk and 600ml double cream. I then got told by my tutor that the recipe didn’t specify enough liquid. *deadpan face* So I threw in an unspecified amount of extra milk and cream and let the dough mix, using a dough hook on a low speed, until it came together as a soft dough and any claggy bits were mixed out.

Time to unceremoniously plonk the dough out onto a worktop and follow my tutor round like a lost sheep to ask her what needed doing next (not that I don’t know what to do with bread dough; I just needed to make sure I was doing it college’s way). I managed to grab her attention and she told me to cut it into 4. We turned 2 of the pieces into herby soda bread by kneading dried mixed herbs into the dough. This being college, the pieces of dough were shaped in several ways to get practice in a few different shaping techniques. I did a traditional soda bread shaping; the dough was formed into a circle, into which I cut a large cross. One of the other pieces of dough became a stick; I pushed it into a rectangle shape, folded one third over the middle third, then the final third over this. I again flattened it out a bit, then folded it in half; all of this folding was to create a “spine” to reinforce the stick and control the way it rises in the oven. It then got a bit of rolling to create a thinner stick shape and 3 slashes across the top. The last 2 got shaped into plaits; the dough was formed into a sausage shape, cut into 3 but with the top still whole, and then plaited. All 4 went in the oven at 180°C.

Another deadpan face moment. All that the recipe said as to timings was that the timing varied according to the size of the loaf. So I gave them 20 minutes. They were nicely coloured but the bottom-tap test wasn’t positive on all of them (my tutor gave me the additional tip of saying that it could be checked like a cake, by inserting a sharp knife or skewer and checking for dough or stickiness on the end). But even when it did sound hollow... I did some a few days later and the bread was for service, so actually needed to be ready that morning. The bottom-tap test on said bread suggested that it was ready, and my tutor agreed. But no; when it was cut into, the middle was still raw. My tutor managed to salvage one loaf by putting it back in the oven, but even then it took ages and we had to take cross-sections of the bread each time to check how done it was.

Anyone got any soda bread tips? Is this just a bit of a duff recipe or are there special ways of telling how it’s done? Because continually producing raw bread with a recipe that’s supposed to be easy is beginning to get on my nerves.