homemade artisan bread


Dig it, Daddy-o, because it IS artisan. That right there is ARTS!

And for a regular bloke. Who does this, just because they want some bread? Huh? 

Tons of people, turns out, but I don't know any. I am the only one I know. 


Imagine the loneliness and isolation.


Knowing lots of people and knowing my kind is out there but not knowing any.



It's hard being a pillar of strength and individuality amid such powerful and cogent and compelling forces to conformity.





But we soldier on.



I could not pick this up to transport it to the searing hot clay cloche. This is dangerous, I'm a natural born klutz, and this blob is impossible. A lot of its aeration is lost to mishandling. Finally, I rolled it onto the edge of a cookie tray with a flat edge, and that worked beautifully to tip it into the cloche with perfect alignment, perfect transfer with the side upward that I wanted. 

Were my knife sharpened I'd have a nice clean cut but it needs to be like a razor. As it is the bread burst through my perforations. 




Three bread tricks.

* Exceedingly wet dough. 100% hydration. That means, by weight, equal parts flour and water. By the scoop, 1+1/2 cup cold water, 3 lightly scooped cups flour. There you go, 100% hydration by weight. Very wet indeed.

* Exceedingly slow fermentation, overnight, started with scant 1/4 teaspoon active dry yeast and full dose of retarding salt and cold water. Careless mixing. No kneading. You'll be amazed how quickly it grows and fills the bowl anyway.

* Exceedingly hot oven. High as it will go. With some kind of cloche, the materials available are broad. Cast iron pot with a lid will do. Enamelware casserole works very well. 

1 comment:

Rob said...

Was gonna say "cloche but no cigar," but it's not only a win, it's a nice cigar--a big fat robusto, I reckon.

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