In the three weeks since the compulsory lockdown, an inordinate amount of time has been spent in our small (umm...tiny) kitchen cooking and baking. Regee has been at the forefront of all this culinary activity but I have also been cooking and baking and trying to make myself somewhat useful in my sous-chef and dishwasher role. (They also serve who only stand and wait)?
I have to say that I have developed a lot of loaf envy recently. Regee has been turning out unbelievable loaves of bread, especially her favorite No-Knead Bread which you can see on the left. It is based upon a recipe from the Jenny Can Cook website and Regee had typed it out for her collection.
I couldn't stand it any more. So, I decided this morning to give it a try myself. I had the typed recipe and it looked quite simple. I was in a bit of a hurry because we were going to ZOOM with Regee's family at 10AM and I wanted to get the dough ready before that.
So, I quickly threw 3 cups of bread flour into a big bowl, added 1/4 teaspoon of yeast, 1 teaspoon of salt and stirred in 1.5 cups of hot water at 125F. What could be simpler? Five minutes work. Done.
I covered the dough with a towel and put it on the kitchen counter to stand for three hours at room temperature. So far so good. I could almost see that big fat Boule sitting on the bread board waiting to be sliced.
During the ZOOM session I snuck a look at the dough and it was NOT rising. If anything, it was deflating. What was going on? I mentioned this to Regee and she said it needed to be covered with Saran wrap, not a towel. Aha. That was the problem. I quickly removed the towel and lovingly covered it with the plastic stuff. It had only been half an hour so there was still 2.5 hours for it to reach that beautiful size in the photo.
After the ZOOM session of almost two hours, I had another look. Horror! It was exactly the same size as before. They say size doesn't matter but it damn well does when it comes to loaves. This looked more like a wayward pandesal or Polish paczki (doughnut). I didn't mention it to Regee this time but furtively looked at the recipe. I was sure I had done everything the first step of the recipe had required.
And then I saw something I had missed in my rush to get the dough going. Immediately after the instruction "3 cups of All-purpose or Bread Flour" I saw some ominous words in brackets and in bold letters: (aerate flour before measuring--check Jenny's blog).
Oh no, bloody details. I hate details. That's why I was such an awful lawyer--I couldn't take the fine print. And now I had a sneaking feeling that I was really going to hate these BOLD LETTERS. And what on earth was aeration of flour? Chucking it up in the air or something? I had done one better. I had sifted it. They always tell you to sift flour before baking. That was definitely putting more air in it and all around it. I had never heard of aerating flour. Who was this Jenny Can Cook person anyway, and what was her website all about??
An aside. What does it say on paint cans, immediately after a whole pile of technical jargon about heat and viscosity and freezing temperatures and porousness of surfaces and other useless stuff?
IF ALL ELSE FAILS, PLEASE READ THESE INSTRUCTIONS.
Man, I was getting really pissed off now. So, I have to read some random blog when I am still on the very first line of the freekin' recipe?
With some reluctance, and still hiding away from Regee, I went to my computer and typed in the website mentioned in the recipe. This is what I found--with bullet points before each maddening statement.
I couldn't stand it any more. So, I decided this morning to give it a try myself. I had the typed recipe and it looked quite simple. I was in a bit of a hurry because we were going to ZOOM with Regee's family at 10AM and I wanted to get the dough ready before that.
So, I quickly threw 3 cups of bread flour into a big bowl, added 1/4 teaspoon of yeast, 1 teaspoon of salt and stirred in 1.5 cups of hot water at 125F. What could be simpler? Five minutes work. Done.
I covered the dough with a towel and put it on the kitchen counter to stand for three hours at room temperature. So far so good. I could almost see that big fat Boule sitting on the bread board waiting to be sliced.
After the ZOOM session of almost two hours, I had another look. Horror! It was exactly the same size as before. They say size doesn't matter but it damn well does when it comes to loaves. This looked more like a wayward pandesal or Polish paczki (doughnut). I didn't mention it to Regee this time but furtively looked at the recipe. I was sure I had done everything the first step of the recipe had required.
And then I saw something I had missed in my rush to get the dough going. Immediately after the instruction "3 cups of All-purpose or Bread Flour" I saw some ominous words in brackets and in bold letters: (aerate flour before measuring--check Jenny's blog).
Oh no, bloody details. I hate details. That's why I was such an awful lawyer--I couldn't take the fine print. And now I had a sneaking feeling that I was really going to hate these BOLD LETTERS. And what on earth was aeration of flour? Chucking it up in the air or something? I had done one better. I had sifted it. They always tell you to sift flour before baking. That was definitely putting more air in it and all around it. I had never heard of aerating flour. Who was this Jenny Can Cook person anyway, and what was her website all about??
IF ALL ELSE FAILS, PLEASE READ THESE INSTRUCTIONS.
Man, I was getting really pissed off now. So, I have to read some random blog when I am still on the very first line of the freekin' recipe?
With some reluctance, and still hiding away from Regee, I went to my computer and typed in the website mentioned in the recipe. This is what I found--with bullet points before each maddening statement.
- Always aerate your flour before measuring.
- If you don't aerate your flour, your dough will be too dry.
- Aerating is NOT the same as sifting.
- Do not sift your flour unless the recipe indicates.
https://www.jennycancook.com/how-to-aerate-flour/
What the....? So, just by missing a warning in bold letters at the very beginning of the recipe before I had even got going, I was going to be penalized? My dough was going to be too dry and it was not going to rise? I had another look. That dough was looking smaller than the last time I had looked.
What to do? This sucker needed something more than room temperature. It needed a bit of HEAT. I remembered that the oven had been on earlier in the morning. I opened the door and there was still some residual warmth--not heat exactly.
I also had to think about that Saran wrap. I didn't want a shrunken loaf covered in tight melted Saran wrap. I knew this was against the rules, common sense and probably the fire code but into the oven that bowl of dough went, Saran wrap and all. I kept a close eye on it and after about 10 minutes of gazing through the glass oven door (like they do on the "Great British Baking Show"), I detected a slight rise. Yes, that warmth was definitely exciting the yeast. I was even thinking of putting a drop of water in there to cure the "dry" dough but thought better of it. I was in enough trouble as it was.
After the full three hours, I took it out and the dough had risen a bit but was still nothing like the loaf was supposed to look like in terms of size. I took it to Regee and she said: "It's not rising." I didn't have the heart to tell her about the lack of aeration and the two hours I had just spent making sure the Saran wrap didn't melt or go up in flames. I would be demoted and sent back to bathroom cleaning and bed making.
What the hell, I thought, I will plow on. Next step, turn out the dough onto a floured surface and proceed to fold it 10-12 times and then shape into a rough ball. "Rough" was the operative word by the time I got through with that lump of stupid dough. Now I had to place it in a parchment-lined bowl and cover with a towel and let it stand again for 30 minutes. So that's where the towel had come in. I knew there was a towel somewhere in this process!
While the dough was sitting around (bakers call it "proofing") for 30 minutes, I had to put an oven-proof Dutch oven into the big oven (so confusing) and then get the big oven up to 450F. That actually took 35 minutes but who's counting? Then I had to transfer the dough from the bowl into the Dutch oven, lifting it up in the parchment paper, and placing it carefully into what was now a red hot Dutch oven. Are you still with me? Try getting hold of thin parchment paper with two big oven mittens and a blast of hot air hitting you in face at 450F when you open the big oven door. But I got it in.
Now I just had to sit down and wait for yet another 30 minutes.for it to bake. My Lord, this recipe needs the patience of Job. There's a lot of sitting around but I consoled myself by remembering that there was absolutely nowhere to go. We were in LOCKDOWN!
At that freaky 450F temperature, I thought my small lump of dough might just shrivel up and come out looking more like a small baguette than a Big Boule. (What a lovely word that is--sort of like the Big Lebowski). I was reflecting on this when Regee called out: "Don't forget the oven is 30F below what is says on the dial." What? Now the wretched thing is going to be small AND undercooked? Not much I can do at this stage--except, perhaps, leave it in for about 40 minutes rather than 30 minutes? Good grief, I had been at this for about four hours at this stage. I could have baked four dozen scones instead in that time.
I waited and waited. I finally took out the loaf and, gloria in excelsis, as my grandmother used to say when something went right against all expectations, there was a reasonably sized No-Knead Boule!
I nearly broke down in tears and promised the patron saint of dough (St. Aerate) that I would never doubt my dough again. It was truly a Trumpian miracle. Heat worked. There was no knead to worry after all. But I do knead to read the recipe more carefully in the future.
It might not be quite the right size or a real Big Lebowski but at 1.57 lbs. it was a healthy weight at least. And what did it look like inside? You be the judge.
Regee and I toasted the bread and slathered it with salty Kerrygold Butter. It was still warm from the oven and after all the angst and problems, it tasted pretty good to me. Regee agreed. Phew. I get to keep my job and somebody else will have to take care of the bathroom cleaning and bed making.
One last thing. I looked more closely at the Jenny Can Cook website. Her name is Jenny Jones, from London, Ontario. If you have a moment, read this brief account of her life and cooking. Maybe I should have heard of her but it is always nice to find out things that you don't know. Jenny Jones. I will now associate her with AERATION for ever more!
What to do? This sucker needed something more than room temperature. It needed a bit of HEAT. I remembered that the oven had been on earlier in the morning. I opened the door and there was still some residual warmth--not heat exactly.
I also had to think about that Saran wrap. I didn't want a shrunken loaf covered in tight melted Saran wrap. I knew this was against the rules, common sense and probably the fire code but into the oven that bowl of dough went, Saran wrap and all. I kept a close eye on it and after about 10 minutes of gazing through the glass oven door (like they do on the "Great British Baking Show"), I detected a slight rise. Yes, that warmth was definitely exciting the yeast. I was even thinking of putting a drop of water in there to cure the "dry" dough but thought better of it. I was in enough trouble as it was.
After the full three hours, I took it out and the dough had risen a bit but was still nothing like the loaf was supposed to look like in terms of size. I took it to Regee and she said: "It's not rising." I didn't have the heart to tell her about the lack of aeration and the two hours I had just spent making sure the Saran wrap didn't melt or go up in flames. I would be demoted and sent back to bathroom cleaning and bed making.
While the dough was sitting around (bakers call it "proofing") for 30 minutes, I had to put an oven-proof Dutch oven into the big oven (so confusing) and then get the big oven up to 450F. That actually took 35 minutes but who's counting? Then I had to transfer the dough from the bowl into the Dutch oven, lifting it up in the parchment paper, and placing it carefully into what was now a red hot Dutch oven. Are you still with me? Try getting hold of thin parchment paper with two big oven mittens and a blast of hot air hitting you in face at 450F when you open the big oven door. But I got it in.
Now I just had to sit down and wait for yet another 30 minutes.for it to bake. My Lord, this recipe needs the patience of Job. There's a lot of sitting around but I consoled myself by remembering that there was absolutely nowhere to go. We were in LOCKDOWN!
At that freaky 450F temperature, I thought my small lump of dough might just shrivel up and come out looking more like a small baguette than a Big Boule. (What a lovely word that is--sort of like the Big Lebowski). I was reflecting on this when Regee called out: "Don't forget the oven is 30F below what is says on the dial." What? Now the wretched thing is going to be small AND undercooked? Not much I can do at this stage--except, perhaps, leave it in for about 40 minutes rather than 30 minutes? Good grief, I had been at this for about four hours at this stage. I could have baked four dozen scones instead in that time.
I waited and waited. I finally took out the loaf and, gloria in excelsis, as my grandmother used to say when something went right against all expectations, there was a reasonably sized No-Knead Boule!
I nearly broke down in tears and promised the patron saint of dough (St. Aerate) that I would never doubt my dough again. It was truly a Trumpian miracle. Heat worked. There was no knead to worry after all. But I do knead to read the recipe more carefully in the future.
Regee and I toasted the bread and slathered it with salty Kerrygold Butter. It was still warm from the oven and after all the angst and problems, it tasted pretty good to me. Regee agreed. Phew. I get to keep my job and somebody else will have to take care of the bathroom cleaning and bed making.
One last thing. I looked more closely at the Jenny Can Cook website. Her name is Jenny Jones, from London, Ontario. If you have a moment, read this brief account of her life and cooking. Maybe I should have heard of her but it is always nice to find out things that you don't know. Jenny Jones. I will now associate her with AERATION for ever more!
If only i was disciplined enough and focused enough to read each one of these blogs. This was so humorous and clever and such a breath of fresh aeration. Bravo!
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