The curtain rises. Our surly hero, an unnamed fisherman, is returning home from a hard day's work. All he can think of is his desire for dinner. Anything would be fine, really. Anything, that is, except for more cornmeal and molasses. You see, our hero's wife, Anna, was a lousy homemaker. It's not that she didn't try, it's just that all she knew how to serve was cornmeal sweetened with molasses.
Arriving home and seeing a big pot of cornmeal on the table with some molasses, our hero flies into a rage, grabbing flour and yeast, throwing it all into the pot with the molasses, and baking the resulting mass. After throwing the future bread into the oven, he mutters under his breath, "Anna... damn her!" The lights fade. The curtain falls.
This local legend develops the framework of my second bread of this past weekend, anadama bread. Although the tale cannot be confirmed either true or false, it provides a reasonable framework for the development of a bread that I have taken quite a shine to. Naturally, an early twentieth century Martha Stewart wannabe determined that such a foul name would besmirch the reputation of the genteel folks in New England, so the name was refined and a local delicacy was born.
The bread starts simply enough, with some cornmeal and water.
These are combined in a bowl to create a 'soaker'. This is a term for something that is left to sit overnight that does not contain yeast. As a result there is little to no fermentation occurring, but, instead, the grains are softened to better facilitate the remaining baking process. I left my soaker by the knife rack in case anyone got any smart ideas.
The next step didn't contain any major surprises, either. The soaker was combined with water, flour and yeast to form a nice goopy mess.
The sponge was then left to sit for about an hour until it began to bubble. This was slightly creepy, but interesting to watch.
If you look carefully, you can see the bubbles on the surface of the sponge. Adding more flour, salt, molasses and butter provided quite interesting, as a majority of the additional volume of the sponge was comprise of air, causing the mixer to turn the bowl into a minefield of exploding flour as the air escaped.
Due to the cornmeal, the resulting mixture really felt and looked a bit like oatmeal cookie dough. Reinhart seems kinda picky, as he had me knead the dough until it hit a certain temperature, but as soon as the dough seemed done, it turned out to be at the requisite temperature.
At this point, I covered the dough and left it to rise. It turned out to be a little cold for a timely raising, so I moved it into the over with the loaves of brioche and the hot water.
Shortly thereafter, I had a giant blob of dough, just waiting to become whatever I could dream of! Since our loaf pans were currently full of brioche, I decided to be a little more creative with this dough.
I ended up making five kaiser rolls, two batards, and two split rolls. Unfortunately, I didn't put enough flour in the crack on the split rolls or did something else wrong, because the split ended up baking out. I then let the dough proof until the brioche was out of the oven and immediately baked it.
And, voila! Beautiful rolls and other bun-like objects. I really have enjoyed this bread so far. It has a nice flavor like a very flavorful wheat bread and is just heavy enough to have a substantial presence. I know I'll enjoy it when I have it as a sandwich, but I've been too busy eating away at the buns so far to put anything on them!
I'm not sure what the next bread will be yet. I'm taking the book to work and having a co-worker pick one for me. Going from the first recipe to the last seems a little bizarre, as a number of the recipes in the book are specifically celebration breads that would be a little out of place at the moment. So don't hold your breaths in suspense, as it will be a long wait until next Sunday to find out what I choose!
Anadama bread? Check.
No comments:
Post a Comment