For many years, I followed Laurel’s Kitchen to make bread. I loved most of her recipes and her ethic of wholesome, healthy food. But her methods for bread stumped me. I kneaded and kneaded and kneaded some more and still ended up with bread that never rose well, tasted like cardboard – that is when I could get my teeth into it. I usually threw the loaves out. I figured I just had to knead more, so months later I’d try again and knead even more and still end up with rock-hard, tasteless loaves. Believing I required more detailed instruction, I invested in Laurel’s Kitchen Breadbook but ended up with the same disappointments.
Mini sourdough baguettes
I gave it up for many years, and it’s a wonder I wanted to return to breadmaking at all. But failure can sometimes lead to stubborn determination. Last winter, I decided to try again but this time sought a new method. I had heard that less kneading – not more – created some of the finest artisan breads; it seemed too good to be true. I read reviews and perused Powell’s cookbook shelves (a great place for frittering away the hours). I admit lush photographs of grain fields, boules, and batards seduced me into handing over a lot of cash. But think of all the money I’ll save on bread, I reasoned.
I’ve found Peter Reinhart’s books easiest to follow with clear directions and photographs. I especially like his Whole Grain Breads. The trick is starting the fermentations and soakers the night before and letting time do the hard work. The result: minimal kneading, good rises, and tasty bread even with 100% whole grains. Over a period of baking several times a week last year, I did spend less money on bread and probably on restaurants too, since fresh-baked bread calls for homemade soups, roasts, and salads.
The wild yeast I started last week performed well in my first bread of the new year. I used just enough to give a sourdough tang to my whole wheat/white baquette and then supplemented with commercial yeast. When I get back into my rhythm and can devote a whole day to the slow rise of wild yeast, I’ll let them do all the work. We like the mini-baquettes that maximize crisp crust and have just enough but not too much chewy goodness inside. Dipped in chicken chipotle soup and washed down with red wine: what could be better on a windy Oregon night?
