I Is For Irish Soda Bread

I have a large head.  No, that's not a metaphor.  I really mean it, my head is large.  Not Elephant-Man-large, but on the larger end of the cranium circumference continuum.  Bigger head = bigger brain?  I'd like to think so, but buy into that twist of neuroanatomic reality and pretty soon you are sliding down the slippery slope toward phrenology.  A big head means that buying hats can be difficult, as can finding wigs that fit comfortably...for Halloween.  I blame attribute my sizable skull to my Irish heritage.  I read (or heard) somewhere that the Irish are known for their large heads.  I suppose it could be some odd early 20th-century form of racial profiling, or maybe it's just something I heard on the old Rosie O'Donnel show and it somehow stuck in this large head of mine.  Whatever its genesis, I do have a large head and I do hail from Irish stock...or so goes the story.  Supposedly there was some scandelous hanky-panky a few generations ago in the Catskill Mountains, thus introducing genes from the Emerald Isle into the Finch family DNA.  Without going into juicy details, that's the family scuttlebutt. 

But I have reason to question family lore, particularly when it comes to ancestral heritage.  An oft-told, but suspiciously abbreviated, tale from my childhood included a pair of Norwegian brothers who came over on the boat and settled in upstate New York to make their fame and/or fortune, reproduce heartily and, fastforward, here I am...large head and all.  Plausible.  So I went with it...proud of my Norwegian background I chose the language of my forefathers as my foreign language in college (3 semesters worth), read Norwegian folktales, and tried to insert "Uff da" into my daily lexicon.  I was getting there...at the height of my Norwegian-ness I was even dreaming in the language of my stoic Nordic ancestors. 

Then this noble Viking house-of-cards folded with one quick Germanic puff of wind.  My sister met a stranger who shared our Norwegian surname.  An avid family arborist, this genetically-linked stranger had done her homework.  Within minutes she had erased the Norwegian brothers from our past, replacing them with German(!) brothers, one who settled in hardscrabble upstate New York, the other continuing his journey across the plains and mountains and settling in California, the land of plenty.  This mysterious German stranger had facts, names, and dates...the pitiful Norwegians didn't stand a chance.  I traded dreams of hiking the geothermal hills of Iceland (a Norwegian version of a spa treatment, I suppose) for a trip to the motherland to drink gallons of beer.  Uff da, indeed!

No bagpipe-bleating stranger has yet to wander in from the fog to weave a plaid-ridden tale of kilt-wearing Scottish barbarianism which could dissuade me of my Irishness.  I am (part) Irish; I have proof - just measure my head!  So, for the time-being, I offer this oven-bourne tradition from my maternal homeland, an authentic Irish Soda Bread. 

 

The fresh-off-the-plane Irishmen who taught me this recipe were quick to point out that Ireland does not have a history filled with wealth and riches.  Soda Bread was peasantfare, and a quick study of the traditional ingredients is a lesson in poverty/wealth and nutrition.  Refined white flour was saved for the upperclasses, the peasants were left with wholegrain flours.  Filler was needed, so a handful of whole, cracked grain makes the bread go that much farther.  Butter was a product to be sold, not to be eaten by a dairyman's family, so very little fat is included in this recipe.  And what is buttermilk but a byproduct from buttermaking...using whole milk or, god forbid, cream in a bread recipe would be like taking money and eating it.  Fruit or spices?...forget it, they were luxuries  saved for celebrations, not for this basic, daily bread.  Of course, knowing what we now know about health and nutrition, we realize that if the Irish peasantclass hadn't been starving, they would have been very healthy. 

Irish Soda Bread

Yield:  2 loaves

(Pardon the odd measurements, this is scaled down from a much larger batch)

AP Flour..........................8.2 oz

Whole Wheat Pastry Flour.....9.5 oz

Oats/Rolled Spelt...............1.4 oz

Whole Wheat Flour.............4 oz

Salt................................0.3 oz

Baking Soda......................0.5 oz

Sugar..............................0.5 oz

Butter.............................2 oz

Buttermilk........................20.5 oz

1.  Mix all the dry ingredients.  Cut the butter into the dry until well incorporated.

2.  Add the buttermilk and beat thoroughly.

3.  Dust work surface with whole wheat flour, and turn the dough out onto it.  Divide the dough in half, form rounds, place on parchment/Silpat lined baking sheet.  Dust tops lightly with whole wheat flour.  Let rest 20 minutes.

4.  Preheat oven to 500.  Place the loaves in the oven and immediately lower temperature to 480.  Bake 30-35 minutes.

 

F is for Fondant...G is for Ganache...H is for a Henna-Inspired Cake

F had me stuck.  Since Christmas (and my last blog posting) I have made a couple of Fougasse but was uninspired to write about either one.  I tried a Foccacia topped with tomatoes and onions, and it was good...but also an awful lot like just a thick-crust, bready pizza...and, again, it did not elicit the muse.  We had an absolutely wonderful (and 30 year overdue) weekend visit with some old Friends...truly the highlight of 2010 thus far...fun but no F-based baking to write about.

But then Sri got pregnant and, yes, I was called upon to make yet another baby shower cake.  And I'm happy to do it...as much as I this-and-that about making fancy cakes for pregnant women, it does require me to tap into a different creative source than does making wheat bread, coming up with a good one-liner, or writing a (hopefully) entertaining blog...and that's a good thing.  Plus, and this crashed into my head from who-knows-where, I was thinking about babies and being a parent the other day.  (A little backstory...the road to parenthood once consumed a considerable amount of our time, energy, and emotional ugh...ending in a houseful of broken hearts, heavy sighs and regret that continue to this day.)  Anyhoo, I was driving home from Safeway, having finally located some white chocolate for Sri's cake, when I heard a song on the radio by a fellow named Colin...brain wheels start spinning and whirring and I think to myself, "If we had a baby I would want to name him Colin"...soon followed by a "hmmm" and the question, "Are we too old to be parents?"...a few mental math problems later I come to the conclusion that, yes, we really are too old to be new parents, but the thought stuck with me for a mile or so.  By then I had come to the red light at Camino Verde, was almost home, and my thoughts returned to Sri's cake. 

Sheesh...what am I, a junior-high school girl?  Well, in many ways, yes, I do share more than one trait with middle school girls...but really, who, besides Ellen-The-Eighth-Grader, starts thinking about being a parent because the folk singer on the radio had a name that you like.  And who, other than me, dismisses the idea (the life-altering, DNA-continuing idea) a mile down the road...I would guess, based on my circle of friends and associates, that the answer to that question is probably..."lots of people."  In fact, the majority of our friends have chosen to live a childless life.  Of course, for us, it really wasn't our choice - it was more just our fact.  So now we are in our mid to late 40's, and it's kinda too late...which, on the first reading, sounds pathetic and sad, but it really isn't.  I think that we are probably much better at raising dogs, tortoises, and chickens than we would be at raising something whose brain was a little more bumpy...like a child.  Because even though the name Colin is a responsible name for a baby, probably next time I get the parenting urge, I will have reason to think that Velvet or Saigon are good names for babies. 

So I will watch TV tonight with 3 dogs snuggled up close to me, completly happy with Merceredes' growls, and Mayor's warmth, and Miss Imogen's deep breathing in my ear...and I will be content and proud that I can bring a sweet girly cake to work tomorrow for Sri's baby-shower.  Congratulations, Sri!

Cake Facts...The bottom tier is a chocolate cake with espresso buttercream and whipped dark chocolate ganache.  The top tier is a Meyer lemon genoise, with apricot buttercream and a white chocolate sour cream ganache.  (There are a few cracks in the fondant, mostly along the edge, but I'm getting better at working with the crazy stuff.  Oh, and these pictures show the toothpicks that are holding up the little pink leaves on the top...hopefully they can be removed tomorrow before the baby shower.)

E is for English Muffins

A couple of friends received little Christmas gift bags filled with english muffins.  It was a spontaneous gift, or kinda spontaneous...meaning, I didn't sit down and write out a gift list in August and next to Lisa's name write english muffins, but rather I had some freshly baked english muffins on the counter, I was heading to work on Christmas Eve, thought of Lisa, etc...of course, spontaneous can be a multi-step process.  F'rinstance, before giving them I asked Nik (as I oft do), "Is that too wierd?"  Nik obligingly answers, "She'll be glad to get them."  But it was just a little before 6:00 in the morning and I had to wake him up to ask him and he probably would have said anything to get me to turn off the light and let him go back to sleep.  So, not quite satisfied with his first opinion, I actually toasted up one of the english muffins, spread it lovingly (and generously) with butter and raspberry jam, woke him up again and said "Taste this...is it okay?"  Because he is Nik, he opened his eyes, said "mmmm" even before taking a bite, chewed thoughtfully and said, "Yes, it's good."  It was early (still dark out, in fact), they aren't really pretty english muffins, and they did taste (I thought) a little malty (not a flavor some people might enjoy in the morning), so I pressed further and asked, "Really?  Is it okay?"  His eyes were closed again by this time, he was starting to roll over (away from me), and I think I heard him say, "mm hmmm."  Convinced, or at least more confident, that english muffins were an okay gift item, I went to work and delivered them to Lisa C....along with caveats and instructions and after-thoughts. 

The next morning, Christmas morning, I again toasted up an english muffin.  Wearing red and green flannel and my old man slippers, sipping a cup of hot coffee, sitting in front of the twinkling Christmas tree just as the sun was coming up, surrounded by 3 of 4 dogs, a little sleepy and a little excited because it was Christmas...english muffins seemed at that moment like the perfect food/gift.  Not too malty at all, temptingly crunchy and chewy at the same time, lots of nooks and crannies (which seem to be the hallmark of a good english muffin) for butter and jam, and (were it not for the butter) fairly healthy given that they are made with several whole grains.  These english muffins weren't just comfort food...they were cozy food.  Deep breath, take another sip of coffee, close your eyes, smile...a cozy start to a really nice Christmas day.

English Muffins
(adapted from Breads from La Brea Bakery, by Nancy Silverton)
Yield:  approx 17-20
SPONGE
Liquid Levain (sourdough starter).................18 oz
Skim Milk.............................................2 cups
Bread Flour...........................................8 oz
Rye Flour.............................................3 1/2 oz
1.  Mix the Sponge ingredients thoroughly in stand mixer bowl.  Cover with plastic wrap and let it ferment at room temperature for 2 hours.

DOUGH
Sponge.................................all of the above
Water (room temp)..................10 oz
Active Dry Yeast......................1 Tbl
Bran Cereal (crushed)................1/2 cup
Flax Seeds.............................1/4 cup
Spelt Flakes............................1/4 cup
Cornmeal...............................1/4 cup
Bread Flour.............................8 oz
Barley Malt Syrup......................4 Tbl
Vegetable Oil..........................4 Tbl
Kosher Salt.............................1 Tbl
Semolina Flour/Cornmeal.............for dusting
Melted butter..........................2 Tbl
1.  In a small bowl (or measuring cup) rehydrate the yeast in the water.
2.  Add the rehydrated yeast mixture, crushed bran cereal, flax seeds, spelt, cornmeal, flour, malt syrup, and vegetable oil to the sponge in the mixer bowl.  With paddle attachment, mix on low until all ingredients are combined, about 1-2 minutes.  Increase speed to medium and continue to mix for 6 minutes.  The dough will be VERY wet but should begin to pull away from the sides of the bowl as it is mixing.  Add a small amount of flour if you do not see a very very wet dough forming.  Add the salt and continue to mix on medium for 2 minutes. 
3.  Cover with plastic and let rise until doubled (it will come to the top of the mixer bowl), about 1 1/2 hours.  (Dough can be refrigerated at this time...but watch it in the 'fridge, it may try to flow over the edges of the bowl).
4.  Line baking sheets with parchment and dust generously with semolina or cornmeal.  Brush inside of baking rings with the melted butter and set them on the baking sheets.

5.  With a plastic dough scraper, scoop the dough out of the bowl in portions big enough to fill each ring nearly full.  (May need to wet your hands with water and spread the dough to fill the ring -- though it will continue to look sloppy and a bit uneven.)
6.  Let them sit at room temp, uncovered, for an hour - they will rise slightly during this time.  Preheat oven to 400.

7.  Sprinkle with dough with semolina or cornmeal and bake for 20 minutes.  Rotate the trays and bake for an additional 15-20 minutes.  The tops will be slightly browned when done.

8.  Let cool and remove from rings. 

9.  When serving, split in half with fork and toast.  (WARNING:  these are not so good untoasted)

Merry Christmas!!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

D is for Donuts

Donuts are a guilty pleasure for me.  Of course, membership in that quirky club is not terribly exclusive...a healthy dedicated neurosis such as mine lends itself to a broad and varied guilty pleasure repetoire.  Along with donuts (because they are a fried and relatively large snack), some of my other rather ridiculous guilty pleasures include: turning the stove all the way up to High (because it seems excessive),  Diet Coke before noon (because soda is not a breakfast item, of course), reading for more than an hour at a time (because that seems so nonproductive), ordering something other than The Big Salad when we go out to eat (again, because it just seems excessive), and generally taking credit for something good (because it wasn't that hard and I really didn't do it all by myself and because Nik helped...). 

I like to think that one of my motto's is Don't Think So Much but I realize that the simple fact that I have more than one motto is proof enough that, yes...I do think too much.  And isn't that what quirks (or neuroses, if you must) are...cognitive overflow?  Thinking too much about what time it is when I pop open a Diet Coke, or thinking too much about if anyone will notice that I have worn the same shirt for the past 3 Thursdays.  Worrying if my socks are a couple of shades too dark, relative to the pants that I am wearing.  These are not worries that require counseling or pharmeceuticals, fear not...but they have been present on a daily basis. 

I do believe that there probably was a time when my guilty pleasures/quirks/neuroses played a greater role in shaping my daily behavior...a time when these worries/facts crossed the line from being merely a passing thought to actually prompting a behavioral change.  The process worked something like this...Quirk leads to behavior leads to thinking about the quirk and the behavior which leads to worrying about what will happen next time.  And all that takes alot of energy.  I can't talk to you right now, I'm worrying about my socks. 

And if I'm going to worry about soda or socks or any number of seemingly trivial facts of life, why not just go for it and start worrying about what impression you are making or what people are saying about you when you leave a room or worrying if you are doing as good a job as other people, or the fact that the universe is contunually expanding.  Really, soda and socks are entry-level anxieties, there are so many bigger problems to tackle...if you think about it.  Don't.

But I went to culinary school for my 40th birthday.  And it changed my life, truly.  40 years is a long time to worry about socks.  And I'm really not sure why, but as the mixers were turning and the dough was rising, and as I was learning to shape bread and roll croissants, I also learned to let go of so much that got in the way during that first 40 years.  Baking bread is/was/continues to be therapeutic.  It's ancient and basic.  It's tactile.  It's satisfying.  A few simple ingredients, a little manual labor, heat, and you have bread...there's no hiding, no excuses, no faking it...bread is what it is.  If it is good, eat it and enjoy.  If it isn't good, well then we eat it anyway and make it better the next time. 

I think that has become my new motto...If it's good, eat it and enjoy; it if isn't good, eat it anyway and make it better next time. 

Baked Donuts

Yield:  Approx. 2 1/2 dozen
These donuts are baked, rather than fried, making them slightly less of a guilty pleasure.  And the dough is soft and alive and makes sweet little breakfast treats that almost melt if your mouth.  Enjoy them...and don't think so much. 

AP Flour..................................785 grams
Warm Milk...............................361 grams
Active Dry Yeast........................2 1/4 tsp (1 env)
Sugar.....................................64 grams
Salt.......................................16 grams
Eggs......................................106 grams
Cinnamon................................1/4 tsp
Nutmeg...................................3 grams
Softened Butter.........................180 grams
Currants..................................255 grams

Melted Butter............................2 oz
Vanilla Sugar.............................1 1/2 cups

1.  In mixer bowl, rehydrate the yeast in the milk.
2.  Add all the other ingredients except butter and currants.
3.  With paddle, mix on low speed until all ingredients are moistened and dough begins to develop (about 2-3 minutes).
4.  Add the softened butter and mix on medium for additional 4-6 minutes.  Dough will be soft but cohesive. 
5.  Add currants and mix on low until currents are evenly incorporated.  May need to knead a few minutes by hand to thoroughly incorporate the currants.
6.  Round the dough into a ball, place in mixer bowl, cover with plastic and let rise 1 hour.
7.  Preheat oven to 425.  Line sheet pans with parchment or Silpat.
8.  Roll dough to approx 1/2-inch thick.  Cut with donut cutter or with large and small round cookie cutters (I used a 3-inch round).  Lightly knead the scraps together and reroll. 
9.  Place donuts on prepared pans, cover and let rise approx 90 minutes (they will be puffy but not quite doubled in size).

10.  Brush with melted butter before baking.  Bake for 10-12 minutes (Do Not Overbake).

11.  Remove from the oven, brush with melted butter while still hot, and roll lightly in Vanilla sugar.

C is for Chocolate Car Cake

Little Jaecy (whose middle name is Svetlana) (and whom I have never actually met) will be turning one year old this week, and her mom asked if I would make a Wiggles Big Red Car cake for her birthday party.  My knowledge of The Wiggles was limited to their sometime appearance in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, and I think I probably hit the mute button when they rounded the corner.  That had to change with this cake request. 

I had to immerse myself in Wiggles, extracting just enough iconic and style information from their website and television show to design a credible cake, while ramping up the power of my blood-brain barrier to prevent catchy-kid-song-contagions from inhabiting my head and playing in a nonstop loop for the next 12-18 years.  When talking to Jaecy's mom about the cake, she did sing for me the phrase "toot toot chugga chugga big red car"... a phrase I was destined to repeat repeatedly, aloud and otherwise, for the duration of this particular cake project.  (and yes...it's playing in my head right now, as I type this sentence) 

It turned out okay...but I am not a Master of Fondant, as evidenced by the cracks and ripples in the surface and edges of the cake and car.  I recall Nik saying, mid-crisis, that I just need to practice more (true)..."Make one cake a week"...(maybe).  When done well, fondant looks spectacular; when done not-so-well, imperfections are glaring and nearly impossible to repair.  Gum Paste flowers are useful for hiding large cracks and holes in the fondant, as well as making a car-based cake look a little more girly.  My limited knowledge of The Wiggles leads me to belive that Greg, Murray, Jeff, and Anthony would just keep smiling...no matter what the cake looked like.  Works for me. 

The details:
Base Cakes:  Chocolate cake with a dark chocolate whipped ganache and a milk chocolate whipped ganache filling.
Car Cake:  Red Velvet cake with a milk chocolate whipped ganache filling. 
Coverings, Tires, Dorothy, small lettering:  rolled fondant.
Small flowers, hub caps, headlights, tail lights:  Gum Paste
JAECY flowers:  Inedible sticky-backed foam from the craft store. 

B is for Brioche

There is a sentiment/comment/reprimand that I hear on occasion...okay, well, maybe a little more frequently than "on occasion."  It has something to do with crossing the line, a phrase I dislike and a behavior for which I am rarely sorry.  Let's say, for example, that maybe a few friends are talking about music, and then maybe the topic shifts to, oh, say...country music, and then maybe The Judds are mentioned (well, why wouldn't they, the color of Wynonna's hair demands attention), and then maybe Nik says something about how it seemed like the Judds Farewell Tour lasted for about 3 years...chuckle chuckle chuckle, end of conversation.  Um, no, I don't think so, I cannot just let that one slip by...so, just maybe I suggest a possible (graphic) regretful comment that Mrs. Judd may have made when finding out she had Hepatitis C.  Which undoubtedly is followed by a laugh/a groan/then another laugh/and a final groan, and then I hear it...You had to, didn't you...you had to cross the line. 

Or, for example, when a longtime local TV news anchorwoman appears on our television in high definition with bangs (at her age?) and more than her daily allotment of make-up, so I casually mention that she looks like a tribeswoman from one of the indigenous peoples of the Amazon who went to the big city to become a prostitute.  Sure, he's laughing AND he agrees, but he also implies that I crossed the line.

But it isn't limited to verbage or spontaneous commentary.  F'rinstance, there's the annual Halloween battle.  Halloween...an international holiday that exists, as far as I'm concerned, for crossing the line, for pete's sake, and yet, I get shot down year after year.  Why?  Because instead of appearing at J and T's party as the overdone and predictable "Diana Ross and The Supremes" (yawn), apparently I cross the line when I want to dress as "Diana Ross And The White Supremacists."  Come on, it's Halloween!!!

I could go on, and apparently that's the point, sometimes I do go on...a bit much, some might suggest.  Perhaps it's really just a matter of editing.  There are those who edit prior to speaking.  I, on the other hand, sometimes, allow my listeners to make the choice for themselves, and thus provide them with the unedited/unfiltered version of my thoughts, from which they can choose to respond/react/revolt/retreat. 

But, to be honest, really...it's almost always just for laughs.  I have always said that I will gladly sacrifice a meaningful conversation for a really good one-liner.  Personality flaw?  Avoidance behavior?  Politically incorrect? Sophomoric?  Sure, maybe, probably.  But, say what he wants, Nik still laughs...when I am the one crossing the line. 

Brioche is a rich, heavenly, wonderful medium with which to cross culinary lines, because it crosses lines by its very existence.  Pastry chefs consider brioche a cake, while for bakers it is certainly a bread.  Rich with eggs and butter, legend has it that (the tragically out of touch) M. Antoinette actually said "Let them eat brioche" in reponse to the peasants' lack of bread.  Crossing the line, when referring to food, might also be called gilding the lily, because what brioche does not need is an additional layer of richness.  But one bite of a soft buttery brioche filled with a vanilla pastry cream, and the concept of need is irrelevant/out the window, and we can be glad for those who cross lines.  

Brioche

Yield:  Approx 20 small brioche

AP Flour.......................................500 grams
Water...........................................50 grams
Sugar............................................70 grams
Eggs............................................250 grams
Salt..............................................12 grams
Yeast............................................30 grams
Butter (softened).............................250 grams
Egg Wash
Turbinado Sugar
1.  Combine yeast and water in mixer bowl, let set about 5 minutes until rehydrated.
2.  Combine dry ingredients.  Add dry ingredients and eggs to yeast mixture and mix with paddle attachment for 12 minutes.  (This builds the strength of the dough).
3.  Add the butter to the dough, bit by bit, with the paddle attachment incorporating the dough slightly as you go.  Don't dawdle -- get that butter into the dough.
4.  Beat for approx 6 minutes on medium speed, until the butter is fully incorporated into the dough.  (It may take a few minutes more or less)  The dough will be soft and silky.
5.  Scrape dough into a bowl, cover and let chill at least 2 hours, preferably overnight.

When ready to bake...
1.  Prehat oven to 350.
2.  Butter 20 muffin cups (or small brioche molds, if you have them)
3.  Divide dough into 2 ounce pieces.

4.  Roll the dough into a ball, then into a bowling pin laying on its side (using the side of your little finger), then into a sombrero, then place in the buttered muffin cups - folding the rim of the sombrero up and a little around the peak of the sombrero (see picture).
5.  Cover with plastic and let rise about an hour, until they are puffy and almost rise above the rim of the muffin tin. 
6.  Brush gently with an egg wash, sprinkle with Turbinado sugar, and bake for approx 20 minutes (until golden).

7.  Remove from muffin tins carefully (you may have to loosen the sides with a small, thin spatula).
If you are crossing the line/gilding the lily:
1.  Slice off the cap of the brioche. 
2.  Gently remove the interior crumb from the base of the brioche.

3.  Fill with a spoonful or two of pastry cream (see recipe).  (Add a few sliced strawberries in the base of the brioche and atop the pastry cream if you have them.)
4.  Replace the cap of the brioche, serve and enjoy.

Pastry Cream
Yield:  2 1/2 cups

Whole Milk...............................2 cups
Sugar......................................1/2 cup, divided
Salt........................................1/4 tsp
Cornstarch................................3 1/2 Tbl
Eggs........................................1 whole
Egg Yolks..................................2
Butter......................................2 Tbl
Vanilla Extract............................3/4 tsp

1.  In medium saucepan, bring milk and half the sugar to a simmer.
2.  Combine the salt, cornstarch, and remaining sugar in medium bowl.  Mix in egg and egg yolks.
3.  Slowly add the warmed milk to the egg mixture, whisking continually.
4.  Return the mixture to the saucepan and heat until it begins to bubble, stirring/whisking continually.  Let it bubble for 30 seconds.  Remove from heat and add the butter and the vanilla, stirring until it is combined.
3.  Scrape pastry cream out of saucepan, into medium bowl.  Plac ein ice bath, and place platic wrap directly on the top of the pastry cream.  Let cool then refrigerate.