The Earth Oven Returns to the Earth

From 52 Loaves: 

 “I’m going to have to build the oven base over again, with mortar,” I moaned to Anne.

“What’s so wrong with that?”

“The project is escalating. Now we’re into a permanent structure.”

“Not necessarily.”

Guess my wife was right (again). Recently, the tarp that had been protecting my earthen bread oven from the elements blew off while we were out of town for a few days, exposing the oven to a torrential downpour, followed by frost and snow, and, well, it's safe to say that that oven has baked its last loaf of bread. The force of the hundreds of pounds of clayey earth collapsing on itself even destroyed the base(!), blowing out the mortared brick.

The truth is, I only used the oven on several occasions, because it was so time-consuming to heat it to baking temperature, but I'm still sad to see it go, for I had at least been able to hold onto the illusion that I'd someday use it again.  (I'm also sorry not to have a time-release video of its demise.) In memorial, then, here are some photos of the oven, followed by a full reprint of a chapter from 52 Loaves about its construction.

Here's my son Zach digging the foundation. What came out of this immense hole (see next photo), mainly clay, would eventually become the oven.

Once the base was completed, a wet sand form provided the inner mold for the oven -- all that clayey soil we'd saved from the foundation.

When it was good, it was very good.

 

Click here to read Terror Firma, the short chapter on building the earth oven: round  1.

Year-end honors for "52 Loaves"

I'm very grateful for some year-end honors accorded my memoir, 52 Loaves.

The book has been named to both the Kirkus Reviews and Booklist Top Food Books of 2010, and an excerpt has been included in Best Food Writing of 2010. (Of course, if you're only going to buy one food book this season...IT'S THE ONE WITH ALL MY CHAPTERS (not an excerpt), comprendez?

Herb and Bacon Focaccia

When I see focaccia on the menu, I usually turn the page, for more often than not it tastes like stale pizza crust, but being in the mood to try something new, I figured I could easily do better. I went to my cookbook library, but after being discouraged by complicated recipes with poolishes and overnight this and that, I decided to do it the simple way, by started with my basic pizza dough and turning it into focaccia by way of getting they hydration up to 72% and doing some stretching and folding, as with ciabatta.  I had some fresh thyme and sage in the garden, and threw in some bacon for good measure. The result: a delicious, airy crust with an herb-infused flavor.

Here's the recipe:

Dough:
 326 g all-purpose flour
 161 g levain (see my levain recipe here )
 212 g water
 9 g salt
 1/4 teas. instant yeast

Topping:
 2 Tbl chopped fresh sage
 1 Tbl chopped fresh thyme
 3-4 Tbl olive oil steeped with some sage and thyme
 6 slices bacon, cooked about 2/3 of the way through  and chopped

1.  Make the dough: combine all ingredients, mix, cover with towel and allow to rest for 25 min.
2. Knead by hand about 7 minutes. The dough will be quite wet.
3. Place in oiled bowl. Cover with plastic wrap sprayed with vegetable oil spray and let sit at room temp for about 2 hours.
4. Place in refrigerator for at least 4 hours; more time if you have it. Then return to countertop for another hour or two, until it's no longer ice cold. It won't rise an awful lot; don't worry about it.
5. On well-floured countertop, gently press dough into a 6-inch square; cover with the plastic and let rest a few minutes.
6. Lightly flour the top of the dough., then grab the dough in the middle of the square and stretch outwards about twice the original size, and fold back. Do the same with the other half, envelope style.
7. Cover and rest for 30 min. Repeat the folding; cover and rest 30 min.
8. Cover a rimmed  cookie sheet with parchment paper and lightly spray with oil. My pan was about 11 by 16 inches, but the size is not too important.
9. Using your fingers, gently push the dough out to form an even layer over the pan about 3/8 to 1/2 inch high. It may not fill the pan. Add the herbs, cover with plastic and let rise about 1-1/2 hours.
10. Preheat the oven to 525 degrees.
11. Fifteen minutes before baking, Brush with the herb-infused olive oil, then use your fingers to gently poke indentations into the dough, thus working the oil into the dough. It will pool up in the dimples. Add the bacon.
12. Place in oven; turn oven down to 450 degrees and bake for about 15-20 minutes until lightly golden brown. Let cool for a few minutes, but it's best eaten when warm.

A vist to the bread museum (okay, so I'm a dweeb)

On a recent trip to Provence, I found myself staying in Bonnieux, where I'd read in a guideboook there was a certain museum of interest. I asked our innkeeper where it was, and he had to consult a map. "You're the first one to ever ask," he said.

Figures. The museum in question was the Bread Museum, or more properly, the Bakery Museum, La Musée de la Boulangerie, and I wasn't leaving town without seeing it. Fortunately, by the time we'd arrived on this rainy Sunday afternoon, the crowds had dispersed, and we had the place almost to ourselves. Other than the plaster figure loading the (authentic) oven  (the museum was formerly a bakery) and some ancient reapers,

much of the museum is devoted to documentation regulating the price of bread and flour -- not the most thrilling collection, but real important if you happened to be living in France a century or two ago. Still, there were some great vintage posters, some neat antique baking instruments, and we had a grand time. So should you ever find yourselves  in Provence on a rainy day, I highly recommend it. If you find it.

Pizza Disastro

What better way to celebrate -- or mourn -- the last week of summer than to make a pizza in the clay oven that had not been used all season long. After some difficulty, I got a good fire going, had the last mojito of summer, then after about an hour, threw in one last piece of firewood and pronounced the oven ready for cooking.

This was so easy! What hadn't I used this thing more? Inside, Anne and I prepared two small pies: one with chorizo and leek, the other with fresh tomatoes and basil. Ten minutes later.... Maybe 15 minutes...Okay, 20 minutes (or more) later I brought both pies out to the oven.

The fire, which had been roaring when I'd last seen it, was nearly out. No matter, I should have enough residual heat. I slid the pie off the peel. No I didn't. I had taken so long to make the second pizza, the first one was by now glued to the peel. I somehow got it into the oven, if a little deformed. Odd... no sizzle. Surely the oven hadn't cooled that much. I put my hand in to test the temp. If you can't keep your hand in for a count of 3 the oven's ready -- I could have left in there all day. I threw in some more wood and huffed and puffed like mad, reviving the fire. Better....now the back of the pie was cooking, but the front was still raw. I tried to rotate it. Ever try to to rotate raw dough in an enclosed space?

Twenty minutes later the pie (which by now resembled a calzone that had been dropped on the ground) was cooked/burned/almost raw, depending on where you looked.

Wising up, the second pie I cooked the way God intended us to cook: in an electric oven on a pizza stone.


Buon appetito!