Flying breadbox

Well, this is pretty funny. British Airways is running an ad campaign saying they found a star baker with a "secret recipe" to keep rolls fresh at 30,000 feet. (BTW, those are BA's rendering of dinner-roll clouds above, not Post Honey Bunches or peanut clusters)

Wow!  A couple of things:

1. The fact that they are trying to lure you aboard their planes with the promise of fresh dinner rolls is, to a baking enthusiast like myself, nothing short of fantastic. Bizarre, when you consider all the other facets of flying, but fantastic. As I wrote in the May issue of Saveur, the revolution has arrived.

2. Big deal. It's a challenge keeping bread fresh in a plane? Planes are kept extraordinarily dry (to keep rust at bay) and cool. Kind of like...hmm...what's the best analogy I can come up with... oh, like a breadbox! Really, a plane is really a flying breadbox. In fact, you may well feel like you've locked in a breadbox after an 8-hour flight to London.

So my note to British Airways. Thanks for thinking about the bread, but let me know when you've accomplished a really challenging feat -- like keep bread fresh for more than 4 hours in a New York August! (And putting my bags on the same plane as me.)

Give or take...

Fresh berries are in here in the Hudson Valley, and I wanted something light but tasty as a carrier for the berries. I figured a shortbread cookie would be perfect. As I often do, I went to my King Arthur Flour Cookbook first, and was startled to find the following ingredient:

1-1/2 to 3 cups flour

What? A variance of 100%?! I mean, we all know that volumes of flour are inexact (which is why all my recipes use weight, not volume), but this makes my grandmother's recipes sound like nuclear physics by comparison!

Here's the slightly more precise recipe (rom Epicurious)I ended up using, which gave me just what I was looking for: a tasty, crumbly, but light base for the berries and whipped cream. And quick and easy to make. Don't skip the orange zest.


Scottish Shortbread

• 1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon finely grated fresh orange zest
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 tablespoon sugar (turbinado if you have it)

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.
2. Combine chopped-up butter, sugar, zest, and salt in stand mixer or mix by hand until thoroughly blended. Add flour and mix with fingers. Form a ball, wrap dough in plastic, press into a disk, and place in refrigerator about 30 minutes (or freezer for 10).
3. Leaving dough on plastic, press out with hands and/or floured rolling pin into about a 5 x 10-inch rectangle. Transfer to baking sheet lined with parchment paper.
4. Poke surface evenly with fork. Lightly score partway into serving-size pieces. Sprinkle top with sugar, and bake about 15-20 minutes until edges are brown and middle is just beginning to turn golden.
5. Cut on score lines all the way through. Cool on rack. Top with berries and a dollop (1-8 tablespoons, as King Arthur might say) of freshly-whipped cream.

Visit https://vimeo.com/36158371 for a beautifully shot, lyrical meditation on bread featuring Maurizio Negrini, a third generation baker from Bologna, Italy, now baking in Boulder, Colorado. When you watch the video, not how wonderfully wet and loose the dough it. You can tell already this is going to be good bread.

Kudos to Una Morera for creating this loving tribute to bread and the people who bake it for us.

Spring fling pizza

To celebrate the end of asparagus season (in our garden, that is), I made this colorful as spring-y red and green asparagus, double-smoked bacon, and goat cheese pizza. I refrigerated the dough overnight, but in a pinch, you can use it the same day -- just don't refrigerate, or refrigerate briefly. If you don't have sourdough or levain on hand for the crust, increase the flour and water by 80 g each and the yeast to 3/4 teaspoon. Or even better, build a levain following the instructions on my website.
 
Recipe:
Makes 2 12-inch pizzas  - use one for this recipe, freeze the other for future use or another pie.
 
Dough:

• 274 g all-purpose flour
• 48 g whole wheat flour
• 161 g levain
• 200 g water
• 9 g salt
• 1/4 teas instant yeast
• 1 teas olive oil

1. Mix all ingredients and let sit, covered with a dish towel, for 25-30 minutes. 
2. Knead by hand for about 6 minutes if using a levain, about 12 if not.
3. Place in container misted with spray oil, cover with plastic wrap (also sprayed), and place in refrigerator overnight.
4. Remove from fridge about 3 hours before baking.
5. At least 1 hour before baking, place a pizza stone into oven on top shelf, and preheat to 500 degrees F.
6. Divide in half, form a ball, let the dough sit, covered, for about 10 minutes to relax, then form the pizzas. (If only making one pie, freeze the other ball of dough at this point.)

Topping:

• 6 or so asparagus
• 1/4 pound double-smoked bulk bacon
• 1/4 pound fresh goat cheese
• A few tablespoons of grated Gruyere or Parmesan cheese
• 2 Tbl olive oil

1. Cut the asparagus on the bias into about 2-inch pieces and toss with 1 Tbl olive oil
2. Cut the bacon into half-inch cubes, saute until cooked halfway through
3. Crumble the goat cheese into chunks.

Assembly and cooking

1. Brush the crust lightly with olive oil, top with asparagus, cheeses, and bacon.
2. Place onto pizza stone, bake until crust is brown on the edges, about 5-8 minutes, depending on your oven.

See my cover story of the American artisan bread movement, and how I translated it to my kitchen, in the May issue of Saveur magazine. Also, some great recipes by Dan Leader (Bread Alone).

Here's a crumb:

I was at a French conversation class in New Jersey recently, and a poor soul who didn’t speak French, having been dragged there by his wife, had taken refuge in the back row. The teacher asked each of us introduce ourselves, and when my turn came I said, in my fractured French, that I enjoyed baking bread.

“Pain au levain?” came a voice from the back of the class.

“I thought you didn’t speak French,” another student said in disbelief.

“Not a word! But bread I know!”

That’s when I knew the artisan bread movement had arrived.