I didn’t think I would be baking at all. The little hobby that supports all this baking fun was keeping me away from home and oven.

However, I am working for a client who employs a chef to prepare meals for the executives and he graciously lent me the executive kitchen for the day (and the evening before.)

After getting the lay of the land in the kitchen and not wanting to poach too heavily on the supplies, I turned the wheels of the rental car to the local mega-mart and stocked up on the essentials for a day of baking.  The local mega mart had fresh yeast and I couldn’t resist – some cream, some buttermilk, eggs, KA 11.5% protein white flour, some whole wheat flour, butter, brown sugar – that would give me at least four different baked goods.

So, late at night (well, late for me) on the first day of the year, I did my scaling and mixed my pre ferments.  Early the next morning I returned.

It hadn’t hit me the night before, but as I walked into the space in the morning (and checked my pre ferment first thing) I realized that for the day this kitchen was all mine.

I’ve worked in commercial kitchens before, but always when they were under the control of someone else.  But today, for one day, I was in charge. I didn’t get the satisfaction of buttoning on my chef’s jacket (Yes, through a long series of unfortunate events I was forced to buy a chef’s jacket.  I generally avoid enterprises that require new clothing, but this was unavoidable.) but I was the head baker that day.

Being engaged in the discipline of planning, I had the day laid out.  The kitchen was minimally equipped for bread baking (no wooden surfaces to work on, no couches, no loaf pans) but I was able to adjust.  I first baked some scones to get some food out to hungry colleagues, and then started the (hand) mix on about eight pounds of baguette dough.  I then did the mix for some Moravian sugar cake and took a deep breath.  I had a lot of whole wheat flour left and so decided to make a whole wheat sandwich loaf.  All that practice in formula writing served me well and I was able to write up a formula using available ingredients.  I did the mix in the Kitchen Aid Pro 600 mixer to as close to an intensive mix as I have ever gotten. I noted that this was a weak, whiney little machine compared to My Preciousssss.

A request rolled in for more scones and it was easily accommodated.

I had to proof the baguette dough (shaped for epis de ble and an Auvergnat) on parchment, but no biggie (actually, yes, big biggie to me, I don’t understand why anyone with a love of artisan bread baking doesn’t just bite the bullet and buy a proper couche – so much benefit from so little expenditure.).  Six ounces of dough that was left over from those shapes was rolled out, brushed liberally with olive oil and then sprinkled with dried herbs (a good use for it).

Since proofing facilities were primitive, at best, I did a lot of my proofing in unoccupied areas of the building which were, curiously warmer than the kitchen.

The Vulcan convection oven had a practical capacity for 3 sheet pans, so my eight pounds of baguette dough could be baked all at once. I contemplated mightily what I could do if I had that sort of oven capacity on a daily basis.

Since there were no loaf pans, I baked the whole wheat sandwich loaf in a conveniently shaped hotel pan.

Oh. And I kept up with emails and technical request from my hobby.

Strangely, the only disappointing moment had to do with the yeast.  (And realize that since this was a long way from home, I had no access to sourdough starter – which forced me to work with all commercial yeast.) The local mega mart had fresh Fleischmann’s yeast.  Now, I know that for the end product itself, instant yeast is most likely the same as fresh (Please, let us not open the great fresh vs. instant yeast debate!), but in terms of process and the impact on me the baker, there is nothing the action and aroma of fresh yeast early in the process.  I find the smell quite intoxicating although as the process goes along that early-on smell and feel is lost. So I had purchased fresh yeast.  When I went to open the little blocks I saw the words “Product of China” emblazoned on the package.  Has it come that? Really? Really!? We get our fresh yeast from China!? What the ----? I’m going to need to look into this further and see if there is a closer source.  This product is not available in my home market, but as sensuous as the experience is, I am not completely sure I can support flying in yeast from across the Pacific Ocean just to give me that little fresh yeast high.

I started at 7:15 AM and by 3 PM I had produced:

2 batches of scones

4 epis de ble

1 Auvergnat

1 mini foccacia

3 Moravian sugar cakes

1 Whole wheat loaf

If I hadn’t been such a wimp with the size of the baguette dough mix (I could easily have handled double or triple the amount even with a hand mix – but I hadn’t purchased enough flour!) I could easily have made more. I am more convinced than ever of the primacy of oven capacity (and practice with hand skills to be able to divide and shape quickly and efficiently) to determine how much can be produced in a reasonable working day.

All the products were consumed by a grateful project team.  They were pretty good. (Ok, the scones [formula on these pages] were awesome – even when triticale isn’t used.)

I also have a streak of lightly charred flesh on my left hand (not serious, it doesn’t even hurt) from a miscalculation about oven racks to remember the day. Some bakers get ink – I collect scars…

As I looked out over my sparkling clean kitchen (I was, after all, a guest – but a kitchen should be that sparkling clean at the end of a work day anyway) with tired feeties and deep satisfaction, I felt that the universe was sending me a message.  I just wish I knew what it was.

As the few of you who read my posts know, 2011 was the year when I wanted to concentrate on formula development.  But as I found myself winding up the year and looking on to the next, I thought it might be time to look through my vast collection of “vintage” recipes and pull out something from a distant and fading past.

This almost always leads me to the collection of recipes from my grandmother. Of course, at this festive time of year, I am the one tasked with baking a treat that is known only as Grandma’s Brown Christmas Cookies. While not a secret family recipe, it is not worth posting here as it involves an ingredient that is somewhat difficult to obtain (and may or may not be especially legal to have) and large numbers of tiny cookie cutters – which, frankly, are not easy to come by.  No, it is my job to turn that out for the relatives until my death – when no one will make it anymore.

But, there are recipes that are more accessible to the average home baker and this year I decided to resurrect the making of “Crispy Cookie Coffeecakes.” I will reproduce the recipe as per the original (in hopes that this miracle of the “interweb” may preserve it after my inevitable demise) – and the offer my changes.  So here it goes, another “don’t tell the doctor, but we’re baking PA Dutch stuff” recipe from my grandmother.

CRISPY COOKIE COFFECAKE

1 package or cake Fleischmann’s Yeast, active dry or compressed

¼ cup warm, not hot, water (cool to lukewarm for compressed yeast)

4 cups sifted flour

1 tsp salt

1 tsp grated lemon rind

1 cup (2 sticks) Blue Bonnet Margarine

2 eggs, beaten

1 cup milk scalded and cooled to lukewarm

1 cup sugar

1 tbsp cinnamon

In a small bowl, dissolve yeast in water. In a large bowl combine flour, salt, lemon rind, ¼ cup sugar.  Cut in margarine with a fork.  Combine eggs, milk, dissolved yeast and add to flour mixture.  Combine lightly.  Cover tightly. Refrigerate overnight. Divide dough in half. On a floured board roll each piece into 18” x 12” rectangles.  Sprinkle with remaining sugar mixed with cinnamon. Roll up tighty beginning at the wide end.  Cut each roll into 1” slices.  Place cut side up on a greased baking sheet.  Flatten with palm of hand.  Bake at 400 degrees F. about 12 minutes.

Makes 36

My changes

Butter instead of margarine.  I cut this butter into smallish cubes and kept it chilled. I did convert the flour to 4.25 oz per cup and weighed instead of measured.

I noted with great satisfaction that my grandmother dissolved – not proofed - the yeast and then used a scant 2 teaspoons of instant yeast mixed directly into the flour mixture.  I used reconstituted powdered milk and increased the quantity by ¼ cup while omitting the lukewarm water.

I used a dough blender to cut in the butter. 

While I was doing that, I had a flashback to blitz puff pastry.  Because that was what I was making.  My grandmother didn’t go into the folding process, but this was blitz puff pastry dough.

The dough is quite alarming when it goes into the refrigerator, but in the morning turned out to be a lovely, soft dough.

I rolled it out into the 12 x 18 rectangle (liberal flour is needed on the board) and then folded it in thirds and rolled it out again. I consider that future iterations might well include better folds, but I had a busy baking schedule ahead of me and I wanted to get on with it.

I goosed up the cinnamon sugar mixture by using half brown sugar.  I baked on parchment paper lined half sheet pans (the cinnamon/sugar filling runs a bit, so containment is helpful.)

I had to bake the things for 17 minutes.  I had a distant memory that when I used to eat these they had frosting on them, so I concocted a quick butter/vanilla/powdered sugar/milk glaze and spooned it on when they had cooled slightly.

Yum.

Now back to Sherman’s planet where I once more take up my ongoing triticale quest.

“My teacher” gave me a memorable quote something to the effect that if one is working with grains that might not be considered optimal for baking, adding enough sugar, butter, and cream will almost always move one closer to success. So I am shamelessly stealing a formula from “my teacher” and tailoring it to my own obsession – triticale

Scones

Mostly Whole GrainTriticale flour                 545 grams            100%

Sugar                                                                     136 grams            25%

Baking Powder                                                  33 grams              6%

Salt                                                                         3 grams               .5%

Butter (unsalted, diced pliable soft)        136 grams            25%

Currants tossed in a little extra flour        109 grams            20%

Eggs, Large                                                          60 grams              11%

Buttermilk                                                           204 gram              37.5%

Heavy Cream                                                     289 grams            53.1%

Cinnamon sugar mixture – or just sugar

In the formula above, the 60 grams is really one large egg.

The flour is about 85% extraction, sifted through a #50 mesh, with the bran milled to a powder.  It’s a nice flour, not exactly silky, but much finer than standard whole grain.  The original formula calls for whole wheat pastry flour, but be bold home millers – try the triticale!

And here we take a mental detour to comments made by “my teacher” – who like me grew up with the Imperial system and has not the reverence for the metric espoused by so many on these pages. Yet, because of certain extenuating circumstances, this formula had to be written in grams.  There were dark mutterings about people feeling that they had to measure everything in grams to bake good bread and strange oaths about never seeing the day come to pass when a scale was needed that measured in fractions of grams. At this point, I swear, I didn’t even say anything, when my teacher looked me directly in the eye – “Yes, when you deal drugs, you need that accuracy.”  For one of the very few times in my life – I had no snappy retort.  You see what I endure – and yet, I am proud to call this person “my teacher.”

(BTW: for you metric enthusiasts, I’ve spent over half a century baking with pounds and ounces, I have a feeling for them.  Half a pound – I know what that looks like in several different ingredients.  A kilo?  Beats me. When I work with people who are new to baking, I use pounds and ounces, but suggest that since they don’t have the years invested in that system that they start fresh and create their references in metric.  Seems like the sensible blending of the worlds to me.)

But back to the scones.

Mix the dry ingredients and the sugar. With paddle attachment of your favorite mixer, blend in the butter until it looks like small peas. Add the currants (I actually used dried cherries, chopped up a bit), mix and then add the liquid all at once.  Mix to a soft dough.  I actually mixed the triticale version a bit longer than I would have mixed wheat.

Use a scoop of desired size to create rounds on parchment lined sheets (I used a standard ice cream scoop sized disher).  Egg wash the tops.  If desired, sprinkle with sugar or cinnamon sugar (I use the formula from Advanced Bread and Pastry) and bake either in convection or standard oven at 350F for 13 – 18 minutes.

Also, yum. I’ve baked this formula with wheat and the triticale texture is very, very similar. They are very delicate scones in either medium and do with some cooling before they can be eaten without excessive crumbling.

And so, as promised, a picture:

Happy Baking!

Pat

My old waffle iron was handed down to me from my grandmother.  As the one or two of you who read my posts know, I am no spring chicken.  Neither is the waffle iron – which is roughly my mother’s age.

Just as with human beings, appliances seem to have a lifespan.  When sometime last year half of one of the two waffles produced by this venerable piece of equipment never got beyond a pale yellow and parts that should not have gotten warm became ominously hot, I decided that honorable retirement was the best thing for the trusty old waffle iron and began to cast about for one more fit for active duty.

I found one – I did all the standard “interweb” searching and this one was highly rated – except it was advertised as a “Belgian Waffle Iron” but reviewers said that the waffles were really a bit on the thin side for “Belgian” waffles.  I thought that would be perfect.  It was – sort of.  The recipe (found on these pages, thanks SylviaH) that I had for sourdough waffles wasn’t quite up to the increased thickness.

And it was bit sour for my tastes, I thought.

And not quite light enough.

With a head slap to my forehead, I reminded myself that 2011 was all about formula development and that perhaps I had it in my grasp to revise the (already delicious) formula to my specific tastes.

Also, if truth be told, I’ve been doing some Supply Chain consulting for the company that distributes OXO products.  You know “Good Grips” – the angled measuring cups, etc. In the vast confluence of unlikely events that makes up my life, I was chatting with one of the folks about my desire to own a hand cranked egg beater, their new egg beater and how cool it looked and somehow, one happened to come into my possession. I promised that I would give it a workout and report back.  A new waffle formula seemed to be just the thing.

I get all misty about waffles around the Solstice because my father really loves them. My mother can’t make them (that talent skipped a generation) and the only time he gets them is when I make the journey halfway across the continent to make them for him – usually at this time of year.  Unfortunately, the little hobby that supports my household and what seems to be an ever growing assortment of hangers on sometimes has its extraordinary demands and I will not be making waffles on the East Coast until sometime in 2012.

So for your enjoyment, I give you my jazzed up waffle formula.  I always have plenty of sourdough discard hanging about the house, but it’s worth saving up some.

As with so many of my breads as of late I use two “pre ferments.” I’m told by someone I respect (and admire!) that this is over elaborate, but since I’ve made this switch people (some of whom don’t even know me) are going seriously crazy over my breads, so, well, too bad, I say, too bad.

First pre ferment

4.5 oz 100% hydration sourdough discard

6 oz 11.5% protein flour (this is King Arthur All Purpose flour, but ringing in my ears is “All purpose? What does that mean?  You are beyond that.  You speak in protein percentages now!” Must – obey –voice!)

4 oz unsalted butter melted and cooled

8 oz milk

1 tsp sea salt

2 TBS non diastatic malt (or brown sugar)

Mix (with an eggbeater if you have one) and allow to mature overnight.

Second pre ferment

2.25 oz 11.5% protein flour

2.25 oz water

Pinch of instant yeast

Mix and allow to mature overnight

Additional ingredients

2 eggs, separated

¼ tsp baking soda

When pre ferments are matured (the next morning…)

Pre-heat the waffle iron at the appropriate time...

Beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form (I’ll mention that an egg beater comes in handy here…)

Mix together the two pre ferments, the egg yolks, and the baking soda (can also be done with an eggbeater.)

Fold in the egg whites. Don’t use the eggbeater for this.

Bake per your waffle iron’s directions and your tastes.

Just a few more minutes than the earlier version – delish!

So, realizing what a privilege it is to get to make waffles for your family – be sure to make a special breakfast (or dinner) over the next couple of weeks.

My best wishes for whatever brings light into this dark time of the year go out to you all!

You’ve heard that expression, right? It isn’t that it does it well – it’s that it does it at all.

In that vein, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about why we love the wheat from America’s Heartland. The gluten is strong and tolerant – mix it gently or intensively, it stands up.  Throw it in the retarder – it just gets stronger.  Put it in a poolish and let it go slightly over ripe – well, it won’t be perfection, but it will still make decent bread.  Shape it aggressively and it still holds together.

Wheat is grown other places and some of it is not so generous, but as I have recently been reminded, one can still produce pretty nice bread.  It just takes more emphasis on process and technique.

I especially think about this as I return to my quest for good bread from that bad boy grain – triticale.  I’ve read some works by researchers from the University of Colorado that claim it can be done.  After some moderate progress towards my goal, I fell apart big time.  I was producing bricks.  Bricks with nasty, wet centers.  No reason to post anything about those – they were just inedible.  I began to think that triticale lobbyists had somehow sponsored and influenced these results.

After taking a break for a long, hot summer that made baking too much to endure, doing some traveling, studying, and being somewhat absorbed by the little hobby that pays for all this, I finally had a chance to get back to my work.

Of course, I had received some serious inspiration about working with lower protein wheats.  As it turned out, my instincts were mostly correct – pre ferment a large percentage of the total flour in a firm levain based pre ferment – use a short bulk ferment – and bake in a hot oven.  Some finer points, though, I had neglected.  Some of those things were salting the pre ferment to slow down the action of the yeast and enzymes, keeping the hydration moderate (I was particularly inspired by a remark about high hydration and sperm counts, but that’s a story for another day), developing the dough carefully and shaping really gently but firmly.

So I tempered and milled up a batch of triticale.  It was perhaps 75% extraction or so and contained only the bran that made it through my next to finest sieve.  The researchers had used white flour in their studies, but I was convinced that I was up to the challenge of the "mostly white" flour.

The photo below shows the triticale flour on the left next to some all purpose flour for a comparison.  It was a nice flour, in my opinion, just a little sandy from the bran. (Yes, need a better camera – or a better photographer)

I used a formula for commercially yeasted lightly enriched bread with 30% of the flour pre fermented in a firm levain.  Into the levain I added 1.8% salt – the same percent as in the overall formula.

I decided that I had been a wimp in developing the dough in a mixer because the studies showed that triticale had low mixing tolerance, so I decided to use "slap and fold" method to develop the dough.  At least if I was holding the dough in my hand, I would not be in constant fear of breaking down triticale's low quality gluten.

At the beginning the dough was quite a mess.  I was reluctant to put (triticale) flour on the bench as the studies showed that triticale dough at lower hydrations became short and inelastic, where triticale dough at 68% hydration (the hydration of my formula) was elastic, although sticky.  Finally, though, I came to the conclusion that discretion is the better part of valor and added flour to the bench.  After some minutes of slapping and folding, I had dough that could be described as elastic.  I actually kvelled.  I had never gotten really elastic dough from triticale before.  Had this been a wheat dough it would have been nothing special, but this was triticale…

After 20 minutes bulk fermentation, I gave it stretch and fold and it actually stretched.  After 30 minutes it got another stretch and fold (And it stretched! Again! And didn’t cement itself to the bench!)

Clearly I was on to something here, but I had made a vital miscalculation.  I had an appointment to get to and I would not have time to proof and bake the loaf.  So I shaped it, popped it into the proofer (uncovered!) for 45 minutes and then loaded it into a 425F oven set to turn off after thirty minutes and rushed off.

Had this been my usual wheat in the bread, I could have retarded the loaf, but I remembered dire warnings about retarding low protein wheat and so thought better of  it.

Amazingly, the baking technique was effective although it accounts for the thick crust.

And if I got a big shred like that on a wheat loaf, I would reconsider the degree of emotional investment I have given this bread baking thing.  But for the first time ever I saw evidence of decent oven spring in a triticale loaf (in case you were wondering, I do consider that it might have been under proofed…).

The crumb was pretty tight (but this is what I want in a panned loaf) but fairly strong and soft.  The taste is delicious.  It is.

It isn’t there, yet.  It isn’t a photo to make a person drool (maybe tribbles - do tribbles drool?) – but it is significant progress on a grain that most folks simply dismiss as unsuitable for bread baking.  Look – triticale will not ever bake like hard wheat-  I'm not delusional – but I’m more convinced than ever that acceptable bread can be made from it.

So to the source of my inspiration (and you should know who you are) – thank you – you helped me turn this little project around.

Until the next batch…

for Challah

It has been awhile, but recently I was reminded that there is more to making bread than baguettes.  A cold front in the Rockies also gave me a window to bake.

Still can't take those photos so good...

3 pounds or so of Challah dough.  A base of a flat 6 strand braid (6 ozs per strand) with a 5 strand braid (4 oz per strand) on top.

Happy Baking!

Pat

 For the one or two of you following my continuing work with triticale, the Great Triticale Crisis of 2011 had me down to my very last bag of tribble food which finally I decided to mill.

In the meantime, with the help of MiniOven, I found a paper from researchers at Colorado State University that contained the vital Mixograph and Absorption numbers that might help me make a breakthrough.  Turns out that hydrations over 68% produce an elastic "wheat like" dough from triticale while lower hydrations produced the putty like dough that had convinced me to treat triticale like rye.

The Mixograph results showed that triticale would have a lot less mixing tolerance than wheat (had to be careful not to overmix) and the researchers reported that they had no success using a Hobart dough hook, but better results with the paddle attachment.

The work in this paper was done with white triticale flour, so I decided to mill a "closer to white" flour than I had been using.  I followed my standard wheat milling process to get about an 85% extraction flour.

I decided on a very simple formula with 30% of the flour pre fermented in a 68% hydration levain based pre ferment.  4% shortening, 4% milk powder, 2% salt, 1.2% instant  yeast, 1% honey, and 69% water. (Calculation of the weights left as an exercise for the reader - it's really just a basic "sandwich loaf" formula - loaded pretty heavily with yeast.)  I mixed for about four minutes with the Kitchen Aid paddle attachment, the switched to the dough hook - which worked well for me -  for another 2 minutes.

The dough was a very soft, sticky dough, but was fairly elastic with what I would consider low/ moderate gluten development.

Thinking that I was now dealing with more of a wheat like dough than a rye, I gave it an hour of bulk fermentation - during which it actually doubled - which had not happened before with the triticale dough.

It was a mess to shape and my shaping flaws probably influenced the crumb , but it doubled nicely in the pan.

I baked it for 35 minutes at 375F and for the first time in my experience with triticale dough, got some oven spring.

The results are pictured below. 

Not shredibly soft or fluffy, but for a near whole grain flour of a grain that is considered inferior  for bread baking - not bad at all.  Although light can shine through the slice, it was sturdy and stood up to handling and soft butter. I should have included something to show scale, but it is a nicely sized slice for a sandwich.

I am informed that my new shipment of triticale is winging its way to me as I type and I'll be able to continue this general track of baking.  Next time I will lower the hydration somewhat  (to take the hydration of the honey into better account)and give it a longer bulk ferment with a fold.  In general I don't feel the need to do intensive mix for these panned breads and the Mixograph readings tell me that I can over-mix very quickly, so I don't think I will be increasing mix length by much, if at all.

As an aside, some of my reading tells me that triticale was once considered an acceptable bread grain and was widely used in the North American West, but the structure of farm subsidies encouraged wheat production and triticale became less used for human consumption and because of its high yields and superior protein content was used for more for animal feed.  It forces me to think about how policies determined in some far away corridor of power can impact what we eat and how we think of things.

I am more encouraged on the triticale quest than I ever have been.  People keep remarking that the bread is unusually delicious.  Time to get cracking on some real formula development.

 Well, you know.

Although I went into some detail with my panned bread recipe (which has stabilized at my last published formula (or can get snazzed up with the addition of 12-15% each of toasted chopped walnuts and prunes) I've been working up other formulas and channeling Richard Blais - ever unhappy with my baguettes -  I have been tweaking formulas that others might call successful.

Last weekend things seemed to go well.

My first bake was a variation on the "Bear-guettes" formula where I took the hydration up to a (for me) stratospheric 70%.  I was unhappy with the results of the non retarded dough, but given a long cold stay in the refrigerator and then warmed up at room temperature for a couple of hours, the dough was supple and easy to handle.

I always cut a baguette in half and then in half lengthwise as a drive time snack for my faithful limo driver and when I saw it, I just had to take a quick snap as I ran out the door to catch my plane.

The formula is simplicity itself. (In my browser I do not seem to be able to create the all important borders and shading, so I am breaking up these formulas into non-standard format)

Pre ferments

Hand mix.

Allow 12-14 hours to ripen.

Final dough

Mix to shaggy mass and autolyse for 45 minutes.

Mix in spiral (or by hand) to moderate development  - 3 minutes.

Allow to stand at room temperature for 30 minutes.

Refrigerate overnight. (I actually divide this into 2 baguette sized chunk to allow it to warm more quickly in the morning)

 Remove from refrigerator.

Allow to warm to room temperature (2-3 hours)

Divide (I divide into 6 pieces)

Pre shape round

Shape baguette

Proof 1.25- 1.5 hours

Score

Bake with steam 5 minutes at 500F then 12 minutes at 460F with convection.

The other formula I have been working on I describe as "Country Bread."  While the classic baguette limits us to a very strict list of ingredients and shapes, I wanted to make a bread that had a more varied list of ingredients and perhaps a different shape.

One thing that I began to think about was making a bread with a more distinct sour flavor.  My levain lives "free range" and is fed at least once a day. My house sitter feeds it when I am away and it does not undergo the indignity of being left in a refrigerator until it is cold and sad and creates hooch.  As a result, it is a very mild levain.  What I found out was that by using it with a rye pre ferment, I could get a sour flavor.  I finally got a formula to my liking which is presented below.

Overall formula

Note that I am using Bread Flour - this does not work as well with all purpose flour - even King Arthur All Purpose

Both my rye and whole wheat flours are freshly ground.

Pre ferments

Mix by hand and allow to mature 12-14 hours

Final Dough

Note that there is no additional yeast - this is not a typo...

Mix to shaggy mass and autolyse 45 minutes.

Mix with spiral for 7 minutes to good gluten development

Bulk ferment 5 hours total - one fold at 2.5 hours

Divide (I make 3 pieces)

Pre shape rounds

Shape batards

1.5 hours proof.

Score.

Bake with steam 10 minutes at 480F and then 20 minutes at 460F with convection.

The photo...

Last, but not least, I was looking over my old formula spreadsheet and comparing it to the BBGA standard.  My old spreadsheet took the amount of the seed used in the levain into account as part of the % of flour pre fermented - the BBGA standard does not. While this keeps the math much simpler, it causes the actual amounts of flour pre fermented to be understated vs. my method.

I've been thinking quite a bit about the impact of my altitude on baked goods in general and decided to drop the amount of flour pre fermented in my baguettes to  7% in the polish and 5% in the levain.

Frankly, I wasn't quite happy with the timings on this formula (which had me loading the oven at 9PM after an 8 AM start on the mix) but the results were nice without having to do a retarded ferment.  I may be on to something...

I'll leave the formula as a math exercise for the reader  (and those of you who bake at lower than Mile High altitudes may wish to skip this entirely), but here is the money shot...

I have a list of formulas that I want to develop this year and for the next bit I will be working on multigrain and "seedy/nutty" bread.  We'll see how that goes.

Once again Captain Kirk has saved the Federation.  A new shipment of quadrotriticale will be delivered to  Sherman's Planet.  But how are they to eat it?  Yes, it can be cooked liked rice or flaked and cooked into porridge.  But what if the good people of Sherman's Planet want sammiches?  What are they to do?

In the spirit of "never give up - never surrender" (uh - a different space epic) I am determined to create a formula to bake triticale bread. Thinking over the dense but tender crumb of an earlier try and determined to apply things that I have learned about dealing with less than "perfect" wheat varieties, I formulated a plan.  I was thinking a mildly enriched bread baked in a pan.  The Bob's Red Mill folks suggested treating the dough like wheat dough except letting it rise only once, shape, proof and bake.  I remembered that the dough really behaved like a rye dough and pondered that I should not do the first rise, but considered that the miller should know.

The formula is as follows:

As you can see from the formula, I decided to preferment what is, for me, a very high percentage of the total flour in a firm levain.  I chose a levain so that the higher acid would bring some strength to the dough and a firm preferment, again, to bring strength rather than extensibility.

I also loaded the dough up with yeast, so that I would get as rapid a rise as possible.  I would depend on the pre ferment for flavor.

I milled the triticale to a fine, whole grain flour in three passes on the Diamant.

I mixed the pre ferment by hand and allowed it to mature about 10 hours.

Since this was a small batch, I pressed the mighty Kitchen Aide back into bread making service.  I am the type of person who has a sensitivity to pitch - and I will have to say that after some time with My Precioussss, the KA sounded like a little buzzing insect.  There was a time when I considered the KA to be a powerful mixer (and really, it sort of is) - what a long strange trip...

Anyway, the dough actually came together quite nicely, but always had the putty like quality of a rye. I don't particularly enjoy that feel but am starting to get used to it (I'd better - I really need to gather myself together and practice rye bread  - or bring shame upon myself later this year....)

Even with all the yeast, it took two hours of bulk ferment to get the dough to double.  Honestly, looking at the risen dough it had a nice, open quality.  For triticale, that is. 

I shaped the dough an put it into a high sided Pullman pan - brought back from Okinawa.

I allowed it to proof until double - 2 hours.  At that time the dough seemed exhausted and I popped it into a 375F oven for about 45 minutes.

As before, when I had proofed it much less (Oh, I don't write up everything I do...), the dough had zero oven spring.

What amazes me about triticale is the aroma.  The plumbing crew fixing up my bathroom plumbing kept telling me how great the house smelled.

The next day, sliced, I had reasonably sturdy bread with a sweet taste and that fine, tender triticale crumb - as pictured below.

I keep mulling over how much more open the texture was after the bulk ferment and have pretty much convinced myself that next time I will treat the dough like a rye and give more of a rest before shaping and capture all of that rise in the proof.  Rye bakers - advice welcome.

The taste - delicious.  Triticale is delicious and I don't know why it is so neglected.

The good people of Sherman's Planet will have sammiches today...

 (Apologies to Jimmy Buffett)

One of the many objectives of the formula development project is to gain understanding of the baking process.  I have found that nothing beats working with the same general dough over and over, with very minor variations to understand the impact of various elements of the baking process.

So when comments on my last entry wound around to "intensive mix" vs. "improved mix" and the somewhat weak crumb of my last loaf, I really wanted to give them full consideration.

I may have mentioned elsewhere on these pages that my so called "normal" life contains, as a major feature, participating in the "security theatre" that is enjoying a long run in airports near you. Leaving discussion of the politics aside, it does provide me with long spaces of time where thoughts can roam free and it is wisest and best that they stray far from my actual circumstances and focus on something more pleasant - like bread.

I was idly mulling over intensive mix, when in one of those spooky out of body experiences that the doctors at The Place worry about -  The Voice in My Head (known also as "my teacher")  came rushing in on me. (It has been too long since I actually worked with "my teacher" - a situation to be remedied this year when I may be pushing it to overkill - and believe me, if you don't think I am studying and practicing in preparation for this - then I have not expressed myself well on these pages.  This frenzied activity could explain a lot.)

"Pat, please tell me two ways to achieve dough development."

"One is through the action of the mixer and another is through time - that is the time spent in bulk fermentation - and folds, sensei."

"And beyond the ingredients what produces flavor in bread?"

"Time and folds, sensei."

"What have I said about intensive mix?"

"That it is fine for panned breads where all one wants is to achieve is volume and one doesn't care about flavor, sensei."

"And why would someone who uses intensive mix see no value in a bulk ferment?"

"Because the dough is fully developed coming off the mix and many of the carotenoid pigments have been destroyed by the oxidation of the mixing process, so the bulk ferment is essentially working with damaged goods, sensei."

"Is intensive mix ever appropriate?"

"Yes, yes it is, but it will be a different style of bread than those made with longer fermentation times, sensei."

"Speaking of volume - what does bread do best at high altitudes?"

"Rises and achieves volume often collapsing in the oven since it rises higher than the baked supporting structure can sustain - forcing us to deliberately reduce the rising,  sensei."

"What must be perfect?"

"Everything, sensei?"

"You sound like you are asking."

"Everything, sensei."

"You know what to do. Bake and evaluate."

Coming to with my hands above my head and a TSA officer telling me that I could go stand on the mat, I knew what I must do.

Later, at home, giving the evening pizza crust a good twirl (my teacher once told me that this was a skill that s/he lacked and so I became obsessed with learning to twirl pizza crust) and reflecting that I had brought it to full twirl worthy development with nothing but time and some strokes with a plastic scraper, I reflected that there are indeed many ways to achieve a well developed dough.

On the formula development front, I wanted to add an inclusion in the dough and had settled on flax seed.  I'm a big fan of flax - it being the thing that produces my favorite cloth - and this bread being a reflection of my favorite things; it seemed to be the logical choice.

I had some golden flax seed in the pantry and decided to use that.  I created a soaker that seemed for all the world to be "hydration neutral" - it released no water when I put it in a sieve and seemed to have no droplets in the container that held it.  Alas, as I added it to the mix, it did release some water and the dough hydration changed just a bit. Not enough ruin the dough, but definitely a change.  Truly, I will be asking questions on this concept in the near future.

I also decided to use bread flour (not high gluten flour) as a way to produce a somewhat tougher crumb - although I regret this decision because I will now have to go back and test the formula with all purpose flour, anyway.  It would be cheap and easy to just call for bread flour, but as I have told many clients - I'm easy, but I'm not cheap.

I mixed the dough for the six minutes that I had mixed it before - I feel that I might be able to mix it less, but I realize that My Precioussss is somewhat under loaded with this volume of dough and its efficiency is somewhat less at that load.  I also wanted to recheck my dough development at this timing for the mix to satisfy myself that last week's crumb was not a result of poor dough development.  It was a sufficiently developed at six minutes.  No, it did not create the glove like windowpane as required by the shredibly soft loaf, but this dough is full of oat flakes and steel cut oats and these are going to keep that type of windowpane from forming no matter how long I mixed.  The dough development was fine, and next time I will actually mix a bit less.

What I did do was degas the dough better and put a little more muscle into my shaping. I also watched the proof very carefully and didn't try to compensate for pan size by proofing longer.

The golden flax seed no doubt added some nutrition to the bread and did create a subtle and pleasant taste change, but it didn't create the hoped for "pretty bread."   The crumb, however, was firm enough to hold a rather overstuffed grilled cheese and salsa sandwich, so I think I'll (sort of) be declaring victory on getting the crumb right by getting the shaping and proofing right. 

As I said before, now the work begins.  I will be switching out the golden flaxseed for regular flaxseed next week and have high hopes that I will get me my pretty bread at last.  But now I have to understand if I can use all purpose flour, get exact mixing times, get a better read on the soakers -and get exact weights for each type of pan and each type of shape that I wish to make.  This is tedious in the extreme and I will probably suspend my posting on this until I can organize a tasting to compare the original- original and a couple of versions of my variations. I don't know if my version will "sell out at bake sales" yet, but as I taste it, it has that elusive quality of "balance." I can taste the molasses in the bread, but I can also taste the grain- it has little crunchies, but I don't fear breaking a tooth.  If anything, the crumb is a little too light (although it passed the spread butter and the gloppy sandwich test) but by no means unacceptable. I've got a niggling little voice telling me I need to mill a lot more triticale and get to that ill conceived experiment of a high percent of pre fermented flour,  some yeast and a pan and gardening/pond cleaning season is fast approaching - so plenty of other things to do while I make tedious small tweaks.

Pictures and formula follow.

Prepare the soaker -  allow to soak 12 hours

Prepare the pre ferment - allow to mature 12 hours

Pour the boiling water over the two types of oats and allow to cool to lukewarm

Combine all ingredients except the soaker and mix 6 minutes in one speed spiral (or to moderate development by any means desired.)

Add soaker and mix only until combined (I did this mostly by hand).

Bulk ferment 4 hours - one fold

Shape

Proof 1 hour

Place in oven at 375F - immediately decrease temp to 360F and bake 45-50 minutes (I actually bake about 45 minutes and then remove the bread from the pan, return it to the oven, and bake 5 minutes - more as this gives a nicer crust on the sides - but this will be one of those minor tedious tweaks.)

Remove from pans and cool.

Have Fun!

Added by edit:  I was just reflecting on the process and looked at a picture of the bread at the beginning.  I thought I would post it here so the contrast was evident.  Hardly the same loaf at all!

I may have mentioned somewhere in passing on these pages that I have a koi pond in my backyard.  It is a beautiful and peaceful thing in the warmer months, but can be just a little grim in the clutches of a Rocky Mountain winter and fatalities among the inhabitants can occur.  Since I am an omnivore, I try to be unsentimental about this, but there are always two factors that come into play in any fish death.  One, even though fish must die some time, as with all living things, I always feel that it has been some failure on my part to provide them with the right environment that caused their demise.  Two, these are not small fish.  Death involves finding a place and digging a fairly large hole to dispose of the remains. Pulling the body from the water in winter conditions cannot accurately be described as being easy.

So it was with sinking heart that I saw the tail of one of my 10 year old fish projecting from the rocks at the edge of the pond moving limply with the movement of the water.  Thinking there was little I could do, I went about more urgent business and mulled over where the burial would take place.  It seemed like the coldness of the water had preserved it well and the death had been recent since the scales still had a sheen to them.

My house sitter dropped by to tell me a fish had been missing for three days. As we surveyed the protruding tail, I saw real movement.  "That fish is alive," I said, "But stuck in the rocks." (Koi are not over intelligent, but they do have creative ways of getting into jams that will eventually do them in.) Without a moment's hesitation I lifted the heavy blocks that hold down the winter netting and began to remove rocks.  The pond is a beautiful thing to look at, but was not built with rock moving in mind.  Rock moving has to be done with one hand - one hand in water that in some places was still crusted with ice.  If you wish to try this at home, take a large bucket of water and drop in a rock about the size of your head.  Let the water stand in a warm sunny area until surfaces are uniformly covered in algae.  Then chill the bucket until a crust of ice forms.  Break through the ice with your non-dominant hand and attempt to pick up the rock.  Imagine that if you drop the rock you will crush the life out of the creature you were trying to save.  Let me know how it turns out.  For bonus points have a small cut on one finger.

In the end, the rocks were moved, the fish spent a few moments collecting itself, and then simply swam away to join its buddies.  They're tough little spuds.  My finger got some extra special attention (the infections one can get from pond water are many and can be quite nasty) and is recovering nicely. 

Life - Death - Life, again.  A miracle on the pond.

So what does this have to do with formula development?  Well, a second miracle occurred at the Crumbled Abode on that day.  I really liked the flavor of my developing formula.  With the formula math corrected it turned out to be a lovely balanced bread with both the flavor of the grain and the sweetness of the molasses.  I even liked the color which with the return of the molasses had turned back from tan to brown (which is not really shown well in the picture.)  I really think that I have achieved contentment with the base ingredients. Perfection?  No.  But contentment. Yes, the doctors at "The Place" would call it a miracle.

The crumb remains a bit too fragile, but I am still reluctant to try higher gluten flour.  Examining a loaf that I had shaped using a different method, I am convinced for now that the fault, dear readers lies not in our gluten, but in ourselves.  After years of light handed shaping, I think I am not putting enough oomph into forming the simple loaf.  Also I transitioned to a larger pan at some point during my formula addling and I may be over proofing to compensate. Perhaps I will need to beat myself up for a few weeks over this until I give in and use bread flour or high gluten flour or perhaps I will just give in and steal from the best sooner rather than later, but I don't want to turn this bread into a chewy textured bread.  (Geez, back to struggling to get the crumb right...)  If anything, though, this bread rises too well and the crumb is too airy - which would seem to indicate that gluten itself is not a problem.

But contentment with the base flavor frees me to consider inclusions.  This bread already has some visible inclusions in the form of the steel cut oats and I don't want to turn this into seedy, nutty bread, but I think it could use just a little jazzing up in the form of another inclusion.  Since the mighty Diamant stands ready, there are any number of cracked grains to consider.  I've thought about millet - which is something I used to add to a beer flavored quick bread, but I'm not sure I want the crunch.  Although I know that nuts would be flavorful, again, I am reluctant to put them in a sandwich loaf.  I kind of feel the same way about dried fruits (although I ponder that once I get the base dough right loading it up in this way would be a tasty variation.)  Well, I have time to consider.

This week's formula:

Mix pre ferment and allow to ripen 8-12 hours

Pour boiling water over the two types of oats and allow to cool to lukewarm.

Combine oats and pre ferment with the remaining ingredients and mix for 6 minutes on the sole speed of a spiral mixer (or use your preferred mixing method) 

Bulk ferment 4 hours at room temperature (warmer this week...). One fold.

Shape. Proof 1.5 hours.  Bake at 360F for 45 minutes.

Have fun!