proth5's blog

 Yes, yes, I know that now that my life has resumed its "normal" rhythm, I should get back to baking.  (And I did do a pretty good first bake in the new oven - which was eaten before pictures could be taken - but which showed me just how many adjustments I was making for my old oven and what kind of better results I might get with one that actually works.) But believe it or not I had never been to Las Vegas and in one of those jet lagged induced flights of fantasy that I sometimes get, I had booked the tickets and registered for some lectures, and well, here I am at the IBIE (International Baking Industry Exposition.)

Sadly, in my quick turnaround at home, I packed my bags with the standard "four day domestic commute" accoutrements - which does not include a camera.  I'm sure that official photos will soon be available and they will be much better than those I could have taken (not that it's hard to take better pictures than I do...)  We all have lost opportunities to deplore.

My primary mission today was to cheer on the USA Baking Team at the Louis LeSaffre Cup.  For those of you who don't follow this closely (Mark!) this is the preliminary competition that decides which two countries from the Americas region will compete at La Coupe du Monde de la Boulangerie at Europain in 2012.  As you recall, the US placed out of the top three last Coupe (you are all keeping track of this, right?) and instead of getting an automatic ticket to Paris, needs to compete its way back.

IBIE is first and foremost, though, a trade show and there are always ripping good things to see.  With all apologies and with due respect to those who see bread baking as a spiritual quest, I just love the big machines with the robotic arms that automatically mix, shape, and with the aid of tiny water jets even slash breads before conveying them to the oven.  I could watch those big machines all day.  While the artisan in me is suspicious of the bread that they produce, the engineer in me just thinks "Cool."

On my way back to the competition area, I passed the LeSaffre Yeast booth, where a very nice man gave me a one pound brick of LeSaffre's new "High Power" instant yeast.  That should be interesting to try.  The same very nice man also gave me a several lifetime's supply of plastic scrapers (and those who really know me know that I will travel vast distances and attend expensive classes just to get a free plastic dough scraper.)

I also scored a chocolate covered brownie - on a stick - from the Callebaut booth.

But, on to the competition.  Team USA is:

Michael Zakowski - Bread

Jeremy Gadouas - Viennese pastry

Harry Peemoeller - Artistic piece

Today team USA, Team Canada, and team Mexico were baking.  One of the advantages of attending these competitions is that one gets to see and taste the output from bakers who are at the top of their craft.

By applying my talent for infinite patience, I managed standing room within feet of the judging area and very near to that legend of baking Christian Vabret.  I will have to say that it was a bit unthinking of the event organizers not to provide M. Vabret with a translator.  Although I understood him, I could see him become visibly discouraged that so few people comprehended what he was saying.  He deserves better.  I was also puzzled that with Canada and Brazil in the competition that materials and signage were in English and Spanish only.  Oh, well.

I'd have to say as a completely unbiased spectator that Team USA rocked!!!

Team Canada's (and Mexico's) and Team USA's breads were very different in style.  Mr. Zakowski tends to bake his breads very boldly and includes a small amount of levain pre ferment even in his baguettes.  Tasting is believing.  I need to give some serious thought to bolder baking (now that I have an oven that works) and the hybrid baguette. 

Mr. Gadouas' pastries were excellent.

Mr. Peemoeller produced an artistic piece celebrating the role of immigrants in the diversity of America and its breads.  He included a highly abstracted version of the Statue of Liberty( with the flame made from a piece of croissant), a silk screen on dead dough version of the Declaration of Independence and a laminated live dough Constitution along with many examples of breads and allusions to the hard work building this country that was done by immigrants.  It was brilliant.  The two French gentlemen behind me remarked on the irony that the great symbol of America was really French.  But I think that's what Mr. Peemoeller (with an accent that makes one think he might have moved to the US from somewhere else) was really trying to say.  That America has the ability to take the best of the world and shake it up until it is all part of our identity.  (I spent a lot of time watching the Armed Forces Network - I break out in public service announcements sometimes.)  Which goes to show the power of his bread creation, that it actually could move one to deeper thought.  It rocked!

Canada is a strong contender also, with really delicious pastries.  M. Dumonceaux, who did the pastries made pain au chocolat where he laminated a cocoa butter and cocoa layer right into the dough (plus added the chocolate batons.)  That was just too much (and I mean that in a good way.)

Sorry, but your feckless correspondent could stand no longer and left before Mexico's breads were judged.

For the individual looking for deck ovens for the home, Team USA had a Miwe Condo deck oven.  It was extremely compact and had a mini loader integrated into the oven design (sooooooo cool...).  I have spoken to an individual who has a Miwe in his RV.  This seems interesting.  I will go to the Miwe booth tomorrow.

But hey, I'm in Las Vegas!  Enough of this blogging stuff - someone get me a martooni!

Oh, not to TFL.

It was only a week ago that I bid farewell to Okinawa and "my" Marines.  Yes, I was working with the Marines - other details must remain fuzzy, but this one is pretty much out in the open now. It still cuts a little too close to the bone to think about those fine young men and women each one ready and willing to fight "in every clime and place where (they) can take a gun."  War is a terrible thing - but the dedication of these Marines is something for which all US citizens should be grateful.

And I will always "heart" Okinawa. My last big shopping trip into Naha was to the Ryubo to buy items that I can incorporate into my kitchen.  They are all teeny tiny (as is my kitchen - by US standards.)

So I was fortunate to have a week rusticating at my crumbled abode before returning to the demands of my so-called "normal" life.

Seemed liked to perfect time to buy a new range.  I've come to terms that in my current residence, the deck oven is just not realistic and so I settled on a simple KitchenAid convection gas range.  No, no steam assist.

So I am saying farewell to my favorite frenemy - my old range.  I'm getting a bit sentimental about that, too.  I stirred up one last batch of jam and thought of the countless batches of jams, jellies, pickles, caramels, and marshmallows (as well as meals) that were cooked on those burners.  The ones that I had to blow on just right to get to light.  Maybe.  Whose electronic ignition would mysteriously start clicking for no particular reason and stop clicking days or hours later for similarly mysterious reasons.  (The repairman finally told me "Lady, I'm not taking your money.  Get a new range."  It came with the house and was old when I moved in - over 20 years ago.)

Then there was the oven whose every hot spot I knew by heart, until recently when it decided to not bake anything towards the front.  True, it had also started to perform better as a space heater than an oven and the broiler had long since ceased to function.  However, it had been a good old pal and it seemed like I should give it a final bake. (Yes, I have seen the Ikea ad that tells me that I am crazy because things don't have feelings and the new one is better - but I'm in a delicate state of mind.)  So I decided to do a little test on this new "Pizza Crust" yeast.

Fleischmann's Yeast has been promoting this product as allowing one to bake a pizza in 30 minutes because of the conditioners in the packet.  Well, heating the old oven takes more time that that, but except for that, I could test the claim.

I also decided to do the test using the formula on the package because presumably Fleischmann's had spent some money developing the right formula for the application.  I won't reproduce it here as - well, you'll see.

I did note that the formula contained a lot of sugar (1.5 tsp for less than 2 cups of flour ) (and yes, we'll need to deal with volumes here) and a lot of fat (3 tbl of oil) The ingredients were mixed and kneaded for four minutes and then shaped immediately. 

I will have to say that the dough handled quite nicely.  The dough stretched out easily even though it had not rested at all and maintained itself well through a few tosses.  I'm thinking that these dough conditioners now sorely tempt me - especially if the dough was headed for decorative work where taste doesn't matter.

The pizza was shaped, topped and with the aid, of a piece of parchment paper (which I consider serious cheating) because the dough seemed a bit too flabby to be loaded straight from the peel,  loaded onto my baking stone, and baked.

The taste?

About like you'd expect.  The crust had an odd matte appearance and tasted mostly slightly sweet.  It had a fine crumb with none of those big bubbles I usually find in my pizza crust (both levain and commercial yeast varieties).  Really, though, how could it be otherwise?  We all know that it is the fermentation process that gives us the big holey crumb and this dough didn't ferment except for the time it took me to put the toppings on it.  It wasn't awful - it just wasn't good.  The texture was also somewhat lacking.  The crust was - solid, but not crisp.

The speed with which the whole thing came together also was incompatible with my mise en place.  I'm used to having that rest time between pre-shaping and shaping to get toppings together or make sure my work area has been cleaned.

I also find that I enjoy the whole rhythm of the "fold in the bowl" method of developing the dough to traditional kneading.  I've kneaded a lot of dough in my time and I'm still pretty good at it, but the fold in the bowl method is just so much less effort - less cleanup, too.

So, my opinion?  There's a place in this world for fast, from scratch pizza.  You've got hungry kids yelling for pizza?  This is a great product.  You have a pizza that is easily shaped and you have it in 30 minutes start to finish.  Most kids will love the sweetness in the crust and eat it down.  You want something that reminds you of that trip to Italy?  This is not it.

I am sure that the yeast could be used in different formulas to obtain better results (and there was a review on these pages that liked the yeast and the method very much), but the bottom line for me is that I missed the subtle qualities that good fermentation brings to the party.  I'd rather plan ahead and enjoy my usual crust - or go without.

As I write, my old range is headed out the door and a new one is headed in.  I'm looking at a picture of "my" Marines and frankly getting a bit misty.  But life goes on.  We grow or die.  How fortunate I am to have the memories that I do and a future full of memories to be made.

Happy Baking!

We've seen it before - a person goes "missing" on TFL.

But I'm still out here and kicking. Just not baking.

My time in Okinawa "morphed" just a bit and I'm still commuting across the Pacific.  I've already survived earthquakes and tsunamis and now am looking forward (not) to typhoon season.  It's a beautiful place, but it has a lot of ways to kill you (won't even mention the snakes, spiders, and cone shells -oops, I did...)

I managed to ship quite a bit of Okinawan flour to that property that I own in the US, but alas, have not managed to pack it up and ship it to the lab for testing.  My theory is that the ash content is lacking, thus these beautiful but bland breads.  Really, I will get to it soon... Inquiring minds want to know.

To all of you who are baking beautiful breads, I say "Nice breads!" but understand that even when I get home time is so short (and stuff to do so much!) that baking is difficult and the baking deprivation is hitting me hard.

I did go to an upscale department store on Kokusai street where one of my colleagues had to pull me away from watching the baker slash breads  (with the very same tool I use...) and use a very ingeneous folding loader to load them in the oven.  I'm sure he was quite alarmed by the big blonde woman who practically walked into the tiny space near the oven, but was too polite to give any clear indication of it.  We did try the bread there which had the most taste of any I have tried in Okinawa.

I am no stranger to being set down in places where the culture is different and I don't speak the language, but this has been quite an adventure.  They tell me I'll be back in the US for good - soon.  Although I've heard that before :>)  When the time comes for the summing up, I feel that I will never be quite the same.  Some things I will be able to talk about then - others not.

So, best wishes to Norm and his test bakers (I knew I wasn't going to be able to do that...), happy milling to all you new (and old) home millers, and don't worry - although breadless, I am happily nourished on Okinawan soba and sticky rice!

Oh, and - I'll be back!

Pat

Lest any of you consider that my life is all flights across the Pacific and raw squid for breakfast, I recently found myself in driving (in my little green convertible - top down - adorned with my "I Love Okinawa" magnet) from Colorado's Front Range to the great wheat growing region of Kansas for a tour of the Heartland Mill in Marienthall, KS.

Some of you may know Heartland Mill (www.heartlandmill.com) as the producer of Golden Buffalo flour -  a high extraction organic flour.  And so here comes the first of my shameless plugs.  Heartland Mill mills a variety of flours - all organic - either stone ground or on their long-flow roller mill. They also produce oat products and sell whole grains.  Why shamelessly plug them? Because the mill is farmer owned and they are very interested in producing flours that support the artisan bread baking community .  I believe in supporting businesses like these that can make decisions not only on profitability (as I am a great believer in making a profit) but on what they think will support their employees and their community.  So that's my first plug.  If you are interested, they sell directly to the consumer - their small bags are very lovely cloth bags - for use after emptying for small sewing projects. 

So I will now give the second  of my shameless plugs.  This tour was sponsored by the Bread Baker's Guild of America (BBGA)  (www.bbga.org) (Hello, Laverne!  It's me again!) without whose hard work I would not have had such a marvelous opportunity.  I have said before that the educational opportunities they provide are well worth the membership fee - even for this raggedy home baker - and I mean it sincerely.  So, that being said, I don't think it is fair to try and write a "tell-all" of the tour because I don't want to give the impression that folks who hunger for this kind of education just need to wait long enough and I will post it all here, and that there is no need to join.  I support a lot of their efforts and membership fees support those.

But some highlights are well worth sharing with other bread baking and milling enthusiasts.

First, for all that I have been out and about in the world, my travels have neglected actual drives through what is often referred to as "the flyover zone."  Since my trip started from Denver in the pre-dawn hours, I got to see the sun rising over the fields of Eastern Colorado, the magenta clouds reaching down to the frost covered fields, a gentle mist making the entire scene something out of a fantasy.  Yes, our mountains are beautiful, but I have never been so struck by the beauty of our plains.  I believe someone once wrote a song about it.

Then I hit the great wheat growing region.  For those of you in coastal states, or countries with less acreage, the scale of these farms is quite striking.  They are immense.   Not big, not really big - immense.  I was not exactly driving slowly and it took quite a while to drive between any areas where I could spot houses.    I cannot help but wonder how these immense farms could ever become the small farms that so many food enthusiasts promote, but this trip was not about that.

After five hours of driving, I arrived at Heartland Mill. it is a very small operation both in size and staffing.  Their head miller said that he had no particular expertise but was just "an old farm boy."  I instinctively put my hand to my wallet... :>)  They had the mills shut down so we could both tour the mill and talk.  (So sorry about no pictures, but not only are my photography skills not up to the task, but only pictures by the official photographer were allowed. ) 

We talked a great deal about the millstones themselves.  There is a type of millstone called a French millstone that is constructed of stones that are only 2 hardness points softer than diamonds.  What was discussed was that this type of millstone (which is not yet in operation in the mill) will produce a caramelization of the flour that is the "ultimate" in flour taste - or so it is according to B.W. Dedrick's "Practical Milling". Also interesting is that this type of millstone is not a monolith, but is pieced together so that there the hardness and composition of the stone is more consistent.

We then moved on to the stone milling area where we took a look at the Meadows mills.   To get their high extraction flour, Heartland is milling in one pass and bolting the flour (through a number 40 mesh sieve).  Of course I had to ask questions about this.  They found that grinding un tempered wheat (9-10% moisture) was most successful, but then the miller similarly claimed that it was a characteristic of stone milling itself that made this possible.  No one seems think about burr milling with steel, but our exchanges lead me to believe that my approach of treating my process similar to the roller milling process might (and I emphasize "might") be a good one.

We also discussed stone milling vs. roller milling and how the difference in the processes might influence the flavor profile of the flour. While there is one school of thought that the stones themselves impart a better flavor, Craig Ponsford put out the thought that the fact that the parts of the grain were never separated (as they are in roller milling) created a better flavor profile.  All were in agreement that in blind tests, bread made with stone ground flour tasted "better."

We also had an interesting discussion about the words "stone ground" when applied to flour and how various labeling regulations made it imperative to "know your miller" so that you know that the flour was really 100% stone ground, not just run through stones to meet the labeling requirements.

We went over the tempering process (for roller milling) in detail.  I have some things to think about...

The long flow roller mill is run at speeds where the flour comes off "cool."  They had experimented with milling very "un aggressively" and found that they did not create enough starch damage in the flour for it to be used in baking. 

We talked a bit about aging flour.  The maxim of "use right away or wait two weeks" was discussed.  Thom Leonard tells me that this is true - because there is enzymatic action that takes place soon (but not immediately) after milling that will impact baking qualities until oxidation takes place.  However, we also discussed that for whole wheat flours this impact is negligible and that he has used whole wheat flour at various ages with little impact on the final product. (Thom- if you are listening in, please log in and fill in the exact details - there are people here who want to know...)

On the whole, I came away with the feeling that I have a lot more research to do on milling and that that even though I have taken a lot of factors into account in my process, I have a lot more things to consider.

We then spent a little time in the lab to watch the alveograph.   I've read a lot about these tests and how to interpret them, but I've never seen the thing in operation.  Essentially this machine blows a bubble (think bubble gum) from a specially prepared disk of dough and measures the pressure required to blow the bubble and the time it takes the bubble to burst.  If you've made it this far in the blog, and you are not familiar with this test, you need to look up source material in any one of the excellent books available to home bakers that discuss rheological testing for flour.  In short, the pressure gives an indication of elasticity and the time an indicator of extensibility.  We, as home bakers, care about this because it is the perfect balance of extensibility and elasticity that give us well shaped, but open crumbed breads that we so seek.  (More about this later.)  The importance of the results of this test cannot be overemphasized (for white flours - the bran in whole wheat flours cuts the gluten so that the bubble pops prematurely).  I want one of those bad boys.  Bad. (They talk about "boys and their toys" - I'm possibly worse - and for those that don't know - I'm a girl.)

At lunch I had the opportunity to chat with P. Stephen Baenziger of the University of Nebraska.  He works on selective breeding and improving small grains (including my favorite - triticale.  "You probably haven't heard of it," he said.  "Actually, I've milled it and baked with it...").  We talked about the local heirloom wheat - Red Turkey.  We discussed that while these heirloom breeds try to keep their genetic lines pure, the various diseases that attack them keep evolving and eventually a once disease resistant variety needs to be crossed with other plants to produce reliably, especially in an organic situation (heirloom breed enthusiasts - hold off!  He is dealing with very, very large commercial operations.  Results on a smaller scale will be different.) I did have to agree with him somewhat because my own experience with heirloom plants in my home garden (which sometimes gets less than optimal care because of my work/travel schedule) has been very similar and I've begun to love my hybrids for reliable, yet still tasty production.

We did have a more formal presentation on wheat breeding and what it takes to get a new breed to the point where it can be released for large scale planting.  Now here is where even I began to glaze over a bit, for truthfully little me and little you (unless "little you" are a professional artisan baker) have little influence in this process.  But the overall takeaway was pretty profound.  He discussed that various strains of wheat - that might have better baking qualities for the artisan baker - were being abandoned because there is no perceived market for them.  In the context of a BBGA educational event, the discussion wound around to how such an organization can change this (back to the second shameless plug.)

We talked a bit about alveograph tests and how to compensate for a flour that was not ideal.  Here's where I want to put some emphasis - yes, hydration was mentioned (proper fermentation is a given in this company) - but another factor for correcting flour properties was the amount of flour pre fermented.  I found this out for myself when I was tuning up my baguette formula, but it gets very little play on these pages - I wish it would get more.

This winds me around to our last discussion.  We talked a bit about "protein levels" in wheat and how American bakers are all about the absolute number and not how the flour actually performs under the conditions of artisan bakers.  Professional bakers who have baked in Europe expressed that the absolute protein number was not as important as how the flour acted as far as its baking qualities.  Unfortunately the industry accepted tests are not designed for the kind of breads being produced by artisan bakers.  It was expressed that Heartland would like to mill these lower protein flours, but there is no market for them because bakers have been trained to look for certain protein numbers.  A lot of this was discussed within the context of how the BBGA might help, but my takeaway was this: It is not that Europe is a superior place to produce wheat; it is not that we don't have wonderful millers; it is that there is no perceived market for these flours.   I have considered this for a long time.  Maybe it was the sight of those immense fields of wheat.  North America is a great place to grow wheat - but we, as consumers and bakers don't show enough demand for these flours to make production economically viable.  Back to my shameless plug - here is where organizations like BBGA can make changes.

(I also had a lively discussion about the difference in economic incentives for small businesses/farms in Europe/Canada vs. the US, but do- not - get - me - started. Really.)

My last memorable quip was a gentleman who asked me why a raggedy home baker would know so many technical details about wheat, milling, and flour.  "Was it that your bread didn't turn out well and you decided to find out why?"  "No, I was always a pretty good baker," I replied.  "The bread was always good.  It's just that I - can't - help - myself."

I decided rather than stay for the dinner that I had spent enough time away from home and drove back to watch the sun set over the Rockies.  To wrap up this long, long post, as I drove I pondered that this had been one of the most satisfying days that I had had in a long time. (A long drive on clear roads in nice weather in a sports car might have had something to do with it, but the mill tour played a large part.)  And I thought of those words uttered by that most famous Kansas girl:

"...if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with.."

Dorothy Gale

Happy Baking!

As some of you know I have been working on Okinawa and not been home since early February.  Well, I ended up staying longer than I had planned and the pace of worked picked up.  Not being able to bake, I thought I would at least start a new starter.

I haven't had to start a starter for a long time, but quickly read up on the process and it did seem familiar.  The question was that of flour. 

With some grumbling that if I were just at home I could grind up some fresh whole wheat and maybe spike it with a little fresh rye, I resolved that I would need to purchase flour - so to market I went.

I can now go so far as to reveal that my work has been among folks who pretty much only speak English and that by working with these folks I have access to stores where you can buy American brands (if you know what I mean).  Being short of time and Japanese language skills (lessons put on hold so that I might work long days) I found, not my good old KA, but an American name brand "organic" white flour and a name brand whole wheat.  The only  other "all purpose" flour that I could find was bleached - which didn't seem like a good idea. Rye flour alas was nowhere to be found.

Mixed equal amounts (by weight, bien sur!) of whole wheat flour and water - fed it a bit each day - and on day three had a bubbling crude.  Having read Debra Wink's work I knew that this was mostly bacterial action and that the solution had to become acidic enough before yeast would take hold.  I contemplated "The Pineapple Juice Solution" but strangely for an island that produces pineapples, their juice was nowhere to be found.  Not having the confidence or equipment (I flew here with only my carry on and live in a hotel)to undergo a pineapple juicing operation, I also read her advice that given enough time the starter would become acidic enough - and I had time to wait.  (oh, so much time  - the theme song for "Gilligan's Island" kept playing in my head)

With approximately twice daily feedings of whole wheat (during this period I did not always get to eat, and I worked as many as 20 hours a day - but my starter was fed)  living in the cool environment of my air-conditioned room,  it took about a week for my starter to double (just barely) reliably.  As I discarded parts of it, it seemed like a normal, healthy, although immature starter to me.

Then I started feeding it the white flour.  Almost immediately it began to show signs of starvation - the alcohol smell, a little hooch developing , a dead listless quality and no rise.  I was feeding it well - about twice a day.  What was going on?  Early one morning, coming home from work, I read the bag of flour.  It contained no malt.  Now, unmalted flour could very well have a low enough Falling Number to assure sufficient alpha amylase action - but then again, it might not.  Hard to know with the information provided on your typical bag of flour.  And I don't know of it indeed was the problem.

I do know that going back to whole wheat cleared up the problem.

But my OKI starter needed OKI flour (or so I told myself in my sleep deprived state).  After work tapered off a bit I was able to get to a Japanese grocery store. Still unable to read Japanese (or speak much of it) I allowed instinct alone to get me to the flour aisle and using the time honored method of looking carefully at the pictures on the package (or the big English words "For Bread" on an otherwise inscrutable bag of what I assume was flour) I chose bags of white and whole wheat flour that had pictures that seemed to be of bread like products.  Again, there was the question of flour characteristics, but now I was running completely blind.

So, nothing to do but experiment.  The whole wheat flour (which was really very lovely, very finely ground flour with no big flakes of bran) seemed to be a favorite of the "beasties", but was relatively expensive.  Additionally, I prefer to keep a white flour starter.  So I switched to white.

This was not entirely successful.  While not displaying signs of hunger, and just barely doubling in 4-6 hours, it didn't seem "right."  It had a sticky, silly puttyesque quality that did not seem in any way familiar.  Again, I don't know if this was the flour, or just a misbehaving adolescent starter, but it was a quality that I did not enjoy. Inspiration welcome.

So I must take a mental detour and consider how much we value our "old" starters.  "My teacher" once told me that keeping a starter alive and vibrant for many years was "the baker's pride."  There is a lot to be said for that.  To invest the time and care to keep a starter vibrant for 10, 20, 30 years or more is something in which one can take pride.  More than that, although our starters undergo minor changes, I know my starter.  I have had it for 10 years.  While not investing it with complex emotions or personality, it is a stable colony of living organisms and has predictable reactions to things like temperature, feeding schedule and flour quality.   I can read the state of its health pretty easily.  This new starter, not so much.  I will add that with this new starter, I was totally adrift. Not one factor- being at sea level, a humid climate, sporadic air conditioning, flour, or water- is something that I experience on my home turf.  I do remember that my own treasured starter produced some bad bakes when it was young and over time, without me doing much of anything, those bad bakes went away.

So back to the day to day, I decided on a feeding regimen of ¼- 1/3 parts of whole wheat flour and the remainder white flour. With this combination the beasties seem happy and I am "less unhappy" with the general texture of the starter itself.  I have been feeding at an eyeballed ratio of 1:1:1 and that starter doubles (but not much more).  The discard (about how one manages that in a Japanese hotel - don't ask , don't tell)  seemed lively enough for a day or so.  I was pretty sure I had some yeast working in there, but wasn't confident on its strength.  Inspiration welcome.

I was never really happy with my Okinawa starter and just didn't know where to place the blame.

Knowing that I would finally be leaving Okinawa, I decided to dry some of the starter and take it home.  I considered making a firm starter out of it but with the rigors of international air travel these days and the significant duration of the flight, thought better of it (advice from world travelers who travel with starter welcome!).

Once home, I dissolved the dried flakes in water and used that water to make a 100% hydration starter.  Of course, I also resumed baking and feeding my old starter which had been well cared for by my faithful house sitter.  I wondered if my good old KA flour would do my OKI starter some good.

Day 1 and 2 saw a pretty moribund container of glop.  On Day 3, like magic, the starter more than doubled.  While not looking exactly like my US starter, it was definitely looking like a very active starter.  It has been improving steadily day over day.

So what was it?  I'm asking - I don't know.  If it is the yeast in the local flour that finally took hold, this would tell us that the origin of the seed doesn't matter - the local yeasts will come on like gangbusters - but three days seemed too little for local yeasts to become so active.

I considered that it had become "contaminated" with my US starter, but I had been careful not to use the same utensils, not have the two containers open at the same time and to wash my hands before working with it.  It still has an aroma that is quite distinct from my US starter, so I would not call the two the same. 

Was it the flour itself giving the boost to the yeast that was formerly struggling to reproduce?  Was the OKI flour just not up to the task? Inspiration welcome.

Okinawa, by the way, has more of a wheat based cuisine than I would have thought.  Okinawa soba is not buckwheat - it is regular wheat - so they are a people that know the properties of wheat (and know what to do with a pig, but I digress...).  The texture of the Okinawan flours was very fine and silky and my tiny mind wanders to the impact of milling processes on flour behavior, but that's a topic for another time.

I will probably dry the starter again, save some of the dry starter to revive in the US and transport some to revive in Okinawa.  It's one thing to have a house sitter feed one 10 year old starter, I'm not going to tip over the edge to have him feed two.

I've worked most of the angles that are practical for finding an oven on Okinawa.  Obviously I am working with people who do not put a priority on home baking (and I am glad their priorities are where they are) and ovens are rare in Okinawa housing, so I don't think I will get to bake during my next hitch - which absolutely won't be as long as my last one.

What I will be doing is shipping some Japanese flours home to see how they act on the edge  of American hard red wheat country. I may even send a sample or two off to the lab to see what is going on with them.  That would be interesting. 

But it's going to be awhile...

Oh - and even though I thought I would forget - I can still bake (and still can't do photography)

My recently acquired shisas - the guardian spirits of Okinawa - guard the same old baguette (levain, 65% hydration) that I always bake.

The male shisa has an open mouth to keep away the evil spirits and the female shisa has a closed mouth to keep in the happiness. 

The crumb shot.

Enjoy!

So,this is off topic and I am somewhat sorry.  I've hit baking deprivation in a big way (which is demonstrated by the fact that I just bought a cute little pullman pan with the rationale that I have already committed to having to ship a few things from the Ryukyu to home and that I've never seen one that size in the US) and I'm only one month in.  Sigh.

But, yesterday my wakeup call was the shaking of the earth and the tsunami warnings.  This is not my favorite way to wake up.  But I figured that the weekend's excitement was over.

As I type, Okinawa is on tsunami alert due to the Chilean earthquake.  It is one thing to be shaken awake.  It is another thing to prepare for and speculate on disaster as it approaches.  My limited Japanese keeps me mostly in the dark, but I do know that places where I normally work/play/shop are closed and evacuated.  Fortunately my hotel is on the East China Sea side of the island, and I am more than 30 feet up, but it is strange and stressfull to think  tsunami may be hitting this tiny island. Obviously I have been glued to the internet, but we don't seem to be newsworthy.  The one English language TV station that we have is not helpful.  I'm used to weathering the weather of the Rocky Mountain region.  It is frankly freaky to me to have these threats coming from the earth itself.

Although the Japanese stations continue to flash a map (with Okinawa in red - that can't be good) what numbers I can understand (and it is amazing how desperation is a fabulous language teacher - these were just sounds to me a matter of weeks ago and now I can figure out some words - and I used my first Japanese words to get what I wanted rather than pointing today.  Hooray!) tell me that while I have typed and fretted the worst was not as bad as it could have been and has probably passed.

I'm not sure that I will ever be able to process news reports about earthquakes around the world in quite the same way ever again.

Please remember the victims of the Haitian and Chilean earthquakes. 

And bake a loaf for me...

 This entry is dedicated to - well, you know who you are...

I have been thinking a great deal lately about the influences that Chinese and Japanese culture have had in my life.

My long time in cross cultural Penang, Malaysia has cemented certain Chinese rituals in my life and the approach of the Lunar New Year has brought my exposure to Chinese culture to the foreground.  My imminent return to the Ryukyu (Okinawa) and my daily Japanese language lessons (courtesy of Rosetta Stone) remind me of the influence that Japan has had on me throughout my entire life.

As one might guess from my user name, there is no genetic reason for this.  My heritage (complete with blonde hair and lactose tolerance) is purely Northern European. I joke about my "little Japanese grandmother" teaching me things at her knee, but my grandmother was Pennsylvania Dutch and although she would have been fascinated with some of the things that I have learned, they could not be farther from the world in which she lived.

I also joke about "becoming invisible" in Okinawa.  Yes, the big, pale woman with the blonde, curly hair can hardly be seen in a crowd. Nice fantasy.  In fact, although adults are much too polite, children stare at me like the out of place creature that I am.

But Japan has been part of my life since childhood.  The same strange winds that caused me to learn French as a small child sent me a good friend whose family was transferred to Japan.  On her return visits we explored Japanese traditional fashion, gardening, paper folding, and, of course, the elegant use of chopsticks with the intensity that only nerdy children can bring.  As a result, the koi that swim in my backyard pond are the realization of a childhood dream, my Christmas tree is decorated with origami, and my obsession with linen is only equaled by my obsession with Japanese indigo (neither one an inexpensive obsession- best to stick with baking.)

So what does any of this have to do with bread?  I have become convinced that it has a lot to do with my approach to bread baking.

In one of my alternate lives I collected the works of a Japanese printmaker - Shigeki Kuroda.  In Japanese fashion this artist has devoted himself to one subject area.  That subject is bicycles and umbrellas in the rain.  He has produced infinite variations on this very narrow theme in an attempt to explore every aspect of it.   Here I recognize my method of endless repetition of what seems to be identical formulas with tiny variations attempting to understand every aspect of a particular type of loaf

One of my luxuries while in Okinawa is breakfast at my hotel.  Every little dish is just as good as it can be - scrambled eggs are perfectly creamy - raw squid is perfectly fresh - the coffee is better than what I have had in Paris.  Why bread is without taste (although beautiful) is a mystery to me and I have come to the conclusion that it must be a cultural preference, not a flaw.

So immediately upon my arrival for a brief visit home (to do those things that are required to keep my life from shredding during my next absence) my instinct was to bake baguettes.  This break from baking represented the longest time in between bakes for me in a number of years. My levain had been cared for by the person who is caring for my pets and was in top shape. As I baked my standard formula yet again, in my never ending attempt to reach absolute perfection (didn't make it, yet) I was relieved to learn that I hadn't forgotten how to bake.

Then one day I mixed up a levain pate fermentée for another purpose and changed my mind.  I decided to make a pate fermentée based levain baguette.  After all, it was time to explore this different aspect of the same bread.

The formula is simplicity in itself.  It is lean dough using King Arthur All Purpose flour.  The pate fermentée was at 63% hydration with 2% salt.  The starter was 25% of the total weight of the pate fermentée.  15% of the flour was prefermented and the overall formula was at 65% hydration with 2% salt.   My total dough weight for two baguettes was 20.6 ounces.  Like the annoying authors of physics textbooks, I will leave the calculation of the exact formula weights as an exercise for the reader.

I used my standard method of mixing by "folding in the bowl."  I added the preferment in small blobs at the beginning of the mix (oh, the horror!) because I wanted to avoid any heavy duty effort in incorporating the preferment into some already partially developed dough.

The dough had a bulk ferment of 5.5 hours with a single stretch and fold at 2.5 hours.  I was frankly unhappy with the dough development after 5.5 hours and had resolved myself to concluding that "sometimes the bear gets you."  I really think that the bulk fermentation was affected by the salt in the preferment and if I were determined to use this method, I might want to increase the percentage of flour prefermented to compensate on the next try. But I was out of time and shaped the loaves in my usual fashion, proofed them for about an hour and slashed and baked as usual.

The results follow.  My sojourn in the Ryukyu, alas, has done nothing for my photography skills (I really don't know why these pictures come out so pale, the flash on my camera apparently can't be disabled...).

The loaves

The crumb

Not bad.  We could play "list the flaws" but the doctors at "the place" have told me that this is not healthy (and if all y'all can't find the major shaping flaw, then I'm not going to tell you.)  The taste was just a bit more sour than usual, but that is not very sour.  The crust was crispy after cooling.

Once again, I will point out that the open crumb did not depend upon having a high hydration (because 65% is hardly a high hydration) or my not deflating the dough (iron hand in velvet glove still applies - but I'm not afraid to smack down a fermentation bubble if it gets in my way) but from a proper fermentation.  This crumb was not as open as my typical crumb, but was far from unacceptable.

So as I prepare for my return to the Ryukyu and a longer break from baking than I can currently imagine (unless I can get a job at the local bakery) I'm content with this foray into an infinitesimally different style of baguette baking.  I look forward to sticky rice, pig ears, bitter melon, raw fish, and seaweed at breakfast and the next adventure.

Happy Baking!

The couple of folks who actually read my posts may have noticed that I seem to be posting at crazy hours.

I've been working in the Ryukyu (or Okinawa) and although beginning to suffer from baking withdrawal have been absolutely blown away by the beautiful breads in the nearby department store.  Unfortunately, to a Western palate, many of these breads are tasteless - but they sure are beautiful.

I finally bribed a colleague who has both a camera and photography skills to take pictures.

 Here is a shot of a "simple" pain de mie that seems to have been laminated and twisted in some way to produce a wide open, fluffy crumb and a parquet style crust.  If anyone out  there knows precisely how this is done - I would love to know.

These pastries reminded me of my days at the Back Home Bakery (Was that even in this same lifetime?). That is if we had put our inner pastry chefs on steroids.

These sweet little pussy cat buns are almost too cute to eat.  You just want to pinch their little cheeks.

These chocolate breads are an enriched bun only very lightly flavored with chocolate (again, beautiful, but not much flavor.)  The lighter flecks are sweet crispy peanutty things.

That layer on top that looks like extra chocolately goodness is actually just an egg wash.

 There are many more, but we were becoming an embarrassment by acting like insane tourists.  I really wanted to ask if I could spend a week being free labor in the bakery, but my limited Japanese language skills stood in the way.  I tried my normal means of communication (pointing, smiling, and nodding...) to no avail.

I also had the chance to visit a store with a baking factory in the back.  Even on the street we could catch an unusually delicious buttery aroma.  The factory was dedicated to baking little boat shaped tarts filled with purple sweet potato filling.

This machine took a large chunk of pastry dough and measured it out into the tart molds, then tamped it down.

You can see the finished tart shells exiting the machine in the next picture.

This one squirted in the sweet potato filling and it was a hoot to watch it make the little curlicues.

 Then the pastries were baked and a machine delicately lifted them onto a conveyor where gossamer wheels straightened them on the belt in preparation for wrapping.  They are quite delicious and no baker required!

Of course, this isn't all I've done  - but I'm trying to stay "on topic."  I will just say that I haven't had a bad meal since I got here, and as I type I'm watching the tide go out on the East China Sea.

Happy Baking!

 On the occasion of the 10th anniversary of "Good Eats" I've decide to get my "nerd on" and offer a detailed explanation for a small detail.

 From time to time I read discussions on couches and couche care on these pages and I encounter what I will call "folklore" about the fibers and  fabric care.

I will not wade too deeply into the various controversies, but I do have some small expertise on fibers and fabric care and would really like to share it for those who desire a more complete understanding of this fascinating topic.

 Let's start with linen.  Linen is a bast fiber (other common bast fibers are jute, hemp, and ramie) which means that it comes from the center stalk of a plant.  In the case of linen, it comes from the center stalk of the flax plant.  The fibers that are known as flax before they are spun and linen after they are spun are the long fibrous strands found between the outer "bark" and inner core of the flax plant.  Although the flax plant obligingly provides us with seeds for use in our baking as well as fiber, the culture is different between those plants destined mostly for fiber and those destined mostly for seed.  Plants to be grown for fiber are planted close together so that the plant will grow tall and straight with little branching and fewer flowers.  Plants grown for seed are planted further apart so that they will branch and produce more flowers.  Additionally, different varieties of flax are cultivated commercially for these purposes and to achieve these ends, so while it is a romantic notion to think that the very same plant gives us linen for our couche and seeds for our bread, it is a just a bit invalid here in the early days of the 21st century.

 Because it is a bast fiber, linen is extremely strong.  Also bast fibers do not have any crimp (like a lock of wool or a cotton fiber) and so will not shrink.

 Because of the expense of producing cotton (more later) and its limited growing range, linen was the most commonly used fiber in Europe until the end of the 18th century and continued to be widely used until the invention of the cotton gin.

Flax becomes linen in a multi step process.  After the plant has reached maturity, it is harvested - preferably by pulling it from the ground root and all to maximize the length of the fiber.  It is dried, the seed pods removed, and then retted.  Retting is a process where the flax is kept wet - either by submerging it in water or keeping it on a moist surface (like the dew on grass) until the outer layer partially decomposes exposing the fibers.  Once again it is dried.  The next step is breaking where the outer layer is further broken mechanically.  Scutching comes next - where a knife like device is used to further scrape the outer layer from the fibers.  At this point the fibers are mostly clean, but they are further cleaned and straightened by a process known as hackling.  A flax hackle looks something like a medieval torture device and is a board from which protrude number of sharp iron spikes.  The hackling process will produce long fibers that will be spun into fine linen and short yellow fibers called "tow."  When we look at a blonde child and call her a "tow head" we are comparing the color and texture of her hair to the color and texture of the tow produced by this process.  Tow can also be spun, but it will not be as smooth as fine linen.  After all this, the fibers are spun (after mounting them on a distaff) (oh, and they are usually spun wet to give the smoothest results) and become linen.  This can either be bleached (by the action of chemicals or the sun) or left natural.  Then it is woven and there is one more chance to bleach it. 

 After all it has gone through to become cloth; one really must ponder why we have come to think of this fiber as "delicate."  Yes, it can be finely spun to produce a very fine fabric, but this is a tough fiber indeed.

 I have planted and tended flax, processed it and spun it into linen.  This is one of the reasons why $9 per yard for couche linen does not cause me to flinch.  While I understand that people's economic situations and propensity to spend vary, I consider the number of steps to create that cloth and I can't begrudge anyone the money.

One characteristic of linen is that it absorbs and evaporates moisture quickly.  This makes it particularly suited for use as a couche, since in theory one of the functions of the couche is to pull moisture from the surface of the bread to prepare it for better scoring.  This also means that once a linen couche is used and has absorbed some moisture, it will dry more quickly and so prevent mold.

 New linen couche cloth needs to be washed to rid it of any chemicals used in finishing.  It will ravel somewhat, but well woven linen couche cloth will not ravel excessively.  It can be washed in hot water simply to get it as clean as possible.  There is no need to use hot water to shrink it (for, as mentioned before, it can not shrink).  Mild soap should be used for fine or antique linens, but for a couche as long as you feel good about it rinsing out of the cloth, the linen does just fine with any modern detergent (I routinely launder my linen aprons in regular detergent and they are holding up just fine...).  This being the one of the sturdiest fibers there is (consider that sails were made of linen) there is no need for a gentle cycle for couche cloth.  (Again, fine or antique linens are another diverting topic in and of themselves and are treated differently.)  Linen couche cloth can safely be dried in an automatic dryer.  (Actually, the dryer is the biggest enemy of linen (and cotton) - not because of the heat, but because the tumbling action will cause friction on the fabric and pull off parts of the fiber which we experience as dryer lint.  However, since the couche will not be washed often - have no fear.)  Fabric softeners (liquids or dryer sheets) should not be used as they impact the absorption qualities of the fiber (this also goes for cotton.)  (Won't get involved in the whole "toxic chemicals" debate.)  It might be slightly puckered after washing and drying (and again, this is wrinkling, not shrinkage) but since this is the one and only time you should be washing it, any raveled threads can be trimmed and the cloth is ready.  No need to hem or serge it.  If you wish to iron it, it should be ironed when quite damp.

 Linen contains a wax that when exposed to the heat of an iron will provide the fabric with a luster.  We hardly care about this in our couches, but when dealing with fine linen cloth it is best to iron it on both sides to maximize the luster.

 Cotton requires a warm climate and a long growing season to reach maturity.  When picked from the plant, the cotton contains about 2/3 seeds to 1/3 fiber.  Prior to the invention of the cotton gin, these seeds needed to be picked out by hand or by putting each cotton tuft through a couple of rollers to squeeze out the seeds (either one a labor intensive process.)  When the cotton is dried after harvest, the fiber dries into a flat ribbon shape that corkscrews.  This is the crimp that will cause cotton to shrink.  It also gives cotton more elasticity than linen, so it is less prone to wrinkles.

 Because cotton fibers are relatively short (different varieties of cotton have different fiber lengths, but they are all considered short in relation to wool - and of course linen where the fibers may be 2-3 feet in length), they require a great deal of twist when spinning.  Although cotton is easy to spin, putting in a lot of twist causes spinning to be relatively slow.  In an environment of hand spinning or limited mechanical spinning, cotton is a luxury fiber.  Most folks who live in the US are familiar with the role that the cotton gin played in the American South and how ensuing events lead to conflict.

 I have also planted, grown, harvested, cleaned, and spun my own cotton.  It seems like it should be less effort than processing flax, but harvesting is kind of grueling (yes, the cotton pods are sharp!), and picking out the seeds - although simple - is pretty time consuming.  Also, I could grow flax in Colorado and not cotton.  And I like it here...  In fact, it is this limited growing range that created an important cotton trade.  Flax, on the other hand, was readily grown in many climates and never reached this kind of economic importance.

 Cotton does not have the wicking power of linen so will take longer to dry and "in theory" will not perform as well as linen to pull moisture from dough.  I won't weigh in on the cotton vs. linen couche decision except to say that I like the feel of linen as opposed to cotton.  I like touching it and I try to use it when I can.  (A linen bath towel dries like nothing else, by the way.)  Obsessive perfectionists might want to blow the money to get the absolute perfect fabric for the application (and it is.)  If we look backwards to "the old ways" - especially old European ways - linen would be the fabric of choice as cotton would have been too rare and expensive.  But cotton is just fine.

 Once again, a well woven cotton couche will ravel when washed (and it should be washed to remove finishing chemicals), but not so much as to be a problem.  Since this should be the one and only time the couche is washed, these threads can be trimmed and will not be a problem again.  No need to hem, serge, etc. unless even the smallest amount of raveling (in the past) is something you simply cannot tolerate.  Similarly, since the couche will not be washed again, washing it in hot water will cause it to shrink a bit, but there is really no need to shrink it.  Most cotton that is commercially available has already gone through enough processing so that any major shrinkage has already occurred.

 No matter what fabric you use, the couche should be dry before storage, or stored in such a way that it will dry quickly in storage.  Those of us in dry climates can be a bit careless, while those in humid climates might wish to find a spot to hang couches until they are dry.  Folding any fabric will result - over time - in permanent creases and will eventually cause weak spots in the fabric along those crease lines.  "Over time" is sort of a relative thing.  For a couche which we might be using for ten or twenty years and will not be passed down to the children and grandchildren, this should not be a concern.  Creases will develop, but they will not substantially reduce the functionality of the couche.  For treasured quilts or tablecloths, many experts recommend that they be rolled, or if that is not practical that folds be padded with acid free tissue paper and that periodically they be re folded in a different way.  Personally I can roll my couche and so I do.

 Yes, it's a long winded post with no pictures and I realize that it will fade away as more blogs are created, but I've really done my homework on this and attempted to present facts as opposed to folklore.  Hope it is useful and dispels some myths.

 Or: My Adventures at the Back Home Bakery.

 They all told me I was too old to start in any kind of professional baking.  "My teacher" said it.  Even the organizers of La Coupe du Monde de la Boulangerie tell me I am too old to be eligible to compete (Oh, and I don't bake that well...)

 They were right.

 And I say this not in the spirit of complaining that Mark is a maniacal slave driver (although I did hand many customers at the Tuesday farmer's market small pieces of paper on which I had printed "Help me!") but rather to drive home how physically demanding this baking business can be.  I knew it in my head.  Now I know it in every aching part of my body.

 For those of us who work in offices spending many hours hunched over a computer, the first shock is the standing.  In my home kitchen, I can pull up a chair and rest while stirring the jam (for example.) In the world of professional baking, one stands.  I am told by a friend who went from information systems work to working retail (a story for which the world is not yet prepared) that in a month or so, standing becomes easier.  But what a month it would be!  I was barely able to hobble up and down stairs at the end of a day and I was sure that my feet were some kind of malevolent entity determined to make me suffer as payback.

 The hours, of course, are grueling.  Getting to work at 3AM is cake, but continuing to work until 6PM kind of takes it out of a person - at least us old folks.  Mark essentially works the hours of two people.  He tells me that he soon will be able to slack off a bit. But he does this for months at a time.  He previously worked construction.  He is a fit, strong sort of guy used to hard physical work.  The transition from "paper" work to physical work is quite a large one.  As we lose our regenerative powers, this transition becomes more and more difficult.  I won't say it can't be done - but it would take considerable effort for a "more mature" individual,

 One thing in particular was striking for me.  I have some problems with my right hand that are the result of injuries long in the past.  In my typical life - which does include some heavy-duty home baking/cooking and gardening - this is a minor inconvenience.  As the days passed at the Back Home Bakery, this little problem became a big one.  Mark may or may not have noticed, but I did mixing, shaping, egg washing, and was his faithful prep monkey with a right hand in such pain that it hurt to lift a fork.  I am sure that he may have thought that I had some unnatural compulsion to wash dishes (without gloves) but the real reason I was so quick to head to the sink was that the jet of hot water on my right hand was the only thing that reduced the pain enough to enable me to go on to the next task.  If I were to bake at these volumes week after week, I would have to have the hand thing "taken care of" - with the expense and bother that would involve - if it were even possible.  Winners play with pain, but a few years of that could be quite wearing.  Anyone who is seriously considering running that small bakery at an age where little aches and pains are tolerated as "just getting old" needs to seriously consider what the strain of daily, repetitive, hard work would do.

 I also found out how humbling it is for those of us who work with complex systems in our current profession to realize we can make a mistake weighing out water.  "How hard can it be?"  It can be hard - and left unnoticed the consequences could be dire.

 Not to say that the time spent was unpleasant.  While Mark may come off as a relentless, pitiless, heartless, cyborg who never sleeps and has no consideration for the well being of his interns - he is only doing what needs to be done to make his business viable. He is willing to put in stupendous effort (and so is his capable helpmate...) to make the vision he has for his life a reality.  In a sense, many of us have been willing to do this, but for many of us it is in the past and not the future.  I've reinvented myself at least twice in this way.  I know I will have to reinvent myself one more time.  What remains is the question of my willingness and ability to put in this type of effort again and what form that reinvention will take.  Further, to wax even more abstract, the incredible demands we put on the people who provide the most basic necessities of life are really something to think about when we grouse about the cost of food.

 All in all, I got the kind of practice that I wanted and needed. I shaped and scored more bread in a week than I would have in many months and that matters.  I learned a technique to form boules that is so good, that I will defy "my teacher" and even use it in his/her presence.  I learned that obsessive perfectionism is for home bakers - not pros (unless they intend to go into competition.) I finally mastered two fisted roll making.  I spent quality time with the sheeter (I do love me some sheeter.) I realized that I have the heart of a pastry chef and the starker realities of turning out "daily bread" are less appealing to me.  I learned that I get a kind of enduring satisfaction out of things like looking at the proofer - full at 6:30AM and thinking - "we really knocked that out today - got it done faster than yesterday" - or from simple things like beating Mark to the bakery in the morning (not an easy thing.) The Montana night sky must be seen to be appreciated.  Sharon (Mark's wife) is a lovely person who has much patience for all and deserves to be elevated to sainthood.  I learned to wrangle plastic wrap (yeah, you think it's simple...)

 Mark and Sharon learned never to give me coffee.  It may seem like a good idea, but it is not.

 Would I recommend it?  To vigorous, healthy folk of any age who want to deal in the reality of a small artisan bakery - yes.  Folk like me - at your own peril.

 But, I got through the week and I think I could have at least gotten through another.  Yes, I could have pushed myself more on my final Sunday to do some laminating, but at that point it would have been practicing a skill that I will not use again soon and to be frank I just would have slowed Mark down.  I sit (oh, lovely sitting!) here now in my somewhat cushier surroundings knowing full well that I like them - but do not need them. Baking aside, it's good to know that I own the things and they do not own me.

 Has it changed my thinking about working professionally?  Well, not really.  I've been messing about with various food disciplines for a long time and have some small skill in some of them.  I was never thinking about doing anything more than a "hobby business" after saving sufficient funds for retirement.  You know - have a hobby that pays for itself and maybe earns a little pin money.  I have been and still am searching for the right way to model this business.  My realization that pastry holds more appeal than pure bread baking is important, but not earth shattering.  I knew I would be taking a hit physically (not quite as much as I did during my internship) as I made the transition.  I have to give serious thought to the question of my right hand and what medical science may or may not be able to do for it.  I knew the economics of the food business would be harsh.  Fortunately, I still have a while to mull this over.

 I do have the shining memory of someone buying a bear claw, biting into it - smiling - and then handing pieces to his family.  "That," I said to Mark, "That, is why all us tech types want to be bakers."

 Thanks, Mark! Ya know we only abuse those that we deeply appreciate!  If I ever take leave of my senses again - I'll be back!