Days Seventy-Eight and Seventy-Nine: Rustic Herbed Sourdough
For some reason, a lot of people are afraid of yeast.
I’ve never been quite sure why this is. I have ideas, of course. I suspect that somewhere along the line, many of these people encountered a bad batch of yeast. If your first experience of attempting yeast bakery turns out to be a bad one, of course it’s going to color how you view yeast, your baking, and any combination of the two from that point forward. Which is a particularly sad thing if the fact your bread didn’t end up rising properly (or at all) is due to your having dead yeast.
That having been said, yeast isn’t really so difficult a thing to contemplate. Once you understand that they’re living organisms, and that if you feed them, they generally stay happy and do what you want them to do, you’re well on your way to creating a great loaf of bread. Or several great loaves of bread. And lo, the magic will be yours, and you’ll feel great and eat well.
Of course, you don’t have to rely on store-bought yeast. Or brewer’s yeast. Or, indeed, any yeast beyond what’s in the air all around us, all the time. That’s the magic of sourdough. It’s an old magic, to be sure; pre-dating the advent of packaged yeast by a long margin. That hardly means it’s outdated; on the contrary, I prefer to think of it as an ever-evolving, mystical sort of baking magic that you can tap into with just a little bit of flour and some water. If you’d like to get marginally fancier, as with this recipe, you can incorporate some salt and some olive oil and herbs, too.
Rustic Herbed Sourdough
INGREDIENTS
- 1 c. sourdough starter of your choice, fed and at room temperature (I like to feed mine and let it rest at room temperature overnight, which is why this took two days)
- 1 c. warm water
- 2-3 c. all-purpose flour
- Olive oil to coat the pan and to brush over the top of the loaf
- 2-3 tbsp fresh or dried basil and oregano
- Coarse sea salt (for sprinkling)
PREPARATION
Once your sourdough starter has come to room temperature, add water and enough flour so that it isn’t a thoroughly clumpy mess as you knead it. Knead for a few minutes only, to pull the dough together into a cohesive mass. Form into a slightly shaggy ball and rub it and your bowl with a little olive oil. Cover with a kitchen towel and let rise in a warm place, free from draft, for 4-6 hours.
When 4-6 hours have elapsed, preheat your oven to 350F. Gently punch down dough and knead for a few minutes; form into a boule and place on olive-oil coated baking sheet. Cover and let rise for another half hour.
When half an hour has elapsed, brush loaf with olive oil and sprinkle with herbs and sea salt. Bake for 20-30 minutes, or until loaf is lightly golden brown and hollow when rapped on the bottom.
Fling convention out the window and serve immediately, ripping into and/or slicing it with abandon. Best served with a good soup, and it is AMAZING straight from the oven.
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Day Seventy-Seven: Pane alla Ricotta
“What are you making now?” Joe asked.
“Ricotta bread,” I replied.
“That’s not right,” he responded, smiling and shaking his head as he walked away.
It is kind of an odd thought, isn’t it? It becomes less so when you think about breads made with yogurt, but it’s not the first thing you think of when you think of a simple loaf of bread.
The texture of this bread is probably the finest in a loaf of bread that I’ve made so far. The crust is delicate and crispy, and the interior crumb is soft and moist and yielding. Joe took one bite and declared that it would make the most amazing pizza dough ever, and I’m pretty sure he’s right. Will have to try that at some point in the future.
We ripped into it immediately after these photos were taken, and it was unbelievable while still warm from the oven. I know it’s bad breadmaking policy to have sliced it while it was still warm from the oven, and usually I don’t…except when we’re eating a bread with dinner, since I’ve usually then planned it to come out of the oven when dinner is ready. The only reason there’s any left today is because the loaf was so large. Don’t be daunted by the fact of its largeness; it’s very light and fluffy with its size.
I should also note that I made this bread with the ricotta/parmesan mixture, not purely with ricotta. The word or phrase that I think best describes this bread? Seductive.
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