Perfect puffs

Many years ago, when the earth was still cooling, dinosaurs roamed the hills, and I was but a wee lad, Mom made us popovers for dinner.  It didn't happen for every meal, but my brother and I requested them often, and as we grew older, Mom realized that a single batch was no longer enough.  We'd start to load our plates for dinner by grabbing two or three popovers each, quickly spotting the largest ones.  It became an unofficial, undeclared contest to see who could eat more, and that was usually determined by who got the last one.

Popovers are light, fluffy, cloud-like rolls, usually hollow inside.  I liked to put butter, jelly, or warm applesauce into their cavernous interiors before I ate them, but they're so good on their own that I had just as many plain.

A couple years ago, my aunt sent me an envelope full of recipes she'd gotten from Mom, written in Mom's hand.  One of them was for herb-cheese popovers.  Wow.

The Chief Taster loves popovers, too, though I've never seen her eat more than three for a meal, and that was only once or twice.  The batch size for the recipe I favor is about nine, and it's an act of great effort for me to not devour the rest myself.  Instead, I eat the last four or five from the batch over the course of the next day, for breakfast, lunch, and snacks.

They're pretty handy, because they have only four ingredients (for the base version), which are usually in the kitchen anyway: eggs, milk, flour, and salt.  If my plan for dinner is a little thin, and it needs some bread, it's a breeze to add popovers to the menu.  I've gotten pretty good at baking them over a wide range of temperatures, in case I have something else in the oven which may be more finicky.

Today, I'm going to stick to Mom's Herb Cheese Popovers, even though I don't remember her ever making them.  I only remember the bare-bones popovers, but they're both really good, and they make me happy, and I like that this recipe, in Mom's handwriting, is now in my file.

2 eggs
1 C milk
1 C flour
1/2 C grated sharp cheddar (I've used a couple different cheeses, including feta)
1/2 t salt
1/2 t dried thyme
1/4 t dried sage
1/4 t dried basil

• Generously grease a muffin pan.  You'll have to find out on your own how many cups (of the muffin pan) you need; this recipe only takes up 9 in mine, but your muffins may be a different size than mine.  I've also heard of popover pans, but mine aren't that specialized.  They do it all.  Muffins, cupcakes, popovers, eggs, whatever.  Anyway--only grease the cups you need.
• Crack the eggs into a medium bowl and beat them a little.  Add the rest of the ingredients and mix to combine.  The batter may be a little lumpy.  No worries.  Pour it into the greased cups, getting each one about 2/3 full.
• Put the rack in the lower third of a cold oven, stick in your popover pan, and set the temperature at 450F.  Bake 30 minutes without opening door.
• Remove from oven, and use a butter knife to flip them from the cups.

There's a bite mark because I couldn't wait until after I took the picture.

I've kept some of Mom's directions here (I like heating the oven once the popovers are in there, because it means it's ok to forget to preheat, and the popovers can be a late addition to the party, if needed), but I changed some and removed others (her writing recommended piercing them after 30 minutes of baking to let steam escape and returning them to the oven to dry for about 10 minutes.  I don't remember her ever doing that, and I haven't, either).

If you want to make "normal" popovers, the recipe I usually use has three differences from the one above:

1. No herbs and cheese.
2. Preheat the oven to 450F.  Put the greased pan in the oven for about 5 minutes.  This is conveniently the same amount of time it takes to make the batter.
3. Bake at 450 for 20 minutes, then reduce the heat to 325F and bake another 10 to 15 minutes.

In either case, you're done when they look golden-brown and delicious.

Another one bites the crust

I may have mentioned this before, but in my Quest to learn how to make bread, I once spent an entire year never buying a single loaf.  If I had bread, it was because I baked it myself, and that was at a time when I had a sandwich for lunch pretty much every day, so I went through plenty of bread.  Different recipes, different shapes, different flours; I tried steaming the loaf with a pan of ice cubes under the baking sheet, and I tried different washes before baking (salt water is nice, and handy when you don't have an egg available for an egg wash).  It was a lengthy experiment, doomed to failure.

I wanted the loaves I could buy.  I wanted that stretchy, chewy crumb inside and that hard, crunchy crust outside.  I wanted a great loaf for sandwiches, and I wanted a loaf that was so good that I could just sit down with a slice of it and enjoy it all on its own merits, savoring the different textures and the contrast between that light, airy inside and the hearty crunch outside.  Instead, I got a lot of densely-crumbed loaves with weak, disappointing crusts.  If they were close to what I wanted when I first pulled them out of the oven, they had softened by the next day.  I was disappointed in my efforts and myself.  A year of dedicated work, and no progress to show for it.

I called my dad one day and admitted defeat.  He tried to console me with the fact that I still liked the bread I made; it was still good stuff.  "Yeah, but it's not what I wanted to make."

In Oregon, I mentioned the experiment once to a baker in, of all places, Safeway, and she told me that I'd probably never get what I wanted at home, because my oven just wasn't made for the temperatures required for those results.  I still toy with the idea of letting the loaf proof (a secondary rise after shaping) until it's really big then baking as hot as my oven can go, but I haven't tried it yet.  These days, someone else is buying the groceries, and I ration my consumption of them by eating much more conservative lunches.  The bread I bake now is for the Chief Taster's breakfast, and she likes it seedy, because she's one of those weirdos who thinks bread should taste like granola, and only be eaten as toast, and she won't eat a sandwich unless it's grilled, and full of cheese.

But I get bored making the same bread all the time, and I still want to find that crusty loaf, so I keep trying new recipes.  This one looked like it might satisfy both of us.  I'll give you the version from the book, and add some notes to show where I diverged.  As usual.

South African Seed Bread

unsalted butter, melted.  Maybe a tablespoon?
3 t dry yeast
1 2/3 C warm water
4 t honey
3 C whole wheat flour
1 C bread flour (unbleached all-purpose will be fine)
3 T each sesame seeds, poppy seeds, sunflower seeds, flax seeds, and chopped mixed nuts (Sometimes I decide that I want to bake, and also that I don't want to go to the grocery, so I have to make do with what I have on hand.  Believe it or not, I had plenty of flax, poppy, sunflower, pumpkin, and caraway seeds, but only 1 T sesame seeds.  All I had for nuts were pecans and some sliced almonds.  My version of this bread had 3 T each poppy, flax, pumpkin, and sunflower seeds, 1 T sesame seeds, and 1 T caraway seeds.  Don't use more than 1 T caraway unless you really like that flavor, because the flavor is STRONG.  I didn't use any nuts.  I'd recommend using unsalted sunflower seeds for bread.  Keep the salted ones for snacking.)
1.5 t salt
1 T milk (see note below)

• Melt the butter and brush it around the inside of an 8x4" loaf pan.
• Sprinkle the yeast into 1.25 C water and add the honey.  Stir it, then ignore it for 5 minutes.  I just eyeballed the honey as I drizzled it in.  Us untrained non-professionals can get away with delinquency like that.
• While you're ignoring the yeast, mix the flours, seeds, (nuts?) and salt in a large bowl, and make a well in the center of it.
• Are you done ignoring your yeast now?  Does it feel neglected?  Whisper soothing words of encouragement, give it a stir, and dump it into that well.  Start stirring in flour from the sides of the well.  For those of you who have your own copy of the book and are following along at home, you've probably read ahead (CHEATERS!!) and noticed that the book tells you to add the remaining water, as necessary, to form a cohesive dough that "just begins to leave the sides of the bowl clean," and that you won't have to knead it.  Maybe that'll work for you, but I'm calling bullshit.  I added all of my remaining water, but the mixing stick just wasn't doing the job, so I rolled up a sleeve, took off my watch, and stuck my hand in there.  SHIT GOT SERIOUS.  I had to work the dough a bit, squeezing and stretching (one might even call it "kneading") and turning it over to collect all the seeds and bits of dry flour that fell to the bottom of the bowl.  I got it all worked in, but it took a few minutes, and it looked a lot like that k-word we weren't supposed to do.  Whatever.  I like kneading, dammit.
• When the dough has gobbled up all of the seeds and dry flour bits through "stirring," you can put it in your buttery pan.  The book says to spoon it in, but I think the book ended up with a much wetter dough than I did.  Your results may vary.  No big deal.  Point is, I picked up a single doughball and squished it into the pan, patting it flat across the top as though I were following the book's instructions, then I covered it with a clean dishtowel and left it on a sunny counter to rise for an hour.
• At the end of the hour, have an oven preheated to 400F.  I don't know how long your oven takes to do that, so work it out on your own.  When the dough has risen above the top of the pan (it doesn't need to be much, but remember that oven heat kills yeast, so it won't get much bigger once you start baking), stick it in the oven.  After 30 minutes, reduce heat to 350F and bake for another 30 minutes.
• Remember int eh ingredients list, when I mentioned milk, then said "see note?"  This is the note.  When you get the loaf out of the oven, remove it from the pan and set it on a wire rack to cool.  The book says to brush the top and sides with the milk, but that will give you a softer crust, and we know how I feel about crust.  I didn't use the milk.  You can do whatever you want.  It's really not my business what you do with that loaf.  Personally, I sliced off a heel and ate it while typing these instructions but that's just me.

to hell with Maryanne

The Chief Taster has this thing where she likes to have a slice of toast, an orange, and a soft-boiled egg for breakfast every day.  Except on weekends, when I'll sometimes make omelets or Dutch babies or muffins or waffles or... something.  Usually, the toast is from a loaf I've made, unless I've been lazy, and just bought her a loaf of multi-grain.  Therein lies my problem: she is a creature of unwavering habit, and I like to play with my food.  And, I guess, hers.  I mean, there are a LOT of bread recipes out there.  Why should I stick to just the one?

I tried something called black bread from one of her books last week.  It was terrible.  We were both unhappily chewing a piece for breakfast when I gave up and threw the rest of the loaf in the garbage.

I did much better this week.  I found a recipe (in one of MY books) called Gingery Whole Wheat Bread.  The doughball was really big even before rising, and (obviously) much larger an hour or so later.  After baking, I was thrilled to see that the loaves were big enough to make lunch sandwiches--and that was before I tried the bread.

I always slice off a heel and eat it fresh from the oven.  She doesn't like the heels (one of the many things about her I'll probably never understand--my brothers and I used to fight over heels.  That's why there's only two of us left).  I spread a little butter on it, intending to have that one slice, then go to the grocery for the berries I needed for dessert that night, but HOLEY MOLY, THAT BREAD.  There's only half a teaspoon of ginger in each loaf, but you can still taste it.  It's just sweet enough to be a great choice for breakfast, but not sweet enough to dissuade me from making sandwiches for lunch (I added lunchmeat and lunchcheese to my grocery list), and that ginger flavor is in every damn bite.  I had another slice, then left before I ate the rest.

Gingery Wholewheat Bread

2 packages (4.5 t) dry yeast
1/2 C lukewarm water
2 C milk
1/2 C molasses
1/2 C butter (I didn't realize until typing this post that I screwed up here; I read the recipe as "1/2 C," but it's really "1/2 stick (1/4 C)."  Also, they used margarine, and I won't buy the stuff.  If you want the bread I made, do what I did.  If you want whatever they made, do that.  Using their amount of butter probably would have kept me from adding the extra flour while kneading, but I'm happy with my choices.)
2 T brown sugar
6 C flour (when I say "flour," I always mean "unbleached all-purpose," unless I say otherwise.  Don't buy self-rising flour.  Just don't.)
2 C whole wheat flour
1 T salt (they said 3 t, because I guess they didn't do the math?)
1 t ginger

1. Combine flours, salt, and ginger in a large bowl.
2. Sprinkle the yeast into 1/2 C water.  Set that aside to dissolve while you put the milk, molasses, brown sugar, and butter (however much you used) in a small saucepan over low heat.  Stir constantly, until everything has melted and blended together. Don't boil it.  Besides making the milk go all funny, it will kill the yeast in the next step.  Most of the blending will happen by stirring, so the heat here is really just to melt the butter.
3. Make a well in the middle of the flour bowl and pour in about half of the milk mixture.  Stir that in, then add the dissolved yeast.  Keep stirring.  Add the rest of the milk mixture.  Things will clump together in big gooey globs (especially if you used twice as much butter, like me).  You can add more flour to get the right consistency, but I usually do that while kneading, so let's move the dough glob onto a clean counter (you can dust it with flour first, if you want.  I don't care.) and knead it for a few minutes.  This is when I added about another 1/4 C of flour, a little at a time, until I was happy with the dough.  If you're a bread baker, you'll know what I mean.  If you're new to this... I promise to make a generic "bread" post sometime, like I did with cookies.  For now, you want to be able to pick up the dough and handle it without it sticking to every damn thing it touches and leaving bits of itself behind.
4. When you're happy with the dough ball, put it in a greased bowl, cover with a towel, and let it rise until doubled in size (about an hour.  Mine went a few minutes longer, because I got caught up in something else.  No big deal.  Bread is much more forgiving than people think.).
5. Grease two 9x5 bread pans.  Punch down the dough, divide in half, and form it into two 9x5 rectangles.  Put 'em in the pans to rest under the towel while the oven preheats to 350F. (This secondary rise is called "proofing."  I let mine go about half an hour, until it looked like they were getting close to the tops of the pans, because I wanted nice, tall loaves.)  Bake for 35-40 minutes.  Brush tops with a little melted butter before removing them from pans to cool on a wire rack.
6. Try, very hard, to not eat all of the bread now.  It will probably make a good sandwich later.  Or maybe toast.

It's in the bag... el

Many years ago, I adopted a cookbook that technically belonged to my brother. A friend of his had bought it for him, and it focused on bread. I dedicated myself to learning how to make good bread, and tried the very first (simplest, easiest) recipe several times before I was finally happy with the dough. The bread itself never did turn out the way I'd hoped, but I later learned that was more because of the oven I was using (real bakeries use stone or brick ovens baking at much higher temperatures than the one in most people's kitchens, and that does a lot to provide the hard, crusty exterior I'd wanted). At some point, my brother reclaimed his book, but Dad bought me my own copy for Christmas.  Maybe he knew how much I enjoyed making the bread; maybe he was just taking advantage of the fact that I lived with him at the time, and he enjoyed the results of my efforts.  Could go either way.

I was particularly excited to find a recipe for bagels in the book. It was one of those things I'd never considered before: I never knew anyone who made them, but it made sense that you could, because where else would they come from? Glorious bagel trees? Because I would move to that orchard today. In the years since, they have become one of my signature items. My bagels are a little ugly, but they are big, and toast wonderfully. A friend in Colorado will freeze my bagels for weeks to savor them. My aunt once marveled, "Even your mom never made bagels," thus providing some of the highest culinary praise I've ever received. I've made them so often that I have the recipe memorized, and baked batches in my mind while laying awake in my tent along the Appalachian Trail.

Here's what the Brothers Einstein don't want you to know: it's really easy to make bagels. What's hard is not eating an entire batch straight out of the oven. Below is the recipe from my first bread book, with only a couple small adjustments from my own experience.

Bagels
2 t dry yeast
1 1/2 T sugar
1 1/4 C warm water
3 3/4 C flour
1 1/2 t salt
egg (for egg wash)
1/2 t salt
toppings (sesame seeds, poppy seeds, and coarse sea salt are popular choices)

1. Sprinkle yeast and sugar into 1/2 C of the water. Let stand 5 minutes, stir to dissolve.
2. While the yeast is standing in the water, combine flour and salt in a large bowl, then use the spoon to make a "well" in the center.
3. Pour the dissolved yeast and about half the remaining water into the well.  Stir in flour from the sides of the well, and add more water, as necessary, to make a firm, moist dough. I've found that I have to give up on the spoon at some point and start kneading before all the flour is drawn in to the dough. Otherwise, you'll be tempted to add more water than you need to get all the flour involved, but trust me--the dough ball in the mixing bowl is wetter than it looks, and you'll be able to work in plenty more flour while kneading.
4. Knead the dough for about ten minutes, working in the remaining flour if necessary. You can add more flour at this point to get the dough very firm.
5. Put the dough in a clean bowl and cover with a dish towel. Let it rise until doubled, about an hour. Punch down, and let it rest for ten minutes.
6. Separate the dough into eight equal pieces. Gently roll each one between your palms to get a round ball, then (this is the fun part) pinch the center of the ball between your thumb and  forefinger until they meet, and tear a little hole there.  Stick a finger from each hand through the hole and twirl them a little to widen the hole. Repeat with the remaining seven dough balls, and set them on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet to rest for ten minutes.
7. While the proto-bagels are resting, set your oven to 425F and let it preheat. Then put about two inches of water in a pan and get it boiling. If you want to top your bagels, make an egg wash by cracking an egg into a teacup, adding a little salt, and beating it with a fork.
8. Turn the water down to a simmer and drop bagels into it one or two at a time (depending on the size of your pot). Cook each bagel for a minute, flipping them halfway through. My pot can boil two bagels at a time, and when I remove each pair back to the parchment-lined baking sheet, I brush them with egg wash and sprinkle them with seeds or sea salt while the next pair boils. I count to thirty a lot while making bagels, which makes it very difficult for me to have a conversation with anyone during this step.
9. When your bagels have been boiled, brushed, and seeded, pop them in the oven for 20-25 minutes. I usually forget how long they've been in there (this never happens with most things I bake, which is weird), but I can always tell when they're done by the lovely golden-brown color of the tops. Remove to wire rack to cool.

Boiling the bagels is an important step. Do not skip it. Boiling is what gives bagels that shiny, chewy outside and the tender inside. Without boiling, these are just rolls with holes.

These are not standard bagels. These are from an experimental batch of pumpkin bagels.

Pumpkin Pretzels

During my difficulties last fall with measuring pumpkins, I ended up with 2/3 C puree leftover and thawed, and in urgent need of use.  The last time something like that happened, I made some experimental pumpkin bagels, which were ok, but not extraordinary.  I was going to do that again, mainly because I wanted bagels, when I decided to make pretzels instead.

How those monks thought this looked like children's hands praying, I'll never know.  I suspect some of that famous German beer was involved.

I'd made pretzels before.  Mine puff up an awful lot, so you really get pretzel-shaped sandwich buns, but... how is that a problem?

But there was still a problem.

I've made it clear that I'm not a pro, and I'm not an expert.  That's the whole point.  My aim is not to impress people with what I can do, but impress upon them what they can do.  That's why I'm willing to share some failures here, as well.

Not that these pretzels were a failure, mind you--they were damn tasty pretzels.  You just couldn't tell they had any pumpkin in them, and if you can't tell it happened, then why do it?

Since this formula is not worth replicating, I'm not posting how I did it here, but I'll still show you the pictures, and I promise that sometime--maybe before this post goes live during my hike--I'll make pretzels again, and post that recipe instead.

Pass the mustard and get out of my way.

go bananas

When I unloaded the car from a recent "camping" trip, I discovered that the bananas which made it all the way home were in no fit state of banananess.  The backs of two of them were very soft from bruising, probably a result of fitting three adults and their collection of food and winter gear into my fierce but tiny car.  It's a wonder we didn't all have soft spots.  My revulsion at sinking into the fruit was short-lived; soft bananas means it's time for banana bread.

I used to use a recipe from Betty Crocker when I made banana bread, but it called for buttermilk, which I never have, and always substituted an equal amount of milk, curdled with the addition of 1-2 t lemon juice and half an hour of time.  Now I prefer the recipe from The Complete Family Cookbook, a tome Dad has in his kitchen, and which, after extensive searching, he found in a secondhand bookstore.  He got copies for my brother and I, and despite the age-yellowed pages (the only date I can find on it is 1969), my copy seems untouched.

Many years ago, before I moved to Oregon, I was talking to a  co-worker about my plans to make banana bread that night (still using BC's formula), and I mentioned that I wasn't sure I had chocolate chips.  He was appalled, certain that chocolate chips in banana bread would be a mistake.  I was equally appalled, as I knew from years of Mom's baking that chocolate chips belong in banana bread in the same way that cheese belongs in an omelet; it can be done without, but why would you bother?  My plan this time hinged on the bag of morsels I knew was on the bottom shelf of the fridge, but I was sidetracked by one of the variations suggested in the cookbook: prune nut banana bread.  Thing is, I'm not crazy about prunes, but I knew we had dried apricots, and I love those little buggers.  We also had pecans, but I toyed with the idea of going apricot-chocolate chip.

Prune Apricot Pecan Banana Bread
3/4 C sugar
1/2 C oil
2 eggs
1 C mashed bananas (wait until they're bruised badly or WAY too ripe--it makes for easier mashing)
1 3/4 C flour
2 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1/2 C chopped pecans
1/2 C chopped dried apricots (coarser chopping means larger chewy chunks later.  Keep that in mind if you like larger chewy chunks, but don't just throw them in whole, because you still need to slice the bread, you animal)

Two bananas mash into one cup.  Your results may vary according to bananas.

• Preheat oven to 325F.
• Combine sugar, oil, and eggs in large bowl. Beat until frothy.  Add fruit and nuts, mix well.  Mix in dry ingredients.

Add apricots, pecans, and bananas; mix well.

• Pour into greased 9" x 5" loaf pan.  Bake for 1 hour, until brown and a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean (As the loaf bakes and expands, it will develop a crack running along the middle of the top of the loaf.  If appearance concerns you, poke the toothpick in here, where it won't disturb the crust and leave a nice-looking loaf intact).  Let it cool ten minutes in the pan before removing to a wire rack.  You may need to run a butter knife around the loaf inside the pan to loosen it a little.

One administrative note: if you follow my other blog, you know that I'm going to spend a good chunk of this year backpacking.  Monday will be my first day on the trail.  Backpackers eat a lot of crap, and do very little actual cooking.  Most of the time it's a matter of boiling water and adding carbs.  If I get creative, I'll stir some peanut butter into my noodles for calories and protein, and pretend it's Thai food.  Suffice to say, most of you won't be interested in my food over the summer unless you already follow my other blog.  But fear not!  Knowing this day would come, I've been stockpiling lots of posts to get you through the summer, although we're switching from Weekly to Bi-weekly until I return from my trip.  I did get a little ahead of myself, though, so the bi-weekly schedule won't start for a couple weeks.  We still have to try beef stew and some cookies (no surprise there).  And I still might wedge in a couple food-related posts from the trail.  Check back often, or Follow this blog to get all the updates.

Happy Trails,
Ryan

Game Day Food

Apparently there's some sort of big game this weekend?  Or maybe a commercial showcase extravaganza?  I'm not real clear on the nature of the event, but I understand an awful lot of people are going to spend Sunday sitting on the couch, stuffing their faces, and screaming excitedly at the magical picture box.

Sounds like a good day for pretzels! (source: bread book)

2 t dry yeast (or one packet, whatever)
1 1/4 C warm water
3 3/4 C flour
1 1/2 t salt
egg glaze (beat an egg and 1/2 t salt in a tea cup, coffee mug, or small measuring glass.  Not right now--make it when you need it, just before baking)
sesame seeds, poppy seeds, or coarse sea salt, for topping

• Sprinkle yeast into 1/2 C water in a small bowl.  Let stand 5 minutes, then stir to dissolve.  While you're waiting, mix flour and salt in a large bowl.  Make a well in the center and pour in the dissolved yeast.
• Use a wooden spoon to draw in enough of the flour to form a soft paste.  Cover bowl with a dish towel and let "sponge" about 20 minutes.  The wet paste will become frothy and risen.
• Mix in the rest of the flour.  Stir in remaining water, as needed, to form soft, sticky dough.
• Knead 10 minutes, until smooth and elastic, then put the dough in a clean bowl and let rise until doubled in size (1 1/2 to 2 hours).  Punch down dough, then allow it to rest for 10 minutes.  (I usually need to sit down for about ten minutes after getting punched, too, depending on where I get it)
• Divide dough into eight equal pieces.  Roll out each piece with your hands--remember making snakes with Play-Doh?  Same deal--until the dough snake is about 16 inches long.  Form the snake into pretzel shapes.  The easiest way is to copy the technique you see at the mall food court, though maybe at a slower speed.  Bring the ends close, give them a full twist around each other, then fold the twist back towards the loop you've made and press the ends into the dough of the loop, making the shape below.

• Place the pretzels on a parchment-paper lined baking sheet (I always use parchment paper on baking sheets when making bread.  I may not always need it, but it sure is handy), cover with a clean dishtowel, and allow to proof (proofing is a secondary rise, after the dough is formed) until doubled in size, about 45 minutes.
• Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 425F and make your egg glaze.
• Brush the pretzels with egg glaze and sprinkle with whatever toppings you like.  Bake 15-20 minutes, until golden brown and delicious-looking.  Cool on a wire rack.

Get the mustard.  GET IT NOW!!

The first time I made pretzels was nearly a decade ago, when I was still getting the hang of bread dough, and I got very frustrated, and a little annoyed.  Since then, I've gotten better with bread dough, and now I love making pretzels.  This batch was made when I decided to make bagels, then changed my mind just before I started.  Admittedly, they close up quite a bit while baking, and the end result is more like a pretzel-shaped sandwich bun than an actual pretzel, but I don't see how that's a problem.  Pretzel buns are very trendy these days, and it gives you some options for how to eat them.

Pumpkin Bread Another Way

As I mentioned, despite my best intentions, I keep screwing up the amounts of thawed pumpkin I have on hand.  When I went to make the pumpkin pie for the Chief Taster's family's Thanksgiving, I read the recipe card (in my own handwriting, thus removing my last excuse) and found that I didn't need 2 C of puree, but 1.5.  This explained why my previous pie barely fit in the crust--I had used 2 C for that one.

I did it right for Thanksgiving, but then I had a tiny portion of leftover pumpkin, and I wasn't really sure what to do with it.  A couple weeks ago, I remembered it was still in the fridge, and I figured I should use it or toss it, and I hate to throw food away, so I decided to make pumpkin bread again.  I was all wound up for it when I remembered that I needed 1 C for a half-batch, and I only had 1/2 C.  Then I measured it (good call), and found that I really only had about 1/4 C.

But I still wanted to bake something, because it had been raining all day, and I was done working on Plan B for a while, and I had Spanish Chicken simmering away in the Crock Pot for five more hours, and it felt like fall, dammit, so I wanted to bake something.  Still, I only had 1/4 C of pumpkin puree.

Of course, there's also some leftover sour cream in the fridge that will pass its Use By date in a few more days.  Pumpkin puree is sort of creamy.  Sour Cream Pumpkin Bread doesn't sound like a bad idea, per se.

Kids: this will NOT taste like a creamsicle.

So I did it.  What follows is a sort-of recipe, or at least a record of what I did.

3/4 C pumpkin puree/sour cream slurry (I had about 1/4 C puree and 1/2 C sour cream.  I might have gone with 3/4 C sour cream, but that was all I had.)
1/2 plus 1/3 C sugar
1/3 C vegetable oil
1 t vanilla
2 large eggs
1.5 C flour (you can use whole wheat if you want.  Go ahead.  Pretend this is healthy.)
1 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
3/4 t ground cinnamon
1/4 t ground cloves
1/4 t baking powder
1/2 C chocolate chips

1. Move oven rack so the tops of the loaves will be in the middle of the oven, and preheat it to 350F.  Grease just the bottom of an 8x4 inch pan.
2. Combine pumpkin slurry, sugar, oil, vanilla, and eggs.  Mix well.  Really well.  Don't leave any lumps of sour cream.  Add everything except the chips. Mix well.  Add chips.  Mix again.
3. Pour batter into loaf pan.
4. Bake 50 to 60 minutes (I was closer to 65 before the toothpick test passed).  Check with a toothpick (inserted in the center, it should come out clean.  If it doesn't, give it a few more minutes).  Cool 10 minutes before removing from pan to wire rack.

Pumpkin bread the (almost) right way

Around the same time we went apple picking, I bought a couple small pie pumpkins at the grocery.  We had just had our first day of fall weather (it dipped below 60F for almost an hour one afternoon), and I was all fired up for warm baked goods, stews, soups, and cocoa.  Plus, we were going to go share a cabin and some hiking with friends who had requested pumpkin pie.  I had big plans for apple butter (check), pumpkin pies (multiple requests to fill), pumpkin cinnamon rolls (pending), and I had theorized a formula for apple walnut cinnamon rolls (still just a theory--I ran out of apples).  Then, because it's Virginia, temperatures climbed back into the 70s and 80s for several weeks.  I've lived here for almost two years, and I'm convinced that there are two seasons: Way Too Warm, and Slightly Less Warm Than The Other Season.

But I digress.

After roasting and pureeing the pumpkin, I sealed it in handy 2 Cup portions and tucked them away in the freezer.  I got three or four portions of that size, and an additional 2/3 C, which is coincidentally the exact amount that I need for SK's pumpkin cinnamon rolls (I've made them before, and sometimes find myself in mid-July wishing fall would hurry up and fall so I can make them again).  I took this as a sign of kismet smiling upon me: I was meant to have those cinnamon rolls.

Naturally, after making a batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies (1C pumpkin required), I screwed up and grabbed the 2/3 C portion when I wanted the 1 C leftover portion and... anyway, despite my luck in picking pumpkin puree portions, I've been doing ok--except that I was excited about all the 2 C portions, perfect for pies, before I realized I only need 1.5 C for a pie.  I didn't look too closely at the recipe when I made that first pie, and was puzzled when I barely got the filling to fit in the crust.  In fact, I didn't figure that out until just before I sat down to write this post, four pumpkin recipes later.

One of those recipes was pumpkin bread.  I knew I had that 1 C of leftover puree in the fridge (when I realized I had the 2/3 C portion thawed, I just made pumpkin pretzels, only to realize I couldn't taste the pumpkin at all.  Whoops), and I had already checked the recipe, so I knew that would work.  Except I forgot that I had determined it would be enough for a half recipe, and didn't halve anything else as I happily dumped ingredients in a great big bowl, so I had to thaw a 2 C portion and make a bigger batch of bread.

For someone who used to be good at math, I've been terrible at tracking pumpkin fractions this fall.

Pumpkin Bread (adapted from Betty Crocker)

2 C pumpkin puree (or one 15 oz can--don't use the pie mix.  Just pumpkin puree)
1 2/3 C sugar
2/3 C vegetable oil
2 t vanilla
4 large eggs
3 C flour (you can use whole wheat if you want.  Go ahead.  Pretend this is healthy.)
2 t baking soda
1 t salt
1 t ground cinnamon
1/2 t ground cloves
1/2 t baking powder
1/2 C chocolate chips
1/2 C chopped pecans (the original recipe called for 1/2 C each of raisins and coarsely chopped nuts, but I wanted chocolate.  I threw in the pecans more because I had them handy than because Betty told me to.)

1. Move oven rack so the tops of the loaves will be in the middle of the oven, and preheat it to 350F.  Grease just the bottom of a 9x5 inch pan (or two 8x4s).
2. Combine pumpkin, sugar, oil, vanilla, and eggs.  Mix well.  Add everything except the chips and nuts. Mix well.  Add chips and nuts.  Mix again.
3. Pour batter into loaf pan(s).
4. Bake a 9x5 for 70 to 90 minutes.  Bake 8x4s 50 to 60 minutes.  Check with a toothpick (inserted in the center, it should come out clean.  If it doesn't, give it a few more minutes).  Cool 10 minutes before removing from pan to wire rack.

The recipe says you should let it cool completely (around 2 hours) before slicing, but seriously?  You're going to look at this thing of beauty and think, "nah, I don't need to stuff that in my face right now, while it's still warm and the chocolate's gooey, and it smells so good and--" (furious chewing noises).

All or Naan

I still haven't gotten the hang of Indian food, but I will occasionally fake something similar (lately, using a jar I picked up at a food fair back in Oregon and only recently opened).  I use this as an excuse to do something I know I can do: make passable naan.

My recipe comes from the excellent and well-illustrated Bread.  I've only made it a couple times, but it works well with dinner (obviously), and I usually end up eating pieces for breakfast or lunch for the next couple days.

I'm having naan of it.

2 t dry yeast
1 C milk
4 C all-purpose flour
1 1/2 t salt
1 t sugar
3 T plain yogurt (I think I actually used vanilla flavored yogurt once--that's good, too)
2 T ghee or unsalted butter, melted (I can't find ghee and haven't yet learned how to make it, so I used butter)

1. Sprinkle yeast in 1/2 C milk.  Let stand 5 minutes, stir to dissolve.  In a large bowl, combine flour ans salt, then make a well in the center.  Add the melted butter, dissolved yeast, sugar, and yogurt.
2. Mix in the flour from the sides of the well.  Add remaining milk as needed to get a stiff, slightly sticky dough.  (the book says "stiff, sticky" dough.  I have trouble managing dough that is genuinely sticky, and I suspect you do, too.  You're not going for chewing gum stuck to your shoe consistency here; you just want it to feel a little tacky as you handle it.  You should be able to easily free your hand from the dough ball after picking it up)
3. Knead ten minutes.
4. Let rise until doubled.  It may take 3-4 hours.  Plan accordingly.
5. Punch down, let rest for ten minutes.
6. I diverge from the book again here.  It says to divide the dough into four pieces, then roll them to 1/4 thick and about 6 inches in diameter.  The math doesn't work.  I can get them to achieve one of those dimensions, not both.  So I divide it into 8 pieces, roll them to the specified thickness, and if they are still a little big in diameter, that's ok.  Make naan of manageable size.
7. Preheat your broiler on the highest setting (mine only has one setting, so that was easy).  Another side note here: If you have an electric oven, the broiler is probably at the top.  If you have a gas oven, the broiler is definitely at the bottom.  This has caused me trouble in the past, but it works fine for the naan.  Just move your oven rack to the bottom.  If you're using an electric oven, move the rack to the top, but maybe not all the way to the top.  These will puff up A LOT, and you don't want to burn the tops of them.  Much.
8. Preheat the baking sheet for 2-3 minutes.  Put a couple dough rounds on the sheet (I can usually fit three of my smaller rounds on my sheets.  It should be easy to gauge, because while they will expand upward--sometimes an awful lot--they don't expand outward) and bake 2-3 minutes on each side, until puffy and golden.
9. Stack baked breads on top of each other on a wire rack.  Cover with a clean, dry cloth to prevent drying.  Eat that night if possible.  Otherwise, they toast well, but the smooth outer texture makes spreading stuff like cream cheese nearly impossible.  Jelly might work.

Purple, glazed

I've been talking a lot lately about raspberries, because it is summer, they are in season, and delicious.  Also, I remember when I was a kid and Dad would take off with two or three of those gallon ice cream buckets and come back hours later with each one piled high, even spilling over, with raspberries.  Later in the summer, it was blackberries.  At the time, I accompanied him sometimes, but not always.  Now, I wish I'd done more of that.  Dad goes to farms to get his berries now, because the wild bushes have been choked out by honeysuckle.  When he told me this, I finally understood his complete enmity for this invasive species.  He missed the berries; I do, too.  The bowl in the picture below has about two quarts of berries in it, all from Dad's yard in a single morning.  Honeysuckle is not welcome in Dad's yard.

If you finish picking black raspberries and your fingers aren't purple, you're doing it wrong, or not enough.

On the off chance that you've never picked your own raspberries, this is all you need to know about selection: try a couple off the bush.  If they are delicious, keep picking the ones that look like what you just ate.  If they look dried out, forget them.  If it looks like eight bugs have each chewed a tunnel through it, skip it.  If the berry is so plump and wet-looking that it falls off the stem, it's too far gone.  There should be just a little resistance, and they should look like this:

...unless they're red raspberries.  Then they'll be bigger, longer, red, and have different leaves.

Got it?  Great.  Go pick some berries, and I'll wait here.  If you only want to make this recipe, you'll need about 1 1/3 C of black raspberries.  If you want pie, get more berries.  It's ok to overshoot--you can just eat the surplus.

A few months ago I discovered Smitten Kitchen, who does all of this better than I do, and has a book out to prove it.  I don't remember what originally brought me to the site, but I know that my attention was focused on this phrase: Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls.  I wasn't sure I should go sticking bacon in them, but I wanted to try them, and I was going to buy a pie pumpkin anyway.  The results were so good that I made them again a week later to share with Dad.  Thinking of the bounty of berries in Dad's fridge this July, I was struck with an idea: swap pumpkin goo for mashed berries.  I also thought I should throw in some walnuts, because "raspberry-walnut cinnamon rolls" sounded pretty good.  This recipe is almost identical to SK's, because it's a first draft, and I knew that formula would work, but I already have some ideas for changes.  Instead of telling you what I changed, I'm going to leave that link for the original above, and write what you need for my version here.

Dough:

4 T butter, melted

1/2 C whole milk, warmed

2 1/4 t (one packet) active dry yeast

3 1/2 C flour (plus extra for kneading and rolling)

1/4 C granulated sugar

1/4 C packed dark brown sugar (you could use light brown, but why bother?)

1 t salt

1 t cinnamon

1/4 t nutmeg

1/4 t ground ginger

1/8 t cardamon (I might have had closer to 1/4 t in mine--I'm usually pretty generous with spices)

2/3 C mashed berries (you will need about twice this much pre-mashing)

1 large egg

oil or shortening for coating bowl

Filling:

2 T melted/really softened butter

3/4 C dark brown sugar

1/4 C granulated sugar

1/8 t salt

2 t cinnamon

crushed/chopped walnuts (about half a cup, but do whatever you want)

Note: I think I would have been fine with about half as much of both sugars, and it probably would have been a little easier to roll)

Glaze:

4 oz cream cheese, softened

2 C powdered sugar

2 T milk

1 t vanilla (optional)

How to make the purplest things you will ever bake:

• Combine the warmed milk and yeast in a bowl.  Set aside for 5-7 minutes.  Meanwhile, get a big bowl and combine flour, sugars, salt and spices.  Make a well in the middle and dump in the melted butter.  Mix in some of the flour from the sides of the well.  It will look like this:



If you change your mind about the rolls, this might work as wallpaper paste.

• The yeast should be pretty foamy by now.  Add it to your big bowl, along with the egg and mashed berries.

This spoon may never be un-stained.

• Mix the whole mess together.  This is about when I started laughing, because I really didn't expect the color change to be so striking.

If this were normal dough, you'd never notice all those unmixed white bits of butter and flour.

• Knowing I had reached a point where the spoon wasn't going to cut it anymore, this is about when I took the dough out of the bowl and started kneading it.  It is really sticky dough, and I handled this in the usual way: gradually adding flour, a little bit at a time.  I ended up working in 1/3 to 1/2 C of additional flour by the time I could easily handle it.  Grease a large bowl, and stick the purple Play-Doh doughball in to rise.  Cover it and give it about an hour, until it doubles in size.  Luckily, it will not double in purpleness.

I started laughing while mixing.  I continued to laugh at every stage of the process after that, including while I ate them.

• Just before you're ready to work the dough again, mix the sugars and cinnamon for the filling.  DO NOT mix in the butter.  You can mix in the walnuts, but I don't recommend it; it will be hard to spread.
• Punch down the dough, flop it on a clean counter (SK and others will advise a floured counter, but I've gotten by without the flour on every occasion I've ever made cinnamon rolls), and flatten it using hands or a roller to a rectangle that's about 15" x 10".  I'll level with you: I've never measured that rectangle.  I eyeball it, and if the rectangle is a little longer than my 9x13, I'm happy.  I've reached a point where I know the rectangle is the right size because of the dough thickness and the length, and I let the width take care of itself.

The flash pooched the picture, but that's a lot of purple.

• Drizzle your butter over the dough.  Using a spatula or butter knife, spread it over the rectangle's entire top surface except for a 1-1.5" margin along the back side (it will make it easier to seal the rolls later).  Do the same thing with your cinnamon-sugar mix.  If you decided to add the walnuts, sprinkle them on now, trying to get even coverage--don't forget the left and right edges, or you'll have a couple little rolls without much (or any) filling.

If anything spills off, or out of the ends while rolling and cutting, scoop it up later and dump it across the top of the rolls.  It will get hidden under glaze, and nobody will know.

• Starting at the long edge closest to you, roll the dough into a long cylinder.  It will look like a spiral from the end.  This recipe has a lot of sugar in the filling, and my walnuts were in pretty big pieces.  Both factors made rolling tricky.  The sugar layer was so thick that I had to be careful to not just push it ahead of the roll, and it kept the layers of dough from sticking to each other as well as they do with my other cinnamon roll recipe.  Be warned.
• Did I mention you should grease your 9x13?  No?  Ok, do that, then get a sharp serrated knife (I like to use a bread knife, but a steak knife will work, too) and carefully--using little to no downward pressure--saw the purple log into 15 roughly equal segments.  As you cut each one off the end of the roll, turn it on its side and put it in the 9x13.  You should get three rows of five rolls.  There probably won't be much room between them, and that's ok, because it means that as they rise, they will get taller.  When you have the rolls in and the extra sugar sprinkled over the top, you have two options.
• cover tightly and let them rise for 45 minutes
• cover tightly and stick 'em in the fridge overnight (so you can have fresh, piping-hot rolls for breakfast) and pull them out an hour before you want to start baking them.  Keep the baking time in mind when you tell people when breakfast will be.

just before baking.  You can see some of the surplus sugar in the second row.

• Take any covers you might have applied off the pan and bake at 350F for 25 minutes.  This is a good time to make the glaze.

Almost ready to devour.  The whole kitchen smelled like raspberries.  It was outstanding.  If they had turned out to taste terrible, I probably would have cried.

• Cream the cream cheese.  I know, it sounds weird, but it will make mixing easier.  Add the powdered sugar and mix this as well as you can.  It won't really go together well at first, but don't lose hope.  Add vanilla, if you feel like it.  Add the milk that you need (up to 2 T) to get a good consistency.  I only needed 1T this time to get a spreadable glaze.  More might get you a drizzly consistency.  Do whatever you want, then apply generously to the rolls.  Remember that they'll be easier to serve if you can see the edges of individual rolls.

No tears necessary.

However good you think these look, I promise that they tasted even better.  It's just as well that we live in an apartment and don't have a yard full of raspberry bushes, because if I were able to make these things all summer, I'd have a very hard time thinking of any reason at all why I shouldn't.

The Bread-Winner's Bread Baker

The Chief Taster is a creature of habits.  When she (and later we) lived in Arlington, she would go to the Farmers' Market every Saturday morning.  On alternate Saturdays, she would buy a single loaf of a very particular bread, slice it, and have one piece of it toasted every morning until it was gone.  Then she bought a new loaf.

Until we moved.

There is still a local Farmers' Market on Saturday mornings, but this one doesn't have the same bakery.  She bemoaned the loss of her ritualistic loaf.

I stepped up to the challenge.  Keep in mind, the loaf detailed below is not a perfect match to her original choice, nor do I consider it a final draft, but to get a closer approximation, I need to include a sourdough starter.  This alone is a three to five day project, and I'm not always sure five days in advance of whether I'll be in my kitchen, or even in the same state as my kitchen, so this version will have to do for now.  Luckily, she's already pretty happy with it, and there is every likelihood that this new habit will become so ingrained by the time I can revise the recipe that she will thumb her nose at the new version.

Do you have a wire rack where your bread can cool?  It will allow airflow under the loaf and keep the bottom from getting soggy.

Bread-Winner's Bread

2 C warm water

2 T molasses

1 C rolled oats

1 C rye flour

2 C whole wheat flour

4 t dry yeast

2 T melted butter

2 t salt

4 t sunflower seeds

4 t sesame seeds

4 t poppy seeds

4 t caraway seeds

4 t flax seeds

2-3 C all purpose flour

1. Pour water into a large bowl.  Add molasses, oats, rye flour, and 1 C wheat flour, and mix.  Add yeast.  Stir well.  Cover with a dish towel and let it "sponge" for about 20 minutes.
2. Add 1 C whole wheat flour, melted butter, salt, seeds, and about 1.5 C all-purpose flour.  Mix together, drop the dough ball onto a clean, dry surface, and knead until cohesive (about ten minutes).  Add flour as necessary.
3. Put in a clean bowl, cover with a dish towel, and rise until doubled, about 1 hour.
4. Lightly grease two 8"x4" loaf pans.  Punch down and divide into two equal dough lumps.  Gently squeeze and shape each lump into loaf shapes, roughly the size of the inside of your loaf pans, and put each loaf in a pan.  Cover with a dish towel and proof for half an hour.
5. Apply an egg wash, slit the tops of each loaf, and bake in a preheated oven for 30-35 minutes.

This was taken during Step 1, after ingredients have been mixed together. Then you put a dishtowel over the bowl and leave it on a warm area of the counter for twenty minutes.  Now go look at the next picture.

This is the same bowl of stuff after "sponging."  The yeast has started its work, and bubbles are forming.  You can tell even in this picture the dough is slightly risen, and looks like it's been inflated a little.  Think of this as a very rudimentary starter.

This recipe makes two loaves, which I can slice pretty thin, and the Chief Taster only eats one slice a day, so this batch can be frozen after slicing, and it will last her for a month or more.  Your results may vary.  I know I eat two or three slices of this every time I make it when it's still warm from the oven and the butter melts right into it.  I think it's best then, but it also toasts well.  When it's fresh, I can pick up the sweetness of the molasses and smell the caraway seeds.

Counter clockwise from center: melted butter, whole wheat flour, sunflower seeds, flax seeds, caraway seeds, sesame seeds, and poppy seeds.  You don't have to add yours in orderly lines, but I thought they'd photograph better like this.

During early trials of this recipe (which started as an adaptation of one I found online and quickly mutated to a unique creation through my efforts and her feedback), she once told me, "this is good, but make it more like this."  After I pointed out that nothing can ever be more like itself than it already is, she asked for more whole wheat flour and more seeds.  I added a little more yeast, because I wanted larger loaves with a more open crumb.

Here's another before-and-after.  This is the doughball after kneading, before rising.

This is the same doughball, one hour later.  Pretty impressive, huh?  Be sure to put a dishtowel over your dough while rising to keep it from getting too dry.

The recipe we have now has a nice, soft crumb that is still strong enough to be easily sliced, and even used for sandwiches, if you like a somewhat undersized sandwich.  The crust is softer than I would prefer, but it's still well-suited to her purposes, and the addition of an egg wash gave it a nice color.  Slicing the top of each loaf corner to corner about 1/2" deep just before baking allows the loaf to expand a little in the oven without producing irregular tears and cracks.  Think of it as a crumple zone for your crust.

section view

Finally, a word about intellectual property.  I don't know how it works with recipes, but here's the thing: I invented this.  This loaf is my brain-baby.  I encourage you to make it for the breadwinner in your life (yourself, for example), or anyone else you choose, but if you start selling it, I want a cut.  Blogging does not pay my rent.

The bread-winner does.

Apple Cinnamon Muffins

Dad bought us a pair of muffin pans for Christmas, and as of this writing, I've only used them to make two things (multiple times each): popovers, and apple cinnamon muffins.  I have no regrets, but someday soon I'm going to try some other muffins, and maybe, if I get extremely ambitious, tiny pies.

In the meantime, there are muffins.  I got the recipe from Betty Crocker, but the one she posted online uses Bisquick, and that's not what I have in my book.

Start by slicing the apples thin.  You can peel them first, but  if you chop them finely, it really doesn't matter, and you get better fiber and nutrient content this way.  Also, I am lazy.

Stack up a few slices and cut them in both remaining directions.

Got everything in the bowl?  Good.  Mix it up.  If you feel it needs more cinnamon, or nutmeg, or maybe even a little ground cloves, those are all good.  Anything that works in an apple pie works in apple muffins.

Admittedly, this looks pretty awful now, but this is just a big pile of batter (with raw egg), so you shouldn't eat it,  anyway.

Spoon your batter into the muffin cups after greasing the bottoms only.  The recipe I have says it makes a dozen muffins, so I just try to get roughly the same amount in each cup.

After baking.  The Girl prefers them with streusel topping, but I had an eight-hour drive ahead of me, so I was lazy that morning.

Rosemary Raisin Bread

I got this recipe from a bread book my dad bought me a few years ago; it remains my favorite bread book, for at least three reasons:

1. there are lots of big, pretty pictures of bread.  It's like bakery porn in there, without the lingering suspicions of spoons and syrups.
2. the recipes don't even start until page 71, because everything up to that point is lurid descriptions of ingredients, methods, tools, and processes involved in making bread.  For someone whose background is in engineering (and who maintains a ravening curiosity of How Food Works), it's fascinating stuff.  This book remains the only cookbook I've ever just sat down and read.
3. this is the book that taught me how to bake bread.  It took me a while, but I got there.  It also has three vital recipes: bagels (which I've since memorized from making them so often), cheesy sexy bread (not what the book calls it, but more fitting), and the basic bread I use as a base formula when making pepperoni rolls (also memorized)

It's a good thing I don't need to add any more ingredients, because that bowl is FULL.

You have to be careful not to add too much liquid to bread dough.  This mess looks too dry, but if you squish your fingers in there a little, you'll feel otherwise.  This is when I stopped stirring and started kneading, and easily drew in the rest of the flour in the bowl.

However, since it's a recipe in a book, and not something I can just link to online, I don't really know how copyright protects it, so I'm not posting it here.  There is a chance that I may have to support myself at some point by convincing people to pay money for things I write, and it would really annoy me if some yahoo with a blog just put my stuff out there for free.  Trust me--if you want to start making bread, this is a good purchase.

before rising

after rising.  I know the aspect ratio has changed, but you can still see it's bigger, and the texture has smoothed out a little.

Suffice to say it's something that I had wanted to try for a while, but it called for powdered milk, which isn't something I usually have.  After I bought a big box of it for backpacking, I realized the opportunity was now, which worked out well since we also had a bunch of fresh rosemary waiting to find a good use.

After rising and chafing, form two round loafs and set them well apart on the baking sheet to proof.

After baking.  I assume they smelled good, too.

I did screw up a little, though: I forgot I was basically out of flour until I had already mixed wet and dry stuff together, so this batch was almost entirely whole-wheat flour.  Luckily, it still rose well and was very tasty.

section view!