White Bread World

It all started with a message on my voice mail from Arnold Swartzenegger.  “Cawll me bawck,” he demanded. 

Needless to say, I called back. Luckily it wasn’t actually Arnold. It was my sister, and she was just kidding around. Her actual business was way more serious than most of the work of our favourite Austrian export.

 

“Do you know why the bread I made didn’t rise?”

“Well . . . it could be a lot of things . . ."

What followed was pretty much an interrogation.

Me: “Did you proof the yeast first?”

Brooke: “Uuuhmmm...”

Me: “Well, did the recipe tell you to mix the yeast with warm water before adding other stuff?”

Brooke: “Nope. I just mixed it all in.”

Me:“Okay, well that’s what Rhonda’s cousin does. It might help next time. Do you store your yeast in the fridge?”

Brooke: “No, it’s in the little packets.”

Me: “Did you check the expiry date?”

Brooke: “I just bought it!”

Me: “Oh, well that’s good then. So where did it rise? Is your house warm?”

And on it went for a little while, until we had exhausted most of the variables, and discussed many of the finer points of bread making in great detail. To be honest, we weren’t really able to get to the bottom of it, but the conversation really inspired me.

I have been making bread for a while now, but I can’t say I have ever been truly successful. I mean, I can do a pretty good job of the no-knead method, but it’s not the kind of bread you want to make a sandwich with, and it doesn’t really fit in the toaster. I decided it was time I really made bread right. And this time, I finally succeeded.

Before I get into the chemistry of bread, I want to tell you why bread is so fascinating to me.

First of all, bread is the stuff of life. It has been part of the human diet for thousands of years, ever since someone put flour and water together and cooked it over a fire. Since then, humanity has been working to perfect the art and science of bread. Somewhere along the line, they added yeast to the dough (probably in some other form, but who am I kidding, I am not a historian!), and found out it could really make that bannock more palatable! And the rest is history.

Of course, I doubt that the bread I make looks anything like the bread that was made by my ancestors, but I guess that’s the beauty of modern life. It’s true, I didn’t harvest the wheat or mill the flour myself, nor did I haul the water from the well, or even do whatever it is people to do make yeast. I guess that’s a lesson for another day. Still, I feel a lot closer to my ancestors, and the earth itself, when I mix those ingredients together and knead the bread into existence. So that’s why bread making appeals to me, and that’s why I think it belongs in this blog about living and eating closer to the earth.

White Bread (makes 2 loaves)

The most important thing to know about this bread recipe or any other is that the success of your bread has much more to do with environmental factors and accurate measurement than it does to do with the recipe itself. There is no such thing as the perfect bread recipe. It just doesn’t exist. If you want to make really good bread, read up on it, figure out the dos and don’ts, and then test yourself. Make basic white bread again and again until you get it right. Then, and only then, should you move on to something more advanced. Or so they say in the cookbooks. I always try the hardest thing first. So now I’m reverting to the basics.

Ingredients:

2 cups warm water (110 degrees Fahrenheit)
1/3 cup white sugar (feel free to use less- about 2 tbsp is standard)
1 ½ tbsp dry active yeast
1 ½ tsp salt
¼ cup olive oil
6 cups of hard white bread flour
flax seeds

Step 1: Water

It’s important to start with water at the right temperature. I know, it seems annoying and over the top to actually measure the water temperature, but I promise it’s worth it. The dough needs to be at the right temperature for the yeast to grow at the right speed—not too fast, not too slow. I don’t actually have anything better than a meat thermometer, but I figure that’s better than nothing at all. And I have to estimate where the 110 degree mark is because meat definitely needs to be hotter than warm water... but I measure! And that’s what matters.

So try to get the water to around 110 degrees F or 45 degrees C, and dissolve the sugar into it. Then stir in the yeast and let it sit for 10 minutes until it forms foam on the surface. This means the yeast is active. (If no foam forms, try again or use different yeast). Add the salt and the oil and combine.

Step 2: Mix it up

Now for the hard part. Start adding flour, one cup at a time, and mix with a wooden spoon until you have mixed in as much flour as you can. If you have a hook extension for your electric mixer, you can use that to help save you a bit of sweat. Once you get about 5 cups of flour mixed into the liquid, you’ll probably have a hard time adding any more. At this point, I transferred the dough to a floured surface and tried to knead in as much of the remaining flour as possible. Don’t fret if you don’t get it all to knead in, just do as much as you can. When you start kneading it should be a firm ball of dough.

Step 3: Do What you Knead To D

Kneading is weird. What you are technically trying to do is break down the bonds in the strings of gluten so that the bread is not too tough and chewy. The more you knead, the softer the bread should be. Simply push the dough into the counter with your palms repeatedly, fold, give the dough a ¼ turn, and do it all over again. If this seems awkward or if you wonder whether you’re doing it right, that’s normal. Like it said, kneading is weird. Just do what comes naturally. There is no right or wrong amount to knead, but generally recipes say to knead until smooth. I try to get as much flour in there as I can without making the dough too tough (it should retain some elasticity). The more you knead, the softer the bread is supposed to be, so don’t worry about kneading too much. If you are kneading by hand it is almost impossible to overdo it. 

Also, while I was kneading the bread in the pictures (which takes two hands, by the way-- it's hard to take a picture of that), I gradually added some flax seeds to the dough. You can do the same with a multigrain mixture, some nuts, or virtually any other dry ingredient you want in your bread. Keep in mind, however, that wet or moist ingredients may change the moisture content, which will inevitably change the overall consistency of the bread. So approach those ingredients with a little caution.

Step 4: The Long Rise

Once you’ve finished kneading, grease up a mixing bowl and put the dough inside, turning it a few times to get the oil to cover it. Now, place the bowl in a warm, draft-free place to rise. My house is pretty cold and drafty, so I put the bowl in the oven with another bowl of warm water beneath it, and I cover the bowl with a damp, warm towel. I also replace the bowl of warm water a few times during the rise. This really seems to help speed up the process.

Still, the recipe said it should only take 1 hour to rise, and I have to wait 2. The goal is for the dough to almost double in size, so let it take as long as it needs. If it doesn’t rise as much as you’d like, leave it a bit longer. If it still hasn’t quite doubled, it’s not the end of the world.

Step 5: The Short Rise

After the long rise is over, you get to punch the dough down. This is fun and kind of silly. The point is to try to get the bubbles and air out that have been formed by the yeast doing its chemical reaction thing. So it’s also a good idea to knead the dough a few more times at this point to make sure there are no bubbles in there. Then separate the dough into 2 loaves and shape them to fit 2 loaf pans (for this recipe, 9x5 pans work perfectly). If you want to roll them in flax or bran or whatever, now’s the time. Otherwise, place them in the bread pans and put them back in the oven for another rise.

Step 6: Baking

After about ½ hour, the bread should rise to about level with the top of the pan. At this point, you can remove the dough and preheat the oven to 350. Bake for about 30 minutes, or a bit longer if you like a crunchier crust. Once it’s finished, let it cool on a wire rack for a little while before removing it from the pan, in order to ensure that it maintains its proper shape.

And, voila!! Delicious, homemade white bread.

As previously mentioned, this is the first time I have been really successful, so don’t be fooled by how easy all of this sounds. But don’t be deterred, either. I learned today that making bread is really just the art of nursing a really fragile chemical reaction, and since there are so many variables, it’s hard to write perfect recipe for that reaction.

And finally, a note about flour, aka How to Make this Bread Whole Wheat

If you are bound and bent on making really good home made bread, a word of caution. The reason this bread turned out so well is because I used hard bread flour. This is flour that has more protein than All-Purpose or Cake and Pastry flour. As soon as you start playing with flour, you start playing with the amount of protein. And protein is what holds it all together, so you want to be careful doing this. The reason the bread you buy at the store is so soft is because they use dough conditioners and commercial equipment to make it. If you want to make home made whole wheat, start with adding some whole grain mixtures to your dough as you mix. If that works, try substituting a small amount ( 1 or 2 cups) of the hard whole wheat bread flour. You don't want to use much more than 50% whole wheat flour though, or you won't be happy with the result. 

If you want to try other kinds of bread, read up on the flours before you buy them. Hard white bread flour contains about 10% protein, so try to aim for that.

Good luck!