In the wake of my second millet loaf disaster, I decided to steer clear of millet flour for a while. Today's Tartine-style loaf started out with 170g of rye flour, but to that I added 200g of Barley flour, 200g of ww flour, and the rest was AP flour. My wife is seeing an acupuncturist for her sciatica, and he advised her to eat barley. These loaves were originally for her.
I needed to make more rye bread for me too, since the rye breads I made the other day were being given away. This was almost the actual Tartine Rye Recipe, at 170g of Rye flour; but for this loaf, I used 830g of Whole Wheat, used the whole wheat starter, brought the hydration to 85% and dusted it with a combination of rye meal and rice flour.
First time ever I used my wicker baskets with a tartine-style loaf and no couche liner. I dusted heavily, but I still worried it would stick. They did not.
The loaves were retarded overnight in the fridge, and baked in the morning.
My folks came by for a short visit. We gave them some fresh eggs from our backyard chickens, and I asked them if they also wanted to take home some fresh bread, too. I had these 4 loaves on the counter, and another 2 or 3 in the cupboards. My wife was actually a little frustrated that we had so much bread on hand, and I just kept making more.
"You want some bread too?" I asked them.
"No," my dad said, a little bit too quickly. It was blunt. There was no hint that he had even contemplated saying, "No, thank you" (like he had taught me to do, since I was knee-high to a grass-hopper).
He blinked. I blinked.
There was a long beat, a deep silence that enlarged the distance between us. Then I foolishly insisted he take some. I thrust a loaf of my newly made bread into a bag and set it on top of the eggs for him to take with him when he left, whether he wanted to or not, barely registering how his shoulders fell slightly, hardly seeing his frustration rise. He was annoyed at having to once again eat some of my bread.
You see, my dad is a "white bread" kind of guy. He likes his peanut butter, he likes his jam, but he likes it on toasted tasteless white bread, the stuff he is used to. And my bread -- even the white loaf I gave him, the one I made from all purpose and barley flour -- he simply doesn't like.
|This is what the barley flour loaf looked like just before adding salt|
Sorry Dad. But even if you don't like it, you can tear it up and throw it in your compost. The worms will like it.
My sweetie ate the remaining barley loaf, but before she finished it she complained that it staled quickly. Good thing she didn't have 2 loaves to get through.
|Signs of fermentation in the bread. |
Oh, that was the day I put some grapes through the Dampfentsafter.
|Barley bread can be sliced thin.|
But it won't hold jam, Dad: sorry.
|ww&17%Rye Sourdough with cracked rye crust|
|This Rye Bread was tasty|
Notes to Myself
- Do not force people to eat your bread, no matter how much you have on hand.
- I was particularly pleased with these rye loaves. They were so good. The cracked rye crust was especially tasty and interesting. The crumb was soft and tasty.