All grains contain peptides that mimic morphine or endogenous opioid substances. This is where I deal with my latest loaf craving. Get your bread-based exorphin fix here.

Showing posts with label challah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label challah. Show all posts

Monday, January 10, 2011

Reinhart's Transitional Challah


What happened when I made Reinhart's Transitional Challah

For some time now, I have been working my way through Peter Reinhart's book, Whole Grain Breads, trying to find my way clear to making use of more whole grains in my diet.  Along the way, I've had to battle, at various times, my own ignorance, preconceptions, attitudes, information overload, ennui, and whatever likes and dislikes I've picked up along the way both from my own tastes and my culturally imposed preferences, as I've tried to understand why or if I need to use more whole grains, how they ought to be best used to achieve health and nutritional benefits, and what sort of baking routine I can incorporate into my own life.  I can't say that I've been educated yet.  But finishing this particular bread brings me to a sort of plateau stage: this is the last of the enriched breads in the book.

Extended Rant Section

For some time now, I have been railing against how sweet these Reinhart breads taste.  Others who have tried the breads that I've made from these recipes have been astonished at the texture, the mouth-feel, of the loaves I've made, and have wondered if I have perhaps made a mistake in making them: the crumb is very moist, and yes, they are sweet, and yes, they seem more like cake than bread. 

While I expect and hope that the future loaves I make from this book  -- I am just about to start the "Hearth Breads" section -- will be closer to what I assumed I'd find when I began baking my way through this book, I'm not entirely convinced.  A quick look at the recipe-to-come, the whole wheat heart bread, shows me that it too has some added sugar in it.

Others seem to share the notion that Reinhart's breads are plenty sweet (e.g. see the recent-as-i-blog-this-today discussion here  following DMSnyder's quest for the perfect whole wheat bread: Snyder eventually goes on to compare Reinhart's Whole Wheat from the Bread Baker's Apprentice to the one in Whole Grain Breads.). 

Does the health benefit of the whole grain outweigh the high glycemic index of the simple carbohydrates used to make the bread more tasty?  I don't know the answer to this question.  I hear Reinhart and many other bakers say that good taste trumps all (for example, he says "Flavor Rules" and "Flavor is King" in his Ted Video when he was making the circuit to advertise this Whole Grain Breads book). 

Well, I beg to differ.  Flavor is not king.  Good taste does not trump all, except in the silo of bakeries that pander to common taste.  Sure, you can make breads that are sweet and that lots of people like.  But ultimately, are you doing your customers a service if they are dying of diabetes and heart disease because of what you feed them?  These days, we have to consider more than just taste.  We have to consider our health, and the health of the planet.

When I say the word "silo" I am referring to the way in which our knowledge seems to be gathered in stacks that are not well distributed.  We have farmers who grow the grains, who have a certain expertise; they buy the grain seed from suppliers who have a certain other expertise; they send the grain to mills that have a certain expertise; the flour has ingredients added to it that are mandated by the government based on recommendations by nutritional/medical science of decades ago, in order to curtail epidemics that were rife in those times; the scientists today have their own ideas about what additional additives ought to be put into our food, and these ideas are battled out in the test studies that are more or less funded by those who have an interest not in our health and well-being so much as making money from what they are lobbying for.  The baker who buys the flour has her own expertise.  And the consumer who will taste the bread knows what he thinks he knows, or what he is told he knows.

Each of these areas have their own area of expertise, and none of them are particularly interested in the expertise of the others.  They each live in a silo.  So the farmer is not particularly interested in how the seed is produced, except he wants it to be able to hardy, easy to grow, disease resistant, and fetch a good price in the market; the miller is not particularly interested in the grain, except that it should stand up to the milling process and the flour that is produced should find a buyer who is interested in its properties as a food ingredient; the government is not interested in the flour except as a foodstuff that is only nourishing enough to keep its taxpayers alive up until the age of 65 when they become more of a liability than an asset; the scientists have their own vested interests based on what they are trying to prove and for whom; the baker doesn't care what is in the flour as long as it has good baking qualities and can sell the final product to the consumer; and the consumer may or may not be guided by their taste: there may be other factors that they are considering, such as cost, or health benefits, or even lifestyle and culture.

Ultimately it boils down to this: the corporations who are fighting for control of our food supply are telling the consumer that what they are selling us most cheaply is best for us; and so our taste is being steered at every level into areas that may not be in our own best interest, but in the interest of those who seek to control what we eat so that they can improve not our health (or the planet's health) but their bottom line.

Take the example of transgenic wheat, which I've been doing a lot of thinking about.  Transgenic wheat is a reality.  The corporations who control the seed of our food have developed lots of different types of transgenic wheat, and they are ready and willing to put it into our food supply.  Farmers are willing and ready to try it, if it is easy to grow, and has other properties that farmers like (higher yield, less fertilizer, more disease or drought resistance, etc.).  Governments are ready to rubber stamp transgenic wheat because they have been lobbied to do so by the corporations that fund the research.  Scientists like transgenic wheat because they are able to show off how they can manipulate the genome of virtually anything.  Probably bakeries would like certain transgenic wheat if the gluten could stand up to baking procedures and some could be made that would help with the growing gluten sensitivities that are showing up, or if the new flour could be shown to be more nutritious and beneficial rather than dangerous.  If flavour alone were the king, then all a corporation would have to do is to make a transgenic wheat with more flavour than ever before, and the consumer would buy it.  The point is, the corporations who control the making of the seed are trying to appeal to every step along the chain of supply to make it more acceptable to us.  The resistance is not from anything other than the marketplace now: some customers are rejecting it on principle because the culture is so intertwined with bread made from wheat, and they are scared that the new wheat might somehow destroy them and their culture.  The corporations are currently trying to show that their wheat is safe to ingest: they are introducing it into the food supply of third world nations, and the poor and starving people of the world are going to be the guinea pigs that will convince the rest of us that our fears are unfounded.

So when a baker tells me "flavour rules", I say no.  In fact, tastes change.  Tastes can be manipulated like fashion.  What rules -- everywhere along the chain of interest -- is the bottom line.  As long as the ruling class can give us bread to fuel our bellies, we are going to be pacified.  Reinhart said it: "(Bread) is the product that everyone in the world eats, that is so difficult to give up."  We are narcotized into eating bread.  It is the exorphins in the grains that are king.  Bread is the opiate of the masses.  Whoever controls the bread controls everything.  This is all about total power and control of the world and its resources.

About this bread

This is the gooiest bread dough I've ever worked with.  It is really very sticky.  I ended up incorporating about an ounce more whole wheat flour while I was kneading it.  The goo was awful otherwise.  Like trying to knead the yellow part of a deviled egg.

I had no great interest in this bread.  Frankly I just wanted to get through it, to get on with the rest of the bread recipes in Reinhart's book.

The Soaker


The Biga



Day 2: Final Dough


I used this loaf as a practice of my braiding technique.  I'm still not much good at it, I'm afraid.  And I did have some question marks over my head when I turned the loaf over and braided the second half of the loaf.  Something there is still not right.









Today was a cold day in the house and things didn't rise very much.




The bread, in the oven, seemed to spread and sag rather than plump up.  And so most of my braiding is lost.  This is one ugly challah loaf.  But then, I'll never make this again, so who cares?

Crumb:



The crumb is surprisingly holey.

Notes to Myself

  • If you aren't going to pay attention, what is the point of baking? You are guaranteed not to learn anything. You'd be better off just not baking anything until you really want to bake a particular loaf. Otherwise, you will be disappointed in what you bake, so why bother baking? Don't bake a loaf just to "get through the book" whether you want to or not. That's just crazy. Don't do this again.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Peter Reinhart's Whole Wheat Challah




Peter Reinhart's Whole Wheat Challah (sort of)

I have never made a braided loaf of any kind before, and I didn't realize I was in trouble until I actually began to braid the dough.

This is supposed to be Peter Reinhart's Whole Wheat Challah from his book, Whole Grain Breads.  It doesn't look anything at all like the nice Challah that he made for the book's picture, of course.  This is what happens when someone totally inexperienced tries this recipe for the first time.

Ingredients:

Soaker ingredients

There is nothing much to say about the soaker.  It is just the three simple ingredients.


Biga ingredients

The biga felt really runny to me.  I neglected to measure the eggs (and it is a lot of eggs), but I probably wouldn't have tossed any away even if I had.  I did incorporate a fair amount of flour during the kneading stage, but I'm sure that it was still much too wet.  I persevered anyway.


Biga is extremely wet: I'd say, unkneadable

Kind of gloppy

The final dough seemed to come together okay, but as for passing the windowpane test, there was no way that this sloppy dough was going to do that.  Still, it had a gumminess to it that promised to hold together the dough.


Final Dough ingredients

Trying to incorporate more flour because it is just too wet

Resting periods for the dough are as important as the kneading

I waited an hour and a half for this dough to rise, and it was only supposed to take 45-60 minutes.  Again, I saw more sag than rise.  But it was substantially lighter in consistency: I think it just unfolded more than expanded.



dough after 90 minutes: the oil has slipped down the sides of the bowl and made a puddle


I discovered that I'm not much good at dividing dough evenly into 3 parts equal weight, by eye.





Reinhart instructs you to roll out the dough to 3", let it rest, and then roll it out to 10".  Well, my pieces started at 7", and I rolled them out to 17".   The strands in his book look to be longer than 10", though, so I felt somewhat justified.

But one of my strands was double the size of the other two, so I cut it in half.


One of these things is not like the other
The decision is made to shape a 4-braid Challah

"It'll be okay," I reasoned, "since Reinhart gives instructions for how to braid a 4-strand Challah too."

Well, there are pictures for the 3-strand, and the 6-strand challah, but there is only a one-line sentence for how to braid the 4-strand:

"4 over 2, 1 over 3, and 2 over 3," Reinhart tells us.

I had read over the instructions for the 3-strand, and that method seemed pretty simple.  The 6-strand method looked a bit more complicated, but I didn't have to worry about that, I thought.

But if you have 4 strands, you have to know the 6-strand method, since the 4-strand method is closer to that 6-strand method than it is to the 3-strand method.  I suppose one is supposed to easily get the idea of the 4-strand method just from looking at the other instructions. 

Well, to put it simply, I ran into trouble right away.




I labelled my strands, 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 in my head.  They were pinched together at the top, the farthest away from me.

I took 4 over 2, 1 over 3, and 2 over 3.  No problem.  Or so I thought.  I guess now, looking at my pictures, I did 1 over 2 (which is the new 3, but it shouldn't be renumbered until the whole series is complete), and that messed me up.

I take it (from re-reading the 6-strand method), you are supposed to renumber the strands 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 again only after the series is complete.

This is where I got hopelessly confused; I tried to do it renumbering "on the fly", I think.

Realizing this, I tried to back-track by lifting the last strand I placed back where it was before.  I thus discovered with horror mounting that these strands of dough -- whether they are 10" or 17" -- as soon as you start manipulating them, they are going to stretch and thin out, and they are so sticky they are going to immediately start melding to whatever other dough or counter surface that they touch.  The best way to do this, obviously, is to do it quickly and with confidence -- a sure, gentle hand.


hilarious
Willendorf Descends

If the ancient unknown artist who created the Venus of Willendorf collaborated with Marcel Duchamp, the artist who created 'Nude descending a Staircase', this braided bread would be what they'd come up with.  See the resemblance?

My Challah braid is art.

What I am trying to say is, all this means you should practice braiding.  And if you practice, you quickly notice that the outer strands cross over the inner strands, and then the inner strands are crossed, repeatedly until you are done.  This can and should be done fairly quickly, because it is an easy procedure.  In theory.

Well, I didn't practice, and the strands were a mess, and my hands were so sticky and the strands were elongating like Reed Richard's forearm, so I just quickly finished and set the whole blob on some parchment to sit, scrunchying it up in the move to the parchment.

The pictures of my "braid" are actually quite hilarious to me now.

And it was so wet that the whole thing just kind of sagged there on the parchment.  And there was no rise at this stage, just sag.  And my wife and I just sort of looked at the mess and knew it was nothing like it was supposed to be, but hey.  It was still going to be bread, more or less.


I painted the eggwash on and used sesame seeds: already sagging so the braids are invisible

I baked it 20 minutes, plus 20 minutes, plus another 25 minutes -- longer than Reinhart suggests by about 10 minutes, but I've had some bad results with our oven not acting hot enough, and I didn't want to take any chances.  I pounded the bottom of the loaf and it didn't sound quite done, hence the longer time.

There is no evidence of any braids left in this loaf.


Elephant man loaf

So I wouldn't call this, my attempt at Reinhart's recipe, a challah.

I probably won't ever make this again (unless it tastes exceptional, then I might trot it out at special occasions to use up some eggs).  Oh, but I see the next recipe in Reinhart's book is a transitional challah, so I have at least one more chance.  I do have to make a braided loaf at least one more time.

Then I can finally begin to try the hearth loaves, which I expect I will like a whole lot more than the recipes I've tried so far in Reinhart's book.




This bread actually does taste quite nice.  There is a lot of fat in it, of course, so it is bound to please, so long as it is properly baked.  And it turns out that this loaf is.  The crust is nice, the crumb is nice, the taste is nice.  I'm sure that it won't keep long, but then, it probably won't have to.  Even my wife looks interested in it.

Of course, she doesn't want to try any of my bread right now though, because today she baked herself about three dozen Berliner doughnuts (A German tradition in her household, when she was growing up, and something she has continued, as a "New Year Treat").  Those doughnuts are far too sugary for my taste, so she will have to eat all of them by herself. 

I will take a whole wheat bread over them any day of the week.  This bread allows me to say no to the Berliners.

Notes to Myself
  • Practice your braid before you start in on the dough.  No excuses.
  • Braid it directly on the parchment paper, you don't want to lift this later.
  • Don't wait the entire 2 hours before the Biga comes to room temperature to start this. Cooler dough will actually help during the braiding procedure, I bet.