Black & Tan Seeded Hearth Loaf

December 18, 2015December 18, 20151 Comment

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This loaf recipe is akin to one of my favorite drinks, a black and tan, which, with the use of sesame seeds, black sesame seeds, and poppyseed, isn’t a stretch. We could even say, black, tan, and grey all over; the black sesame seeds caused the loaf to take on a grey hue, at first, after adding the seed soaker to the dough.

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We loved this loaf, especially since Nick and I are head-over-heels for sesame. We’ll forever be trying to recreate the most tender and exquisite sesame baguette we had in Paris last summer; fresh from the bakery early one morning, and still warm, it was sheer heaven.

Baking these loaves was also another example of: sometimes, everything that can go wrong, will. It’s good to have flops once in a while, and that’s ok. Imperfect bread builds character.

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In my excitement to get the bread in the oven, I forgot two key things: one, to slash my loaves, and, two, to oil my loaf pan. Not slashing the bread isn’t the end of the world — it will simply rupture naturally at points, which doesn’t create a uniform look to the bread design. What I should have done was just let them go on baking and use it as a ‘note-to-self’ for the next batch, but I insisted that they must be slashed (!) being the stubborn person that I am. When we lifted the dutch oven off of the hearth loaf to slash it, the dough oozed a bit so we couldn’t get the lid back on properly. See that smashed bit at the edge of the loaf now? Yep, that’s the work of this lady.

Pancake hearth loaf; improper slashing

As for the loaf we baked in the loaf pan, man alive, it took days to soak and get that thing clean. Oiling your loaf pan = necessary. Other regrettable baking tales welcomed in the comments!

Pies for days…

November 4, 2015November 4, 2015Leave a comment

Have I mentioned yet that rather insane day-and-a-half I spent baking eight pies? Ah, yes. That happened. In preparation for Town Bakes being open for business, and being able to sell you pies (it’s really hard not to write in all capitals here because there is some genuine news in the making), for birthdays, parties, holidays, or any old reason that warrants pie (what the heck doesn’t warrant pie?), I practiced at a larger order as a one-woman operation, and boy, howdy, did I learn some things.

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It was a veritable storm of pie baking and production — a blur of shaping crust, peeling apples, making ganache and salty caramel sauce, toasting oats, cutting lattice strips, crimping and par-baking, and on and on it went for almost two days.

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The good news? Near the end of it all, at about 11 p.m. one night, I told Nick that I never wanted to bake again — that I was a baker no more — yet, what did I wake up and want to do the very next day? Bake three more pies, which, also happened. I’m taking that as a positive sign.

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Good lessons:

Rolling out dough while listening to music is a happy space. Assembly is my favorite part of making pie — shaping the crust, cutting and assembling lattice, scooping on crumble toppings; this is all very good. Looking at a gorgeous butter-laden pie, all golden and dressed up and ready for baking — then the smell of it baking, and the sight of fruit fillings bubbling — has got to be one of the best things on earth.

Not-so-happy lessons:

Refrigerator and freezer storage space is going to be a challenge. It’s lucky that we didn’t have much in the fridge that week, because I definitely needed most of that space for chilling dough and ingredients, and refrigerating cooked pies. Rental kitchens might be a necessary option as this venture gets rolling.

Also? My arms and hands were genuinely sore the next day. Baking strength is real, y’all.

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Many thanks to Nick’s family who requested an assortment of fall pies! This batch yielded two salty caramel apple, two old-fashioned apple with an oat crumble topping, two lemon chess (one sprinkled with lavender), and two black bottom oatmeal pies (picture pecan pie that substitutes oats for the pecans, also boasting a base layer of chocolate ganache).

A few more pics in the gallery below.

Pumpkin Cheesecake Gingersnap Tart

October 2, 2015October 1, 20151 Comment

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For your happiest of Fridays, several shots of a pumpkin cheesecake gingersnap tart from a few weeks back, inspired by Smitten Kitchen. With a gingersnap cookie crust and a pumpkin cheesecake filling, it’s a decadent dessert bursting with beloved notes of the fall season.

Who’s going to teach me how to marble for that beautiful swirled effect, instead of making cheesecake pangea?

Whole wheat (slightly sour) cinnamon-raisin bread

October 1, 20151 Comment

Bread, glorious bread! Doesn’t it make you want to sing and exalt and throw a gluten-full party as we delve further into bread baking experiments? Think about this: whole wheat-sourdough-cinnamon raisin bread with a decadent cream cheese topping. Or cinnamon raisin bread with cinnamon sugar sprinkled on top, or a smear of peanut butter.

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Who doesn’t love these things? A hallmark of childhood is the cinnamon-sugar toast my mom used to make for us when we were sick, and finally ready to eat real foods again. So this bread is nostalgic, it’s hearty, it’s dense, and offers hints of fall and winter, when we want everything to be cinnamon and nutmeg and warm apple pie or a mug of hot cider. Yes, yes, please.

I’m continuing Josey Baker Bread experiments and am having such FUN, which, I think was his intent (I dig it). Bread baking has always had an air of the scary — like there was too much science involved or epic room for error. But really, the only tools you need are patience and a willingness to be attentive to the dough; to notice the subtleties during each phase and think about what modifications you’d make next time.

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Young bread, ready for stretching and shaping

The patience part is good practice for me, since I’m the kind of person who discovers a recipe that looks amazing and has to bake it RIGHT NOW right now right now. And I usually can’t think of much else until I do.

Most of his recipes involve rounds of stretching and kneading across half-hour intervals, so it’s stretch-knead-wait a half-hour a total of four times before getting to the bulk-rise phase of the recipe.

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I still need practice in shaping my loaves. These two turned out especially dense, with the bread baked in the loaf pan not even filling the pan entirely. It’s a lesson to me to spend more time stretching during the shaping phase, for a more evenly sized loaf.

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Mr. Baker calls for Thompson raisins, though I used a mix of flame and Thompson, sea salt, cinnamon, and whole wheat flour. His recipe calls for a very small amount of sourdough starter, and I added approx. a teaspoon more than recommended since I wanted this to be a noticeably sour loaf.

Next up in gluten tales, diving into an everything loaf coated with poppyseed and sesame.

Buttermilk Blueberry Chess Pie

August 27, 2015August 27, 20152 Comments

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I’ve been telling one Mr. Loomis that it is already fall around these parts (it’s true), but he doesn’t like to hear that. It’s undeniable, however, the change in the air and the light. California is beyond crispy because of our enduring drought, so the leaves are not a good indicator at the moment of the subtle change in season. But there’s something that rolls around this time of year, so that I know in my heart summer is over and soon we’ll be pulling out an extra blanket for the bed or thinking of nothing else but apple pie.

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As some consolation, we dedicated last weekend to a final burst of summer activities, with a hike in the hills, grilling dinner on our tiny weber in the driveway, and baking a blueberry chess pie. This pie is also an indicator of the cusp of summer/fall times. Stone fruit has already turned well beyond its peak-of-season flavor, so I’m looking ahead to fall and winter fillings — chess pies with custard and buttermilk, fillings of apple or pear, pies of lemon and chocolate and pumpkin and walnut and oat, oh my. These are all worthy of excitement.

Given that I’m still getting the hang of timing re: custard fillings, this pie was almost perfect. And per my sentiments of past posts, we also know that perfection is overrated. I pulled this pie from the oven probably a few minutes too soon — or didn’t let it cool quite long enough (Hey, it’s hard to keep mitts off a freshly-baked pie), so the first few slices we enjoyed were not completely set. After a night in the refrigerator, however, the pie had set entirely by the next day.

Chess pies definitely require closer monitoring while they bake. Given the advice I’ve read in books by Four and Twenty Blackbirds and the Hoosier Mama Pie Company, bakers I respect immensely, you’re looking for the outer two inches of the filling to be puffed and set as an indicator of doneness, while the inner circle of the pie will still be wobbly when you remove it from the oven. The difference being that the center should be moving as a whole rather than a sea of liquid. Taking the pie out before it’s overcooked helps to avoid the filling splitting as it cools, and even in its wobbly state, the pie will continue to cook and set as it cools.

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An issue of practice being the best guide, I expect I’ll be able to better gauge the exact moment to pull the pie from the oven over time. And about the name? There are so many theories about why chess pie is called so, that’s a bit like: choose-your-own-adventure. The most common explanation, however, suggests that the term chess pie originated from “chest pie,” because these custard pies are made with so much sugar that they could be stored in a pie chest rather than in a refrigerator.

And the defining element of the filling? About a tablespoon of cornmeal which lends a pleasant bite and grittiness that I love.

In the meantime, I’ve pulled the sourdough starter from the fridge with a gleam in my eye for cinnamon-raisin bread, up next. Happy end-of-summer celebrations, gang. And some cute cats below, just because.

The Dog Days of Summer and a Peach Pie

August 3, 2015August 2, 20151 Comment

I just finished re-reading To Kill a Mockingbird in anticipation of reading Go Set A Watchman, Harper Lee’s new novel, which is ready and waiting on the coffee table. There’s huge controversy surrounding her latest book; some saying her lawyer pushed to have it published without her consent, and others saying it dampens the love or esteem for a much-cherished novel by lending a radically different perspective to the characters of the Finch family, as we encounter them 20 years later. I’m always in favor of actual human portraits, flaws and all, but we’ll see. I haven’t read it yet.

Crushing pink peppercorns for the filling

Regardless, Mockingbird is a hell-of-a-book, and a timely read given the headlines and news stories plaguing our country of late. Scout’s earnestness and honesty, the actions and thoughts of a young person who hasn’t yet been molded by the prejudices surrounding her, is a joy.

And after spending a week in the homes and settings of the fictitious Maycomb, Alabama, I’ve had nothing but lane cake, divinity, and peach pie on my mind.

Scoring the lattice to create a textured effect

This luscious summer pie with a lattice medallion is laced with brown sugar, almond extract, pink peppercorn, and lemon. When I pulled it out of the oven, it was positively blushing at me. I haven’t made a purely-peach pie since last summer, and I’d forgotten how perfect the texture of peaches are in a pie. Plump and silky, every bite as fragrant as a garden.

Most of the recipes I’ve read for peach pie call for blanching the fruit and peeling the peaches; I never do this, and find the results just as successful and the peach skin: not noticeable. I’d be happy for any additional thoughts in this arena; to peel or not to peel?

Mixed-Berry Sunken Lattice Pie

July 28, 2015July 28, 20151 Comment

This pie was part of our Fourth of July haul. Instagram taunted me for weeks with all of the food bloggers and bakers getting a head-start, letting the world know what they’d be whipping up for the Fourth of July. It’s easy to get overwhelmed when you’re me and want to bake and cook and grill every single thing that looks yummy. No-campfire s’mores? Sure! An apricot gallete? Sure! Corn and souvlaki on the grill? You bet! If only that whole “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” notion actually worked.

With friends hosting a barbecue and covering the grilling portion of the evening, we settled on some baked goods to supplement. Nick baked another round of pretzels — the real deal, dipped in lye. He gets a better result each time and these were perfectly crisp and golden and salty, just as they should be.

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I made a mixed berry pie — strawberry, blueberry, and a bit of nectarine — with a lattice top. My baking feathers puffed with pride that there was only one little lonely slice of pie left when we were leaving the barbecue that night.

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It was difficult to keep our hands off of this one.

Next on my list is a traditional peach pie, because summer is already rolling towards fall and it wouldn’t be the season without at least one lovely peach pie — all of those golden wedges slumping into buttery perfection.

Oh, and those no-campfire s’mores? We absolutely made them. See the recipe for inspiration.

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Hello, little hearth loaf

July 17, 20151 Comment

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Happy Friday! The foray into Josey Baker’s bread recipes continues. This is the sourdough hearth recipe in his book, made with my own sourdough starter I’ve been tending for weeks. Clearly, my slashing technique needs some practice. The results, however, are pretty airy, tender, and awesome.

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Looking at the cross-section, I’m wondering if that’s almost what they call a false roof? Any comments/tips are appreciated!

Pizza of the Week

July 9, 2015July 8, 2015Leave a comment

When Monday needed a pick-me-up…

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We’re still making our way through the red wine and garlic sausage in our freezer — formed into links with our very own hands — after taking the Sausage Making 101 class last summer at Avedano’s Meats in San Francisco.

Dressed up and bound for the oven

We paired the sausage with ricotta cheese, crimini mushrooms, sautéed sweet peppers and kale and spooned an herb dressing on top made with olive oil, chives, parsley, lemon zest, and crushed red pepper. Darn it was tasty, especially with a side of roasted carrots dressed with lemon.

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We keep attempting to recreate some of the dishes we had in Italy — like the cannelini beans in rosemary broth and lemony roasted carrots. So far, our concoctions are nowhere in the ball park of those Italian dishes, but we’ll keep trying.

When Nick makes pizza dough, it’s always enough so that we have several rounds in the freezer at once, which makes it super easy to defrost one and assemble a spur-of-the-moment, top-with-your-heart’s-delight, pizza any given night.

Bread-baking and a small batch of strawberry preserves

July 7, 2015July 8, 20152 Comments

The fact is that I’ve only baked one loaf of bread on my own. I’ve been the observer, the helper, the sometimes-bowl-washer, the happy-to-gobble-it-up, yes-please, to Nick’s countless hearth loaves and artisan breads that have come out of our kitchen. I am the majority pie-baker in our household, but I thought it was time to finally branch out into some bread-baking myself, and to start with the basics.

Josey Baker is a ridiculously charismatic baker who lives locally and operates The Mill across the bay in San Francisco. He doesn’t come from a formal culinary background; he fell in love with bread and dove whole-heartedly into production, selling his loaves out of his home, pedaling them around town, and carving out a space at Mission Pie before starting his own bakery. His book is filled with advice perfect for the beginning baker, and the progression of recipes makes it easy to start slowly diving into the nuances and details of baking bread at home. He has provided the inspiration for many, many batches of chocolate chip cookies and delicious bread in our home. Thanks, Josey.

This loaf is his first recipe in the book: a basic country loaf or a sandwich loaf, baked in a loaf pan. There’s only a little mixing and absolutely no kneading involved, and most of the work is patiently waiting for the dough to rise.

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And what better to go with a loaf of freshly baked bread? You bet, homemade preserves. We’ve had a lot of strawberries hanging around — I anxiously bought a huge batch in anticipation of fourth of July baking, and realized half-way through last week that they wouldn’t in fact last until the weekend.

Syrupy fruit simmering — about to become jam!

I was turned on to canning and preserving at home when my friend Erin started making her own preserves. She brought me the best batch of strawberry jam that I had ever tasted, because the flavor of the fruit wasn’t masked by too much sugar — it was inherently strawberry, and super fresh, and I consumed that jam at a record speed.

And last year Nick and I took two canning classes hosted by 18 Reasons in San Francisco. We learned how to get started — the basics of sanitizing jars, prepping fruit and bringing it to a rolling boil, and filling and sealing jars — and left with batches of delicious syrup, shrub, and jam and preserves. From apricot jam, to a ginger-meyer-lemon marmalade, to cherry preserves, it was an inspiring way to get started with our own canning habit.

For this round, we hulled strawberries, crushed pink peppercorn and lavender, and made a small batch of strawberry-lavender jam with a hint of pink peppercorn. It smelled luscious simmering on the stove and perfumed the entire house. We used a two-to-one ratio of fruit-to-sugar, and I wouldn’t want it any sweeter.