Choreki - the final post

For the final installment of the Bread Blog, a festive loaf from Greece that combines a bunch of my favorite attributes – a (1) rich, (2) eggy (3) braided (4) white bread (5) from a new country, and (6) flavored with fennel.

Proof 2 3/4 of a teaspoon of yeast in 1/4 of a cup of warm water. While waiting for that, combine 1/3 of a cup of water, 1/6 of a cup of powdered milk, 1/8 of a cup of sugar, 4 tablespoons of butter, 1 teaspoon of salt, and 1/2 a teaspoon of ground fennel seeds in a small saucepan, and heat through. Once the butter has melted, beat in 2 eggs. Pour this and the yeast into this into a bowl, and add 3 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour, half a cup at a time. Kneading this dough is rather a walk in the park: the dough is soft, easy to handle, and just the right amount to be able to alternate between kneading with one and two hands. Anyway, after about 8 minutes the dough should be nice, supple, and elastic. Put in a greased bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and set aside for the

First Rising (1 hour and 15 minutes)

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Every Thursday during the semester the physics department has a weekly colloquium, bringing in a physicist from another university to talk about his (or very occasionally her) research. Anyway, this past week might have been one of my favorites in a long time. The physicist in question had a serious high-energy theoretical physics background (publishing on an astrophysical problem the summer after college, and then studying under Gell-Mann), but then apparently drifted towards his real interests. So, he's mostly studied assorted problems in planetary science and geology...and in the colloquium we got to hear about a giant, dinosaur-killing space rock.

Which turns out to be pretty interesting, as it turns out, and there's been a lot more detailed theory and simulation done on the problem than I had thought. Random amazing trivia: bits of the rock bed from the area where the asteroid hit (the Yucatan Peninsula) have been found as far away as Colorado, which turns out to be unimpressive when you then realize that some of the ejected matter from the impact site would have had a velocity great enough to escape the Earth's gravitational field altogether.

But, I think my favorite moment came a little bit later.As I mentioned just above there was some stuff that got blown out into space, but that means there was also a lot of matter that got shot into orbit and then fell back down (covering the entire globe, as it turns out), and all of that stuff falling back through the atmosphere generated a tremendous amount of heat. And, of course, the speaker had studied this problem, and worked out that the falling material would have generated, through friction (and ram pressure? He didn't mention, but I have to assume at least partly) about 10 kW per square meter for maybe 20 minutes to an hour. For reference, that's comparable (if a bit less than) the energy output of a high-temperature pizza oven...over the entire surface of the Earth! Anyway, the speaker was explaining that this is probably what (very quickly) killed most of the dinosaurs (and pretty much anything that couldn't live underwater or burrow into a hole in the ground), and he made the point by mentioning, in passing, that "...we have some data on how much thermal radiation an elephant can withstand, and it's not 10 kW for an hour!" Which, of course, immediately raises some questions...why would anyone have data on the thermal radiative tolerance of elephants? And how did they come by that data?

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Punch the dough down, divide it into three equal pieces, and let it rest for a few minutes. Then, slowly roll each piece into a tube of dough, maybe 3/4 of an inch thick and 15 inches long. Braid the strands together, pinching the ends and tucking them underneath the braid, and put on a greased cookie sheet for the

Second rising (50 minutes)

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So, yes, I think with this post I'm bringing the Bread Blog to a close. I know I had told some of you that I would wait until I finished 50 posts, but I wanted to end on a good bread, I'd say this loaf definitely qualifies, and so this seemed like as good a time as any. And, to be honest, 48 posts is still 47 more than I ever intended to write when I started this thing anyway. I want to thank you all for reading this, leaving comments, sending me emails, and generally staying in touch through the blog; it's largely for you guys that I've kept up with the weekly writing. But anyway, I've resolved to be newly better about promptly answering email and letters, so no worries about that.

Oh, and also, feel free to keep sending me recipes...I might not be posting, but I'll still be baking. This next month or so I'll be especially be looking forward to remaking some of my favorites - and just simple white breads - one of the the problems with my rule of not posting the same recipe twice!

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Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. While the oven is warming up, beat together 1 egg and 1 tablespoon of water. Put that in the fridge, and chop up 1 tablespoon of almonds. Just before putting the bread in the oven, brush the egg glaze onto the dough, and sprinkle the almonds onto the dough, along with 1 tablespoon of sesame seeds and 1 generous teaspoon of sugar. Bake for 45 minutes.

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Tasting Verdict: A nice bread to end on, as I mentioned above. The crust is fantastically crispy, and those bites where you get both the fennel and the almond flavors at the same time are really quite tasty...I'm going to have to think of a dinner dish where I can use both of those, I think. Anyway, as you'd expect, the bread itself is nicely textured, with a deliciously unhealthy richness to it.

Best and worst breads of the blog

First, five of my favorites, in no particular order:

Anadama - One of my earlier attempts, but still good. Not as over-the-top as some of the following; just a classic sandwich loaf.

Swedish Limpa - One of the more complex breads I've made, but I still remember how tasty I thought it was (quite the lasting impression, I guess, seeing as that was almost 11 months ago)

Cinnamon Bread - Much too rich and flavorful to be used for regular lunches (although I recall it making some fairly decadent peanut-butter-and-honey sandwiches), but just an excellent, excellent breakfast loaf.

Challah - I mean, I had to include at least one eggy bread in this list, right? I mean, it's probably been the single category of bread I've baked the most over the last year. Still, this one was particularly good, and I'm still semi-amazed that the six-stranded braid thing worked.

Pusstabrot - Best. Deli. Sandwiches. Ever.

And, the less than stellar efforts, in descending order:

Cardamom Bread - Not horrible, but "unbalanced" is really the only way to describe the flavor of the bread. Eating it you have a vague, lingering feeling that something is wrong.

Raisin and Nut Bread - Gross, sticky kneading, followed by raisins that migrate to the surface of the baking bread on their path towards becoming charred ash containers

Brown Bread - Eating this loaf reminds you with every chew that you're eating something healthy. I mean, if the idea of the taste of health food had a Platonic form, it would be similar to this loaf of bread, I have no doubt.

Black Bread - While I later redeemed myself, this was the catastrophic "brick of bread," so dense that my bread knife would barely cut it. Although, to be fair, that was probably more my fault than the recipe's.

Bavarian Rye - To misquote Nietzsche, "Ah ryes. They make the highs higher, and the lows...more frequent." Anyway, this bread, fresh out of the oven, was actually not too terrible. Just a day later, though, it turned into a truly foul-tasting abomination, with the texture of a damp, mushy sponge.

Russian Black Bread

Some of you may remember my earlier (disastrous) attempt to make a black bread, but I think it's been long enough for me to give it another go. So, armed with a new recipe, eight more months of bread-baking experience, and a desire to sit around the apartment and delay going in to work for a long as possible today it's time to try a substantially more complicated than average loaf. Fingers crossed.

To start things off, combine 3/4 of a cup of water, 2 tablespoons of butter, 1/4 of a cup of blackstrap molasses, and 1 ounce of unsweetened chocolate in a sauce pan, and start heating it. While waiting for the chocolate to melt, start proofing 3 teaspoons of yeast in 1/2 of a cup of warm water. Separately, in a large mixing bowl prepare a mixture of 1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour, 2 teaspoons of sugar, 2 teaspoons of salt, 2 teaspoons of instant coffee mix, 1 teaspoon of onion powder, and 1 teaspoon of crushed fennel seeds.

Once the chocolate is melted and evenly mixed in allow it to cool for a minute, then pour it and the yeast into the mixing bowl, and stir in 2 cups of dark rye flour along with another half-cup of all-purpose flour. Knead for a generous handful of minutes, and try not to breathe through your nose - this one, ominously, already has something of a pungent smell to it... Anyway,put in a greased bowl, cover, and allow to sit for the

First rising (2 hours )
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First week of the semester down, and I have to admit it was something of a rocky start. I'm taking just two classes this semester: one ("Polymer Physics") being taught by my advisor, and the other ("Biophysics") fulfilling the very last of my coursework requirements. Anyway, I think the semester will be substantially easier than my last one, which will of course be very nice, but I somehow still managed to have to spend almost all of this weekend working. And having to spend the full weekend working before there's even been any homework assigned for classes...well that just feels like I must have mismanaged my research time during the week. Not too swift of me.
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Punch the dough down and put in a greased 9x5 bread tin. Recover, set on top of a radiator, and wait during the

Second rising (1 hour and 30 minutes)
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A few days ago, after finishing up some work late at night, I wandered over to a coffee shop and just sat thinking for a while. Which I suddenly realized has been something I do a lot less than I used to. Well, not that I ever was that big a fan of just sitting around, but I always used to take medium-long walks, most days anyway. But here in Illinois I haven't really gotten into the habit of taking walks. I suspect that's because I walk back and forth to work every day (probably averaging 4 miles or so just in doing that), so I'm spending at least as much time physically walking as I ever used to. But of course, you're not really taking a walk if you've got a destination in mind, so you don't really get in the same mindset where you can (figuratively) sit and mull things over.

So, anyway, along with being better about cooking I'm going to have to find some spot where I can just sit, or read the paper in the morning, or something along those lines. Hmm...too bad my two favorite coffee shops closed last semester!
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Bake at 375 for 45 minutes.

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Tasting verdict: Very interesting, actually! I still haven't really made up my mind as to whether I especially like this bread or not, but the flavor is pretty unlike any loaf I've made so far: a strong hit of fennel when you first bite into it, followed by a progression through the darker rye, molasses, and faintly chocolate-y flavors as you keep chewing. As I said, interesting, and maybe a little bizarre. Anyway, good texture - a bit lighter than I had expected - and with a surprisingly crisp crust.

Pusstabrot

Always exciting to add another country to the "Where the Bread I've Baked Comes From" list, and it's Hungary this time! So, this bread gets going in a slightly unusual way (or at least, compared with most of the breads I make): start by roasting 1/2 of a heaping teaspoon of fennel seeds over medium heat in a small saucepan, and then try to use a large soup spoon to grind the seeds (a mortar and pestle might, admittedly, be more convenient here). In a large bowl, combine the fennel with 3 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour, 2 tablespoons of sugar and two teaspoons of salt. Create a little well in the middle of the flour mixture, and pour in 4 1/2 teaspoons of yeast proofed in 1 1/2 cups of warm water, along with 2 tablespoons of canola oil. Gently stir in some of the surrounding flour to create a very thin batter, leaving most of the flour dry. Let this sit, loosely covered, for an hour, when the batter will have bubbled up out of the well. At this point, stir everything together, add another half-cup of flour, and get to knead what will turn out to be a very stiff, resistant dough. Put in a greased bowl, cover, and set aside on the radiator for the

First rising (1 hour and 20 minutes)
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Another trip home, another 8 airports (well, counting three of them twice, that is)... While I generally quite like air travel, this time I was generally less thrilled than usual, and all of the airports started blending together in my mind into one semi-continuous set of glass-steel-cement buildings, this one with a blue-glass-falling-leaf-mobile, that one with a giant wooden sphere, but otherwise not terribly distinguishable from one another. In part, I suspect that feeling is just the result of combining extra airports on this trip with having flown so much over Thanksgiving.

But, of course, that's not to say I didn't have my usual share of fun meetings, this time ranging from a Midwestern psychotherapist to a New England chemical engineer to a teacher at a New York Yeshiva. So, I ask, what is it about airplanes, I wonder? I mean, I consider myself a quite friendly but not terribly talkative person most of the time, yet somehow when traveling by myself I occasionally turn into a regular chatterbox. My current working theory is the novelty of having a completely contained, few-hour, start-to-finish relationship with someone...but I'm not entirely satisfied with that. Any suggestions?

Oh, I should add, one final highlight of my recent travel experience includes finally escaping the Bermuda Triangle of Air Travel that I call the metropolitan Detroit airport with only a tiny, insignificant in comparison, delay of an hour or two on the runway. Hurray!
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Punch the dough down and knead for another minute or so. Shape into a ball, put on a greased cookie sheet, cover, and again put on a nearby radiator for the

Second rising (45 minutes )
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Fake New Year's Resolution...the "fake" one, of course, because I think of New Year's resolutions in much the same way that I think of birthday wishes: namely, if you tell anyone else it just won't happen. So, for the fake resolution, I'm going to try to get back to some (slightly) more adventuresome cooking. When I first moved out here I was, for me, very good about this, trying out a new recipe maybe once a week or so. Since the end of last summer, though, I might have attempted all of one or maybe two new dishes. So, for the sake of saving my taste buds from further boredom, I'll try to resurrect the new-dish-a-week system. And if you (dear reader) would like to help out, I'd be thrilled if you emailed or posted a link to a favorite recipe I could try out. I have just a few vague rules...
1. Not too too much prep time (this one's a bit more flexible, but still...if it takes more than an hour and a half to prepare it won't exactly be easy to fit into the weekday rotation. Still, if it's super-tasty I'll give it a try on some weekend or other)
2. Preferably not super-spicy
3. Preferably super-delicious
4. No tofurkey (.pdf :-))
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15 minutes before the end of the rising, fill the oven's broiler pan with water and start preheating the oven to 350 degrees. Just before putting the bread in the oven, cut a half-inch-deep cross into the top, brush with a mixture of an egg white mixed with a tablespoon of water and a pinch of salt, and sprinkle with a fennel seeds.Bake for 50 minutes.

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Tasting verdict: Admittedly, not the most aesthetically pleasing loaf... I'm not really sure why half of the bread decided to explode out like that! Still, I can live with that because this loaf is just straight up delicious. The crust is nicely crispy but not tough, and the fennel flavoring is terrific...I'm not sure why I haven't made a fennel-spiced bread before, but now that I have, well....I want to eat rastons.

Verterkake

Quite randomly, yet another Scandinavian loaf this week…

Start off by proofing 2 3/4 teaspoons of yeast in 2/3 of a cup of warm milk. After a few minutes, stir this into 1 cup of dark rye flour. In a separate bowl, combine 7/8 of a cup of Guinness (standing in for verterol, the apparently non-alcoholic dark Norwegian beer that I’d never heard of but that gives this bread its name), 2 teaspoons of salt, 1/4 of a cup of sugar, 3/4 of a teaspoon of black pepper, and 3/4 of a teaspoon of mace. Let both sit for about 20 minutes (until the yeast/flour mixture looks like it’s starting to rise).

Then, pour the Guinness mixture into the yeast mixture, and also add 1/3 of a cup of light corn syrup. Stir in another cup of rye flour followed by 2 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour, and get to kneading. Now, I’ll be honest: normally I quite like the challenge of doughs that are difficult to knead, but this week I was feeling pretty lazy. So I was rather delighted to find this an extremely pliant, workable dough to handle (and one that, thanks to the Guinness that hadn't quite come up to room temperature, was pleasantly cool as well). Anyway, knead a little bit less flour than usual into this one; we’ll want it to remain a little moist and sticky. After kneading put in a greased bowl, cover, and set aside for the

First rising (1 hour and 45 minutes)
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Exciting election, no? I have to admit, I can't believe that it's been less than a week...it somehow feels like ages ago. Anyway, I went to vote early in the morning before heading in for work, and was almost disappointed that I didn't have to wait in line at all (not that Illinois was even remotely close enough for there to be extra voter enthusiasm, I suppose). Also, as much fun as it was to get to vote in person, I rather wish I hadn't had to change my registration away from Maine, though...it's hard to get too worked up about, say, who the next county coroner is going to be when you've never heard of any of the people running.

Also, more selfishly, now that the election is over, I think I just lost 90% of the sites I would visit to waste time on the Internet. I mean, I guess for the next little bit there's still this and that, but then what?
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Punch the dough down, and then shape into a ball. Flatten slightly and put on a greased cookie sheet, then cover and set aside for the

Second rising (1 hour and 15 minutes)
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So, this weekend I went to another concert at the Krannert: a performance of the Brandenburg concertos.

The good: Well, I'm pretty sure just about everybody reading this blog already knows how much I like Bach...at his worst I think he's rather mechanical but still good to listen to, but at his best he's transcendent, in a Clockwork Universe sort of way. And while the Brandenburg concertos aren't my favorite Bach pieces, they're pretty high up on the list. Also, I continue to be floored by the acoustics in the Krannert Center's main performance space. Notes just ring out so well...even though I had less-than-ideal seats (below and to the back of the solo violin), so that some instruments sounded much softer than they should have, the clarity was astounding. Which would have been particularly awesome in the second concerto if not for

The bad: I'm afraid the piccolo trumpet player wasn't really up to the part in that second concerto (no real intended slight there...I mean, the piece was specifically written for a true virtuoso of the time and is (apparently) considered to be one of the hardest trumpet parts written). Or else he was just having an off night. Which is too bad; he played most of the piece magnificently, but missed and squeaked on enough notes that I spend most of the first and third movements thinking more about whether he was about to miss a note than about the notes he was actually playing. So that was a bit distracting...but not nearly as distracting as the middle-aged German couple, sitting immediately behind me, who felt the need to comment on every little aspect of the performance. And while I appreciated the opportunity to check just how much of German 101 I did and did not remember, I think the concert might have been more enjoyable without the constant chatter.
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Brush the dough with warm water, and use an especially sharp knife to cut a cross into the top of the dough. Bake at 375 degrees for 45 minutes.

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Tasting Verdict: Delicious (if, as in the above photo, not quite as symmetrical as I might like!) Fresh out of the oven this was one of the better breads I've made in a little while (the smell was strikingly similar to that of rice pudding, actually), and for lunch today was still quite good spread with just a bit of butter. Other than with butter, or perhaps some jam, though, I can't really imagine this would go well with too many other things lunch-wise. We'll see how it holds up over the rest of the week.

Lavash

Well, after making a quintessentially New England loaf last week, I thought it only fitting to go with something a bit more international this time. So, this week it's lavash (also spelled lavosh, lahvosh, and so on), as another request from Masha. As an aside, other than it's variety of spellings, lavash also apparently has a variety of meanings...trying to look it up online quickly reveals that it is both "a leavened flatbread of Armenian origin" and "an unleavened Armenian flatbread." Go figure. Anyway, I've gone with a leavened version; hopefully it'll be slightly more lunch-appropriate.

This is a fairly easy (and quick) bread to make: start off by proofing 2 1/2 teaspoons of yeast in just less than 1 cup of warm water mixed with 3/4 of a tablespoon of sugar. After a few minutes, mix together with 1 teaspoon of salt, 1 cup of all-purpose flour, and 1 3/4 cups of bread flour. (If you guessed that that ratio of flour was dictated less by my recipe and more by the contents of my cupboard, you'd be correct!)

Anyway, knead for an extra-long amount of time (I wasn't really paying attention, but longer than usual, despite how easy the dough is to work with), and then put in an oiled bowl, cover, and let stand for the

First rising (1 hour and 35 minutes)
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Earlier this week I had the distinct pleasure of having one of the most surreal experiences of my time so far here in the Midwest. One of my co-workers needed help running an errand for the local bike co-op and, as it turned out, needed help getting a tandem bike (with a small trailer to haul some stuff...hence the errand) there and back. Well, I had never ridden a tandem bike before, but why not, right?

Well, it turned out this was no normal tandem bike, but rather a special one that featured the person steering facing in the usual, forward-looking direction, but had the second person (a.k.a. "me" in this case) looking backwards. (And, as it turns out, having to pedal backwards as well.) This, while mildly headache-inducing during turns, was also incredibly amusing. Pedaling on the street, waving, and getting utterly bemused looks from drivers directly behind the bike was quite the experience. To be fair, the bike is a pretty bizarre sight, so I can't blame folks for getting a chuckle out of it (and, again to be fair, I'm sure my having to take a phone call while merrily pedaling backwards looked doubly peculiar). Oh, I also got quite a kick out of the small mirror attached to the bike helmet I was borrowing, allowing me to see forwards if I were to so choose.

But, I think my favorite moments, more than just looking backwards at traffic, were while we were biking on the bike paths around campus, and so were passing students walking on the sidewalks. There was something interesting in getting to see the bewildered expressions and double takes of students as we passed by, followed by the immediate checking of those expressions as they realized that I, looking and pedaling backwards as I was, could see them.

Then, of course, there was the delicious coda to the whole thing...appearing in the form of a fantastic "thank-you" pecan pie a few days later...A trade I'm pretty sure I would make any day of the week!
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Punch the dough down, and then knead for another 5 minutes or so. Divide the dough into six roughly equal portions, roll into little balls, cover, and let rise.

Second rising (30 minutes)
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So, happy as I was about the whole tandem bike thing, there were a pair of things I was mildly disheartened by this week. First, Moonstruck, my third-favorite coffee shop suddenly and mysteriously closed, with no warning whatsoever. Now, I'm not at all sure that it was actually my third-favorite coffee-shop...I don't really have a set ranking...but I certainly did like it. And, with its combination of late hours, good study or relaxing atmosphere, and excellent desserts, it's certainly the one I visited the most. So, I was sad to see it go.

Second, today I was shredding some cheese (cheddar from Ilchester, if you were wondering) to go with the taco salad I was making for dinner, when I happened to notice on the package the following advisory: "WARNING: Contains milk!" Well, of course, I was rather amused at the exclamation mark, but otherwise sad that a block of cheese had to have a warning that it contained milk. I mean...really? That's just one or two steps removed from a jug of milk labeled "WARNING: Milk contains milk!"
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Set the oven to 400 degrees. While it's heating up, roll out each ball into a very flat um...shape. Aim for either a rectangle or circle, but for aesthetic reasons I'd recommend not being as indecisive as I apparently was while making these. In any event, brush the tops of each portion with cold water, and then sprinkle with sesame seeds. Bake for 20 minutes.

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Tasting verdict: Nice! Really, the bread tastes pretty much like the recipe seems like it would. But the texture is excellent: the bread is just thick enough to avoid being a crispy cracker, but thin enough to be more distinctive than just any other slice of bread. I'm a little sceptical about whether the pieces would keep for very long, but somehow...somehow I'm not sure that'll be an issue.

Kelsey's Rustic Italian Bread...ish

Well, a doubly exciting bread blogging week this time around! Earlier in the week I was sent, through the mail, a modest quantity of stone-milled (red spring and white spring) wheat flour - and from northern Maine, no less! So, I've been trying to think of a good recipe to use that flour for, when I realized I'd been holding onto this "Rustic Italian Bread" recipe for a few weeks now. Well, "rustic..." that sounds like something you should use stone-milled flour for, no? Unfortunately, the recipe called for lots of things I didn't have (baking stones, parchment paper, etc.), so I had to modify the recipe a fair amount. But still, it was the inspiration behind this week's loaf.

So, to start out, combine 1 1/2 teaspoons of yeast, 1 1/3 cups of room temperature water, 1 cup of bread flour, and 2 1/2 cups of red spring wheat flour. Stir until it forms a shaggy sort of dough, and then let rest for 20 minutes. After which, pour in about 1 cup of starter (you have been feeding the dragon, right?), 1 tablespoon of oil, and 2 teaspoons of salt. Stir and then knead in (and this will be a tough one to work, so watch out) another 3 full cups of the red spring wheat flour. When the dough has reached a slightly stickier-than-normal but still fairly elastic consistency, put it in a greased bowl, cover, and let stand for the


First rising (2 hours and 30 minutes)
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I've recently added new source of random variety in my life, thanks to a friend who has kindly let me borrow a television for the summer. Even though I don't particularly watch much TV, this was a rather welcome addition to my apartment, which already had a TV stand and a combination DVD/VCR player (the former made for a fine bookshelf, but the latter was especially awkward to have without a TV to plug it into). Anyway, the TV can't pick up any channels, but I enjoy watching movies every now and then, and fortunately my local library (all of three blocks away from my apartment) has a decent selection of DVDs that I can check out. Unfortunately, I hate picking out movies, and I very quickly made it through my list of movies that I had heard of, I wanted to see, and the library had. So, how to choose the videos for when the urge to watch struck?

Well, here was my brilliant solution. You see, the DVD section is very heavily used, so there is always a cart of DVDs near the stacks that have been checked back in but that the staff haven't had a chance to reshelve. So, I simply walk up to the cart and, without looking (or, avoiding looking as much as I can), pick up a random block of three consecutive DVDs (on the theory that in the span of a few days I might want to see two movies, and that roughly a third of the library's collection to so scratched as to be unwatchable). You might think that this strategy horribly skews what I check out towards a very "popular movie/summer blockbuster" sort of spectrum, but so far the results have been quite surprising and much more nuanced than that. For instance, it appears that the citizens of central Illinois check out much (a) more 80's sci-fi than I would have guessed, (b) many fewer comedies (especially relative to the amount of shelf space dedicated to them) than expected, and (c) a grossly disproportionate number of travelogues about Montana. Although admittedly, all this might just be the result of having such a small sample size (the last, especially!). But anyway, so far this little experiment has been an amusing success.
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Punch the dough down, and divide it in two. Shape into loaves and put in greased 9x5 and 8x4 bread pans. (The original recipe called for it to be baked free-form, but I rather wanted some sandwich bread after such a long break from standard-shaped loaves.) Cover and let rise again.


Second rising (1 hour and 20 minutes)
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As some of you may know, I have a mildly Taoist-influenced theory of the mutual rooting and mutual transformation between klutziness and grace (not totally an accurate choice of word, but at the moment I can't think of a better opposite of clumsiness). Namely, the idea that, like so many dualities, as one progressively grows ever more klutzy the seeds of grace start to creep in. Now, clearly this isn't the actual case, but it's what I tell myself. Because I find that, ever more frequently, I'm always tripping and stumbling my way across uneven ground or up stairs or (most embarrassingly) even on perfectly flat surfaces. However, I've got reasonably good reflexes and thanks, to my pair of left feet always tripping me up, plenty of practice with catching myself, and so despite tripping all the time, I manage to fall down only very rarely. Hence the theory that I've gotten so clumsy it's beginning to be a graceful sort of clumsiness.

So it was, I think, that I thus managed this week to fall off of my bike not once but twice, yet still walk away with just a skinned knee, a small bruise on my left thumb, and a slightly larger bruise to my pride. In my defense, the first crash could have happened to anyone, clumsy or not; the chain slipped off the gears while I was just coasting (not quite sure how that happened, though), and so I was caught by surprise by the fact that I could no longer pedal. And also by the curb that, even though I was applying the brakes, still managed to stop me fast enough to send me tumbling over the handlebars. The second time was a bit less defensible, though...let's just say that, veering away from a small bush, I managed to run (fortunately at a rather low speed) into the wall of a Domino's pizza. Again, that one was slow enough that it barely knocked me off my bike, but still, for future reference if faced between crashing into shrubbery or into a building, I think I might recommend the plant life.
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Set the oven for 450 degrees and bake for 10 minutes. Reduce the temperature to 375 and bake for another 27 minutes.

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Tasting notes: To be honest, I have some mixed feelings about these loaves. On the one hand, they have maybe the best texture of any of the breads I've made so far: a dense, good crumb, a nice chewy crust on top with a slightly crispier crust on bottom, and all that. However, the taste is rather bizarre. I spent a little while trying to figure out what it tasted like, but I think I've decided that it tastes eerily like the Bavarian Rye from way back. (And, rereading that post, I realize that the "Tasting verdict" is rather misleading...while fresh out of the oven that bread tasted good, the next day it was not nearly as good, and within another day it was almost inedible, becoming my least favorite bread of the last half year). However, all that aside, I will say that this afternoon this bread made for a truly superior PB+J sandwich.

Most-amusing-question-posed-to-me of the week: Today (just after dinnertime) I was playing soccer with a group of other grad students, mostly internationals, and after about 30 minutes one of the guys I had never seen before (and who, until this moment, had not said anything to me) shouted across the field to me, much to the amusement of just about everyone on the pitch at the moment, "Are you Iranian?" This was apparently prompted solely by the fact that I apparently play soccer "too technical" to be an American. None of us were really sure what that meant.

Portuguese Sweet Bread

This week: another one of those delicious, egg-and-butter rich loaves of questionable health value. Because after last week's loaf I just want something tasty.

Start out by proofing 5 teaspoons of yeast and 1 teaspoon of sugar in 1/2 a cup of warm water. After a few minutes, add 1/2 a cup of warm milk, 1 stick of softened butter, 3 lightly beaten eggs, 1 tablespoon of salt, and 1 cup of sugar. Which seems like a lot, but I guess they don't call it "sweet bread" for nothing!

Anyway, one cup at a time stir in about 4 cups of all-purpose flour. The recipe suggests this will be all that is needed, and to add extra flour only until the dough loses its stickiness. My experience was somewhat different, as after 4 cups all that was in front of me was a very thick, sludge-like liquid. Anyway, I added maybe another 2 or 2 1/2 cups of flour just to get a dough I could knead, and even then the dough was extremely soft and loose. Actually, the dough was vaguely reminiscent of oobleck, now that I think of it!

First Rising (2 hours)
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Reasons why I should like the summer: Well, first and foremost I suppose, would be how much less stressful the days are. No exams to prepare for, no problem set deadlines pressing down upon you, just a steady flow of work. It's funny, but even though I'm putting in almost identical hours (albeit minus the teaching workload) it just feels like much less work.
Second, the pace of the day is much friendlier. The knowledge that I could sleep in if I wanted to, or take an extra 15 preparing a nice breakfast instead of a quick bowl of cereal, makes the start of the day so much nicer, even if, in fact, I almost never do either of those things.
As I mentioned last week, now that the summer has started and there are so many fewer students on campus, I feel like I'm starting to recognize faces on my walks to and from work. Kind of a nice, if fake, small town feel.
And, I must admit, not having to walk past lines of squiffy undergrads outside of bars (or, closer to the weekends, rather more thoroughly drunk ones) has been a welcome change. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Punch the dough down and cut it in half with a butter knife. Which will actually be trickier than it sounds...the dough at this point will have a sort of quicksand-ish quality, and will try to yank the knife away and drag it down to the depths. Anyway, shape each half into a loaf, and put one in a buttered 9x5 bread pan. For some variety, though, why not go for a circular loaf and put the other half in one of those medium-sized frying pans. Cover, set aside, and let rise again until doubled in bulk.

Second Rising (2 hours)
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Reason why the summer is actually my least favorite season: the heat. The mind-melting, soul-sapping, draining, awful oppressive heat. The sort of heat that makes it impossible to think, that discourages you from wanting to cook anything interesting to eat. Temperatures that make you forget your distaste for water (and inability to swim) and suddenly long for a swimming pool. Weather in general that makes you feel like nothing so much as a gelatinous blob of cooked spaghetti (or, perhaps more aptly, a string of wet sponges). Now, I know, I know... I just need to build some character and get over it. But I am not a fan.
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Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. While it is warming up, thoroughly beat one egg. Liberally brush the beaten egg on the loaves, and then bake for 32 minutes.

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Tasting verdict: As the astute reader has perhaps figured out by now, I rather like the whole genre of egg and butter loaded loaves. And this one is no exception. I think I managed to slightly under-cook it (just by a hair), so there is definitely some room for improvement in this loaf. The fact that an entire cup of sugar went into the bread is awfully apparent, and as a result this bread is just teetering on the brink of being overly sweet. But, all in all, I really quite like it...definitely in the top 50% (maybe even the top third) of the loaves I've made so far.

Swedish Limpa Bread

Before we get going with this week's loaf, I wanted to quickly address the comment Jesse left last week, in which he said I made it sound so easy to bake bread. I want to stress that it really is that easy! I mean, I have no real expertise here, and certainly didn't know anything about making bread before I started a few months ago. And remarkably, I have yet to seriously mess a loaf up. I have therefore concluded that with somebody else's recipe, modern ingredients, and the patience to knead the dough well, it is practically impossible to screw up a basic loaf of yeast-based bread. So anyway, please do try these loaves out on your own if you feel like it; I'd love to hear how it comes out!

Now, since this is the start of my Spring Break, I thought I would go for a more intensive bread than usual. This time we'll be going with another Scandinavian bread, and I think this one set my record for needing to go shopping for the most extra ingredients. But it's worth it.

Start out by dissolving 1 teaspoon of sugar and 2 1/2 teaspoons of yeast in 1/4 of a cup of warm water. While that's just sitting there, in a separate bowl combine 2 tablespoons of melted butter, 2 teaspoons of salt, 2 cups of room-temperature beer (since I didn't have any already in the apartment and I didn't really want to buy a whole six-pack when I only needed a bottle and a half, I went with one of those single, oversized bottles of Wychwood "Hobgoblin: Dark English Ale"...but I think anything reasonably flavorful would be fine, too), and 1/3 of a bear of honey (I suppose, just in case anybody is trying to follow this recipe, I should clarify that the plastic bear-shaped bottles of honey that my supermarket sells are exactly 1 cup. But I rather like quoting honey in bears! It's such a natural unit...) In another separate dish grate the peels of two medium-sized oranges (I got about 2 tablespoons of grated peel out of this), and add 1 tablespoon of caraway seeds (in your wisdom, you might know that rye bread gets its distinctive smell from caraway seeds...but me, in my ignorance, just took a whiff and thought, "gosh, this smells just like rye bread"). Finally, in yet another dish (by this point I had run out of mixing bowls, so this last one was done on a dinner plate) mix together 3 cups of all purpose flour and 2 1/2 cups of dark rye flour.

Blend together the two liquid mixtures, and also stir in the grated orange peel and caraway seeds. Then add just 3 cups of the flour mix, and thoroughly beat with a wooden spoon until it has an even consistency. An even consistency somewhere between mud and Jello pudding. Cover with tin foil and set in a warm spot for the

First Rising (45 minutes)
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So, I made it through that last week of classes (not to mention Thursday's midterm), and now it's Spring break. On the one hand, I wish I were headed off somewhere...not Acapulco or anything, but just around the East coast, say. Unfortunately, the price of gas and plane tickets, along with the demands of classes (one take-home midterm over the break, and one midterm the day break ends) have conspired to make that relatively impossible.

On the other hand, though, I think this will be a pretty good break. I usually go a bit stir crazy if I have too much time off on vacation. Two or three days normally and suddenly I start wishing I had something to do. So, I did absolutely no work this weekend, and now that I'm just starting to feel a bit antsy about what to do with myself, I'll be able to start easing into work tomorrow. Nothing too stressful; just enough to keep me busy.
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After uncovering the dough it will still be an oozing, sub-pudding-consistency mess. So, instead of punching the dough down, just stir it until it deflates a bit. Then stir in the rest of the flour, and start kneading. For the first few minutes the dough will have a rather rough texture, as if you could still feel the seeds and orange peels throughout. After kneading in about another 1/4 cup of flour, though, the dough will become much smoother. When it's reasonably smooth and elastic, put in a buttered bowl, cover, and let undergo the

Second Rising (1 hour and 15 minutes)
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Re-reading that last "First Rising" comment just made me really sad. I mean, it's all true, but man. Apparently I have no idea how to take a vacation. Come to think of it, I don't think that's all that unusual. Outside of video games and watching TV, I vaguely feel like people in general aren't really good with having lots of free time. Or (and this is perhaps more likely) maybe it's just that I spend too much time in a physics building populated at all odd hours of the day by graduate students...not exactly exemplars of people with normal life priorities.
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Now the dough has a proper consistency for being punched down. Do it! Then shape into a large ball, put on a buttered cookie sheet, and clear out some space in the fridge...If your fridge is anything like mine, some considerable Tetris talent might come into play in figuring out how to fit a cookie sheet in there. I recommend playing the Tetris song as inspiration (I was floored to discover recently that what I think of as the Tetris song was actually a song written in 1861 called "Korobeiniki"). Once the refrigerator door can finally close with the bread inside, find something to do while the bread sort of just

Chills Out (3 hours)
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And speaking of which, we're just two days into this vacation and the few friends of mine that are also hanging around campus and I have already managed to go to the movies twice (with yet a third cinema trip tentatively planned for Tuesday). Neither movie was really all that good. First we saw Semi-Pro (that new Will Ferrell film), and it was just bad. I mean, there were a few chuckle-moments, but the whole film felt like a faded carbon copy of every other film he's done. Disappointing. The movie the next day was the Bank Job, which was interesting and at least fun to watch. But again, it felt like it borrowed a bit too much from that main actor's (sorry..I'm horrible with the names) other movies to be really great.

It's a bit strange...I almost never (or at least, very rarely) enjoy the films that I see in theaters, but there something about just going to the movies that I really like. I don't know if its the experience of seeing a movie in a large crowd (halfway between faceless and not, since you know whoever you went with but not anybody else in the room), the extra spectacle of the big screen and loud volume, the bizarrely uniform seating from theater to theater, or just the movie candy (Junior Mints...every time. Objectively the best movie candy ever made). But, whatever it is, I'm always somehow up for going again.
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Take the dough out of the refrigerator, and let it sit for 15 minutes at room temperature while the oven preheats to 375 degrees. Just before putting the bread in the oven, take a very sharp knife and make a few slashes to allow the bread to freely expand just a bit more as it bakes. Since we've already done diagonal slashes and cross shapes, take this opportunity to hone your Zorro-like initialing skills. Bake for an hour.

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Tasting verdict: First, let me say that the following might, just might be biased by the fact that today I skipped breakfast, started making this bread at 11:00 (thinking I would have a late lunch - I really hadn't read the recipe very carefully), and didn't finish until about 6:30, with only the two oranges whose peels I grated as snacks during the day. Having said that, though, this bread was just awesome! It has a very crisp crust, and the interior has a chewy, medium-density sort of crumb. And the taste! Quite flavorful, sweet but not obnoxiously so, with those excellent hints of orange that clearly come through but don't overwhelm. Okay, enough gushing, but I really do like this bread. Depending on how well it holds up over the week, this will be vying with the anadama for the coveted title of "Best loaf...so far."

Currently reading: A "working vacation" sort of mix: Shakespeare's Pericles and Baym's Lectures on Quantum Mechanics.

Next week: If I'm feeling ambitious enough to start preparing it the necessary days in advance, a sourdough loaf. And if not...well, something else.

Bavarian Rye

A simple, solid rye bread this week (albeit without some of the more traditional Bavarian methods, like air-tight wooden kegs for the dough to rise in, but still)...this one is almost comically easy to make, although it does require a certain amount of patience.

Get things going by combining 2 1/2 teaspoons of yeast, 1 1/2 cups of warm water, and 1 heaping tablespoon of salt. Slowly stir in as much of 3 3/4 cups of rye flour as you can...a bit tricky since the dough will be quite tough and sticky. Anyway, knead on a lightly floured board, but you really only need to knead this dough until all of the flour is evenly blended in. Place the dough in a buttered bowl, cover it with plastic wrap, cover that with tin foil, and place in a "semi-warm" area for the ridiculously long

First Rising (17 hours)
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Speaking of things that take 17 hours...this weekend is the start of one of my friend's first solo exhibition in a gallery in upstate New York, and I'm sure just by virtue of being on a long list in some address book I was sent an email invitation to the opening. It would have been great to go, and so I spent all of this week half planning, half idly pondering actually going. It got to the point where I had somebody lined up to cover my Friday afternoon teaching assignment, had the routes printed out, and had great plans of leaving at midnight, showing up just in time for the show, popping over to Williams to surprise everyone there. It would have been so much fun, I'm sure.

But then that annoyingly sensible part of me took hold, and realized that I was actually thinking of spending something like thirty five hours driving by myself over the course of three days, seeing friends for maybe a third as much time, with my course work piling up back in Illinois all the while. That just wouldn't have worked. Still, once you've had an idea like that and then decide not to go through with it, you feel like you're just no fun anymore, unwilling to put those half-crazy-but-inspired ideas into action. Like an old fuddy duddy.
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Unwrap the dough. As the recipe somewhat humorously notes, it will look like the dough "hasn't changed much, but punch it down anyway." Knead the dough (now quite easy to work with) for a few minutes, the place in a buttered 8x4 inch bread pan (perhaps reveling in the fact that, after a month, you finally have such a sized pan!). Place in an oven, turned to its lowest setting, with the door partly opened, and wait until the dough has doubled in bulk during the

Second Rising (1 hour and 15 minutes)
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So far I'm not too much liking the rhythm of this semester...the classes and the teaching is all fine, but their distribution throughout the week is not so great. All of my work is due Wednesday and Thursday, so there's this regular frenzy of work Sunday through Wednesday night as I try to get everything done, compounded by the fact that all of my office hours and most of my class time is also right at the beginning of the week. But then Thursday rolls around, and everything just evaporates. I have to teach early in the morning on Thursday, and then there is a break of a few hours before my one Thursday class, and then nothing. Oh, there's also another physics 101 section I teach on Friday afternoon, but having already gone through the material twice by that point in the week, I don't need to really do any prep work for that section. Really, it just seems strange having two or three days feel so empty when the other four or five are just a mad dash, filled with things to do. Hopefully I'll figure out something to do about that...unfortunately, though, so far all of the extra-curriculars I've found that might be interesting also have all of their meetings at the beginning of the week, and that just won't do....hmm...
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Heat oven to 375. Brush the top of the loaves with a mixture of one egg yolk beaten into about a tablespoon of milk, and bake for 50 minutes. Set a new record by waiting less than a minute before cutting a slice and eating piping hot. Marvel at how easy the bread is to slice.

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Tasting verdict: I'm very excited, as this tasted (more or less) just like a bakery-made rye bread! A rather small loaf, and maybe it doesn't look quite as nice (although I kind of like the cracked appearance of the sides!), but quite tasty, with an excellent crust, and very dense.

Currently reading: Potential advisors' papers...still looking.

Next week: Maybe a different rye? Or maybe something else altogether....

Norwegian Whole Wheat

Today I'm a bit crunched for time (trying to get some problem sets done), so this entry will, in fact, be almost entirely about the bread. But don't worry, this week's effort was exciting...

So, this weekend I found myself needing to return a glass plate (one that had been lent to me bearing a chocolate cake!). Of course I couldn't return an empty dish, so I decided to try a recipe that would yield two loaves. What I found was this free-form Norwegian
whole wheat recipe, supposedly used by the "Government School for Domestic Science Teachers" in Oslo sometime in the 70's, and if nothing else, it taught me several valuable lessons...for instance, "If you are making a gift loaf, it is probably best to go with a bread you already know how to make," or " make sure you have the correct ingredients before starting."

So, start off by adding 5 teaspoons of yeast to 1/2 cup of warm milk. After about five minutes, add two tablespoons of salt and then notice that the recipe calls for 3 1/2 more cups of warm milk, when you only have about 1 cup left in the fridge. Run to a local convenience store to buy the milk, warm it up, and then add it. Next, the recipe recommends slowly adding 2 cups of rye flour, 2 cups of all purpose flour, and 8 cups of whole wheat flour. I suggest something more along the following lines: in a separate bowl get the flours ready by adding the 2 cups of rye flour, and about 6 cups of whole wheat flour. Now, and this is important, the first key step is to actually run out of the wheat flour. Then add somewhere between 1 and 3 cups of all-purpose flour. Have the sudden inspiration to check other recipes in the book to see how to substitute wheat and all-purpose. Confirm, thankfully, that you can swap them one-for-one. Here's the next critical step: forget in that intervening time how much all-purpose flour you've already added. Then add about 2 more cups all purpose flour. Convince yourself that you've done everything right, and start adding the flour mixture to the liquid mixture. If you've followed these steps carefully, by the time it is simply impossible to stir any more flour into the dough, there should be at least 2 cups of flour left. Sigh slightly at the waste, and get ready to knead.

Ajax v. Hector...Roland v. Oliver...Beowulf v. Grendel...these epic battles all paled in comparison to the vicious struggle awaiting any who would dare try to knead this mass of dough into shape. It is not just the relative stiffness of the dough (certainly not any worse than the pumpernickel)...no, that would be easy to deal with. It is the shear quantity of dough this recipe produces that makes it so difficult to work with. Normal kneading techniques really only work the surface of this forming blob of pre-baked bread, so I recommend some alternatives. For instance, don't just lean your weight into the kneading motion; actually jump in the air and use your entire airborne mass to fold the dough over and into itself. Best make sure nobody is watching you first, though.

After about 15 minutes of such cardiovascular exercise, do the usual: put bread into a well buttered bowl, cover it, set in a warm place, and wait until it has doubled in bulk during the

First Rising (1 hour)
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A few days ago I agreed to help out a friend by volunteering to participate in a functional MRI study (they were looking at something related to how the brain signals swallowing and certain tongue motions). Basically, I got to sit motionless in a very noisy, rather uncomfortable contraption, able to see nothing other than the image of a computer screen reflected in a mirror giving me instructions ("prepare to swallow"..."swallow") for about an hour and a half. On the upside, though, I did get some imported Greek chocolate out of the deal, and it was delicious. Also, the sound of the magnets in the MRI going through their cycles reminded me vaguely of the music in Koyaanisqatsi.... strange.
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Alright, punch the dough down, and knead it for another few minutes, being thankful that it is now somewhat more workable. Cut it in half, shape each half into a ball, and place on cornmeal-sprinkled cookie sheets. Use a sharp knife to score the top of the bread. The recipe calls for a cross-shaped scoring, instead of the more traditional parallel cuts. Try each method, one per loaf (I have to say, the crossed one came out much nicer!). Anyway, cover and return to that warm place until each loaf doubles in bulk during the

Second Rising (The recipe says this will take as long as 2 hours. It took all of 40 minutes for me...I wonder if my modifications to the recipe made any difference...probably not, right?)
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Last week was my first week of teaching this semester, and by and large it went much better than the first week last semester. Except for the fact that during my Thursday morning section I started laughing at the absurdity of my teaching a class of college students. I didn't laugh overly loudly, but it was right in the middle of my trying to deliver a lecture, with nothing remotely funny going on. Those students must think I'm insane.
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Heat oven to 375. Brush the top of the loaves with milk to give a textured crust, and bake for about 50 minutes (until they sound hollow when tapped). Deliver the prettier of the two loaves back to the glass plate's rightful owner, as during this time the other loaf will have cooled off enough to be sliced, buttered, and eaten.

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Tasting verdict: A solid effort. Truthfully, not nearly as good as the last two loaves were...the taste was fine, but not particularly remarkable. Still, the crust is excellently crisp (even better than the anadama last week), and the bread is certainly dense enough to make for some very filling sandwiches.

Currently reading: "Mathematics for Physics II - A set of lecture notes by Michael Stone"... a particularly choice excerpt: "You can't comb flat a hairy sphere, but you can comb a hairy doughnut." How true.

Next week: I'm leaning towards something that will yield substantially less dough than this week's recipe. Perhaps a Bavarian rye bread?