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.

Dark herb bread

Time for another sandwich loaf after last week's flatbread, and since I had less work than usual this weekend I thought I would make a marginally fancier-than-usual bread.

So, start out by proofing 5 1/2 teaspoons of yeast in 1/2 a cup of warm water and 1 tablespoon of sugar. In a large mixing bowl, mix together 3 cups of whole wheat flour, 1 cup of dark rye flour, 1 cup of bread flour, 1 tablespoon of salt, and 1 teaspoon of pepper. Add to this 2 generous tablespoons of olive oil, the yeast mixture, and another 1 1/4 cups of warm water.

Now, for the final addition to this mix, chop up three cloves of garlic, and grind it with a mortar and pestle, along with 1 teaspoon of rosemary and 2 tablespoons of parsley, into a paste. Or, if like me your kitchen has a semi-temporary (okay, okay...permanent) shortage of mortars and pestles, substitute instead a cereal bowl and soup spoon.

Anyway, it turns out cereal bowls and soup spoons aren't good at getting things to a paste-like consistency. Well, dump everything into the mixing bowl, stir, and then knead for a good 12 minutes, making a slightly moist but quite elastic dough. Put in an olive-oiled bowl, cover, and set aside for the

First rising (1 hour and 30 minutes)
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This Week in Breakfast: the "Lemons-to-Lemonade" edition:

This week I was faced with what seemed at first to be quite the crisis (on the scale of breakfasts, anyway). I had apparently badly miscalculated how much milk I had left when I had gone grocery shopping last weekend, and so I woke up this Wednesday to discover that at just less than half a cup, I didn't even have enough milk for a bowl of cereal. What was I to do?

Confession time (link - page 4): despite having been in the Midwest for almost a year and a half now [update: I'm not trying to call pancakes particularly midwestern...just that I've only been really cooking for myself since moving here], when I woke up on Tuesday I had yet to actually make myself pancakes. (I'm going to be honest: I really like pancakes) So, faced with the possibility of not having a decent breakfast and thus getting the day off on totally the wrong foot, I decided there was only one thing to do. So, overcoming all obstacles -- for instance the fact that, upon closer inspection of the recipe, I didn't actually have enough milk to make a batch of pancakes [um...I tried using an extra egg and adding a little water...not the best result, but still pretty tasty], or the fact that the size of my frying pan, combined with my relative ineptitude when it comes to flipping things, forced me to make one pancake, turn everything off, eat the pancake while still warm, turn the stove back on, make one more pancake, and so on -- I went and made some of the best pancakes I've had since the last time I was home.

So, it turns out that pancake batter keeps in the fridge fairly well, at least for a day or two. So, since I couldn't really finish off a batch of pancakes all by myself, I ended up saving a bunch of the batter and having delicious, delicious pancake breakfasts for the next two days. And then, when Friday morning rolled around (still a day away from my usual Saturday grocery run) and I was out of batter....well, I just had no choice but to make myself an extra-large omelet to use up the last of the Cheddar cheese I got last week.

Anyway, on the whole I had probably the best consecutive series of breakfasts since I moved out here. I might have to forget to buy milk more often.
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Punch the dough down, and knead for another minute or so. Then, shape into a loaf and put in a greased 9x5 bread tin, re-cover, and let stand for the

Second rising (1 hour)
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Currently reading (with commentary):

Late last weekend I finished that David Foster Wallace essay collection (on the whole, I quite liked it... a fun read), so now it's on to the other book I picked up when I bought that one, which happened to be a paperback copy of four of Milton's poems (but mostly, just Paradise Lost for my current purposes). Now, I didn't think about it when I was buying it, but in retrospect I think that just pushed Paradise Lost, with three copies I can think of, into the lead in the "most copies of a given text appearing in books I own" competition (out of multi-way tie with "The Master and Margarita" and a handful of Shakespeare plays that I happen to have two copies of for whatever reasons). Which made me start to wonder why I would like Milton enough to have three copies of one of his works scattered across my collection (please, no comments on my general apparent prediliction for old-dead-white-guy literature :) Or, if you must, at least join me in wondering why this particular old dead white guy as opposed to others.)

So anyway, I think my tentative explanation (I haven't thought about this too too hard so far) is that sometimes I feel like reading Milton is a breath of fresh air (albeit, admittedly, a breath of very dense, literate, and occasionally overly stuffy fresh air). Which I think I mean in two senses. First, I feel like there's less of the "cleverness-for-cleverness' sake" in his works. Objectively, this may or may not be true, and I have no doubt that he enjoyed turning an especially fine phrase as much as his contemporaries, but at the very least I'm less conscious of it in his writing than in some others. So, when I get tired of writers whose very writing screams "oh, look at how awesome I am" I think I enjoy going back to something whose art is more in service of its theme.

Second, and perhaps more relevant in my current state of mind, I've always thought Paradise Lost possessed of a certain intellectual honesty in the way Milton sets up the argument he's about to expound. From the very beginning he declares the purpose of the poem (that whole "justifie the wayes of God to men" thing), and he then proceeds to set up a poetic universe where God very much needs that justification. Or rather, where (even though we all know where he is going to come down on the issues) he gives the side he is opposed to one of the strongest versions of its position he can, instead of just setting up blatant straw men to knock down. After listening to perhaps a few too many of the political "arguments" that have been swirling around as we approach this election, where I think at least 90% of the debates I've had the pleasure to be in the same room as have quickly devolved into ad hominem shouting matches largely divorced from any point anybody had been trying to make...I think having a touch of that sort of intellectual, argumentative honesty -- even just reading a literary version of it -- helps calm my nerves. Or something like that.
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Slash the top of the loaf three times with the sharpest knife you own. Bake for 20 minutes at 400 degrees, then turn the oven down to 350 and bake for another 25 minutes. Cool before slicing...this loaf seems a little less stable to fresh slicing than some of my other breads.


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Tasting verdict: Actually, I think this one turned out rather well! The taste is not really what I was expecting...after baking the parsley flavor came out a little bit more than I expected it to, so in the future I might want to add some extra rosemary. But the really pleasant surprise was the garlic: after baking the bread still has some of the heat left over from the garlic, but largely without the taste of it. An intriguing result, I'd say! Anyway, I'm a little concerned with how well this loaf will hold up over the course of the week (my past experience with whole wheat based breads has been that they lose a lot of texture and get overly crumbly about 4 days after they come out of the oven), but for the time being really quite a tasty little loaf.

Moral victory of the week: I hadn't really planned either of my little random digressions for this week's post (as I'm sure you've already guessed by now!) So, in retrospect, I'm immensely pleased that I managed to get both Milton and pancakes into a single blog post.

Sourdough rye (updated 07/09)

Well, first, sorry about whatever happened to last week's post...I'm not really sure why the full post isn't show up.

Anyway, this week by request (from way back in January...oops!) I've decided to try my first sourdough. However, since making a sourdough takes so much time (four days, and I only just started last night), I'll have to change the format up just a little. I'll go through as much of the method as I've already done, give a quick life update, and then finish this post up sometime on Wednesday.

To get started, we need to make the "starter." How appropriate. Anyway, this is absurdly simple: pour 1 cup of warm water into a tupperware container. Stir in 1 cup of all-purpose flour, and a scant 1/2 of a teaspoon of yeast. Cover, and put in some out of the way place. You might think the top of the fridge is a likely candidate, but the smell this is on the verge of emitting will almost undoubtedly convince you that some out-of-the-way closet is a far better choice. Anyway, leave the starter alone for

The Sitting (clearly, I have no idea what to actually call this step... anyway, 2 days at room temperature, followed by 1 day in the fridge)
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I just got back from my first ever trip to St. Louis, where a small group of us went for the 4th of July. First: the arch is cool. Very cool. It really looks pretty amazing up close, and makes for some awfully picturesque views of the city from downtown. Also, did you know you can go inside of the arch? I had no idea, and that fact alone makes it all the cooler. Unfortunately, the inside isn't all that spectacular: you get shuttled to the top in these tiny, claustrophobic, vaguely egg-shaped pods, where you have the pleasure of being crammed in a hallway with loads of other tourists, trying to peer out of tiny little windows that view either the downtown or the river. So, maybe you only ever need to go to the top of the arch once in your life.

Other highlights of the trip include: a most excellent lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant (my first time eating Ethiopian food, I'm quite sure), the bizarre yet fantastic City Museum (I really can't even begin to describe what that place is like, and sadly their website doesn't really do the place justice, either), and St. Louis' 4th of July parade (needless to say, much larger than my hometown's, and even though it did have three dancing purple cows (!!), it perhaps lacked some of the goofier touches I had learned to expect back home [random guy with the homemade 4-foot dinosaur model on a trailer in absolutely no context, I'm talking to you!])

Oh, and on a completely unrelated note, while typing this I was just watching Nadal beat Federer in a truly epic Wimbledon final. That was a fun match to watch, even if I was a bit ambivalent about the result. This just really isn't shaping up to be Federer's year.
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Now, on the morning of the day we're going to bake this bread, we'll combine 1 cup of rye flour, 1/2 of a cup of warm water, and 1/2 of a cup of the starter. Incidentally, this will not use up all of the starter, and it turns out you can replenish the starter and keep it going indefinitely by adding equal amounts of flour and water to it (a process which, for fun, let's refer to as "feeding the dragon"), letting it stand at room temperature, and then putting it in the fridge. And when I say indefinitely, I really mean it. It takes all of two minutes to hard to find people claiming starters that are from the mid-1960's.

Anyway, at the end of the day, after dinner, stir the dough down. Then add 2 tablespoons of melted butter, 1 heaping tablespoon of sugar, 1 teaspoon of salt, 1 teaspoon of poppy seeds, and 3/4 of a tablespoon of caraway seeds. Pour in 1 1/4 teaspoons of yeast dissolved in 1/4 of a cup of warm water, and stir it all together. Add in 2 cups of all-purpose flour, and get to kneading. This dough is really a throwback to those mighty breads of yore, requiring a good, solid 15 minutes of rather aerobic kneading to work in enough extra flour (about 1/2 of a cup for me) so that the resulting dough has the right consistency. Once finished, place in a buttered bowl, cover, and let rest during the

First rising (1 hour and 45 minutes)
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Well, today I got to the end of yet another booklet of stamps. I'm not sure how many that makes since I moved out here...I think 3, but I haven't been keeping track. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that means I write more letters than the average person, although, as the UPU tells me, significantly less than the number of letters per US citizen sent if you count business and junk mail.

On the one hand, of course, it's just that I'm selfish, always happy when I see a letter waiting for me at the end of the day. Add that to the fact that my apartment lacks internet access (which has, sadly, led to a unfortunately lengthening of my email response times... sorry about that!), and the fact that I'm still slightly afraid of my cell phone, and old fashioned mail starts to emerge as a good way to keep in touch with people.

But I think there's another reason I like writing letters so much, and that's that I'm actually forced to plan them out. Whereas typing an email (or this blog, for that matter) is so quick, and everything is easy to shuffle around, letters take me an absurdly long time to write out (owing to my truly stupendous handwriting, as you all know). Which means that, more or less, I have to actually think about what I'm going to say. Think through how I want the letter to be structured, or if I want to try for a particular arc of the tone of the writing. Sort of all of the fun parts of writing a paper for class, but without the hair-pulling hours spent in the library. And, naturally, it's not as though I actually succeed in creating masterwork letters, or that I always plan so thoroughly for them. Just that, on the whole, I do much more of that when writing by hand than when typing away, and I think that's a good thing.
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Punch the dough down. While the dough is left reeling from the force of that vicious onslaught, butter a baking sheet and sprinkle liberally with cornmeal. Shape the dough into a ball, put on the cookie sheet, cover, and leave alone for about an hour.

As the end of that hour approaches, set the oven for 375 degrees. While it is warming up, beat 1 egg with about a tablespoon of cold water. Cut three parallel incisions (be sure to make them much too deep, as I did), and then brush the dough with the egg mixture. Bake for 30 minutes. When it comes out of the oven, cool on a rack, but cover with a towel while it cools. This supposedly keeps the crust from hardening too much.

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Tasting verdict: Actually, I really rather like this bread. It tastes quite like a rye bread, but the texture is so much lighter than that. In density it is closer to one of the egg-based breads, I'd say... which makes it very good for sandwiches (even if the rye flavor somewhat limits which sandwiches I can choose to make with it). All in all, I'm not quite sure if this cracks my top 5 "Breads I've Made" list, but if not it sure is close.

Currently eating: Since moving out to the Midwest it's been my goal to make for myself one new dinner dish every week. Well, of course, that hasn't even come close to happening, but it's a good goal, right? (I'd say the reality is only slightly more often than once a month) But anyway, tonight I made a Creamy Gorgonzola pasta sauce ("Oh, but I do love a bit of gorgonzola!") , and I have to say that I'm really quite pleased with it! (I should note that my attempts at making new dishes for the first time have historically averaged just barely above the threshold of edibility.) It gets top marks for being (1) easy, (2) capable of being made in the same amount of time it takes to boil the water and cook the pasta, (3) fairly inexpensive, (4) a pasta sauce not made out of tomatoes (which I have all too often, it feels like), and most importantly, (5) delicious!

Black Bread

A word of warning - I would not recommend doing any of what follows.

So, here's the game plan for making this bread. To start, wake up just before 3:15 a.m. Try to go back to sleep for about half an hour, but fail. Mentally rearrange your schedule for the day, and decide that means it would be best to make your bread for the week then instead of late at night. This decision will be the first mistake of many, so be prepared!

First, proof 5 teaspoons of yeast in 1/4 of a cup of warm water. While that starts to bubble away, stir 3/8 of a cup of cornmeal into 3/4 of a cup of cold water (we've already got some awesome measurements, right?). Once stirred, pour into 3/4 of a cup of boiling water. While the cornmeal/water starts to thicken up, stir in 2 1/2 tablespoons of brown sugar, 1 tablespoon of salt, 1 tablespoon of butter, 1 tablespoon of instant coffee, 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder, and 1 1/2 teaspoons of caraway seeds (I'm pretty sure this recipe has at least twice as many ingredients as any bread I've made so far). Once this mixture is too thick (mistake #2) and sludge-like, pour it into the proofing yeast. "But Daniel!" you exclaim, "Won't pouring boiling hot sludge into yeast kill the yeast and stop the bread from rising?!" Well, yes. Yes, I think it will. That would be mistake number 3.

Anyway, start stirring in the following flours one cup at a time: 2 cups of dark rye flour, 1 cup of whole wheat flour, and 2 cups of all-purpose flour. The dough will be extremely tough, and by the 4th cup of flour it will be almost impossible to stir in anymore. Now, the book recipe suggests adding more warm water as necessary to stir in the right amount of flour. To get to mistake the fourth, badly misread the measuring cup and add another 1/2 cup of warm water. Well, it'll at least be pretty easy to add that last cup of flour now!

Time to knead... and getting this one into shape will truly be a herculean effort! Not only will this be easily the toughest and densest dough yet featured on this blog, thanks to our last mistake we'll have to knead in about another 3/4 of a cup of flour to get the dough to a good, elastic consistency. After a good 15-20 minutes of such kneading, put the dough in a buttered bowl and place in a warm spot for the

First Rising (2 hours)
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A trio of extra learning moments this morning. First, perhaps like me you had never tried instant coffee before. But, in preparing to make a loaf of bread you suddenly find yourself in possession of way too much of it, and at a rather early hour in the morning, no less. Inspiration and curiosity might strike, but you know what? Cheap instant coffee is nasty. But perhaps more inspiration strikes you! After all, you've now also got a tin of cocoa powder. Perhaps adding some cocoa and some sugar might make for a nice mocha beverage? Nope, still gross. Let's call that the fifth mistake.

Now, if you've been following the game plan, about 2/3 of the way through the first rising the sun will start to rise. Don't forget to take a sunrise walk, they are surprisingly nice and relaxing, even if you are quite tired. That's probably your first smart move of the day.

But don't get too cocky about that. Once you've gotten back, eaten breakfast, and brushed your teeth, try to resist the urge to continue eating. As it turns out, the taste of apples and Xtreme Herbal Mint toothpaste do not mix terribly well. Mistake 6.
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After 2 hours, the dough will have risen to, say, an extra 5% of its original volume. Not a good sign. Well, punch the dough down...but be warned: punch this dough and it will punch back! Knead the dough for a few minutes to loosen it up a little bit, then put in a buttered 8x4 bread pan. Now, you could then put the pan somewhere warm for 45 minutes for a second rising -- a sort of hail Mary of hopeless optimism -- but that would be mistake #7: we all know the dough isn't going to rise anymore.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Brush the top of the loaf with a beaten mixture of 1 egg white and 1 tablespoon of cold water. Bake for 50 minutes.

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Tasting verdict: So, the recipe claimed that this would make two 8x4 loaves, but thanks to my little "boil all the yeast to death" fiasco, I barely got one loaf of bread out of this. And, to be honest, I don't think this should be called a loaf... a brick of bread might be the more appropriate appellation. Anyway, the positives: the taste isn't all that bad, rather nice actually. Also, I really like the way the crust looks...sort of like a cracked-earth, desert landscape right in my kitchen! On the other hand, the bread is, as you might have guessed, obscenely dense. All in all, I'd say this was one of my weaker efforts. Also, if anybody has another recipe for making a black bread, I'd love to try it!

Currently reading: It's finals week, so... textbooks and lecture notes.

Currently eating: Deli sandwich with roast beef, provolone, and a bit of mayo. On ridiculously dense bread. Not too bad.

Masha's Marble Bread

I have to say, I was a little bit disappointed by you (dear Reader)...not a single soul responded to my request, my plea for a recipe for the bread I was to bake this weekend. But no matter. As Masha both requested this entry and was the only one to supply me with so much as a hint as to what marble bread even was (much less how to make it), I've named this loaf in her honor. (As an aside: last week, you may recall, I traded a loaf of bread away for a cake, and now this week I've created my own recipe for a bread...I feel like I'm getting steadily closer to removing the "amateur" from my profile description!)

Now, you might think I was slightly nervous about trying to create a fancier-than-average bread with nothing more than a picture to guide me...au contraire! You see, I have a vague, two-part theory about making bread. First: bread can smell fear. Like a ravenous attack dog (of the sort that used to startle me when I would go for a run around my hometown). So, then, when making bread one must be supremely confident, certain that at every step you are doing just the right thing; doubt is only permitted when the bread is safely within the oven. Second: well...we'll save the rest of my theory for another day.

So, to the bread! We'll be preparing two different doughs for this week's loaf, so let's start with the one that has to rise for a longer amount of time, the dark layer. Start things off by proofing 2 1/2 teaspoons of yeast in 1/2 a cup of warm water, with 1 tablespoon of sugar added. After a few minutes, add 2 tablespoons of butter, 1 tablespoon of salt, 2 tablespoons of molasses, and another 3/4 of a cup of warm water. Now, this liquid mixture probably still doesn't look dark enough to provide the sort of contrast you want, so cast about the kitchen for other ingredients you could add. Settle on two Hersey's Dark Chocolate Kisses. Then, with as much panache as you can muster, use a nutmeg grater to add the chocolate powder to the mix. Finally satisfied, add two cups of rye flour, two cups of whole wheat flour, and 1/3 of a cup of cornmeal, stir together, and start kneading. The dough will not be terribly resilient, and will still be slightly sticky, but not to worry: the bread is not yet in the oven, so you can do no wrong. Anyway, place in a buttered saucepan, cover, and set in a draft free spot to start rising. Wash all of the dishes so as to start fresh with the next batch of dough.

The light layer should (as if I know?) just be the whitest white bread possible. So, proof 2 1/2 teaspoons of yeast in 1/2 a cup of warm water and 2 teaspoons of sugar. Then add that to 4 cups of all-purpose flour mixed with 1 tablespoon of salt, and pour in another 3/4 of a cup of warm water (to get the consistency right). Knead this second batch of bread, which won't take nearly as long as any of the other kneading session discussed on this blog. Place in a buttered bowl, cover, and set next to the saucepan for the

First Rising (1 hour and 30 minutes)
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Another tale of woe today (although, I think, not nearly as frightening as the anadama fiasco)... Early last week a bunch of us, all working late in the physics building on a particularly nasty problem set, went out to get some late-night Chinese food as a way of taking a break. Well, dinner was nice (sesame chicken - delicious and, I realized, only the second time I've had Chinese food since leaving New England), and it was good to not think about the work for a while. But at the end of the meal came a terrible shock. Naturally along with the check came a pile of fortune cookies, so I picked one, opened it up, and...

There was no fortune inside!! What kind of horrible omen is that? That I have no fortune, no future? I'm not sure I like that at all. Now, admittedly, I've gotten fortune cookies with two fortunes inside, and so obviously fortune-cookie-quality-control isn't anything folks brag about, but still...the idea of a fortuneless cookie shivers my soul. Anyway, I took another cookie from a large basket by the door, but of course that fortune (something like "You will soon be presented an with an unusual gift. Accept!") hasn't come true...after all, that fortune was not meant for me.
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Take the doughs out of the oven, punch them both down (twice as much fun as usual!), and divide them both into two slightly unequal pieces. Take a rolling pin and flatten the each piece to about the width of the bread pan and long enough so that each is maybe between a quarter and half an inch thick. Then, put the light layer pieces down first, lay the dark layer pieces on top of them, gently press together, and then roll each up (I suppose I should say "like a jelly roll" to have an appropriate food analogy here, but really this reminded me of nothing so much as rolling up a sleeping bag before trying to store it away). Anyway. place the two rolled-up loaves of dough in an 8x4 and a 9x5 bread pan, re-cover, and return to a warm, draft-free spot for the

Second Rising (1 hour and 15 minutes)
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So, I've been teaching this semester's classes for about a month now, and I'm afraid I'm not enjoying it nearly as much as I did last semester. Not only have I taught exactly the same material already (last semester), but even worse is that I've basically already answered every question my students ask me on any given day. I'm still working on fine-tuning both my responses and also, of course, my mini-lectures (I feel I'm slowly getting more competent at that, but really, they need quite a bit more work), but there's just much less excitement to it all, and I'm not surprised nearly as much as I was the last time around. So on the one hand, I'm not nearly as nervous as I was last semester (and have almost gotten used to the idea of standing up and talking to a class of people), so there's less nervous energy, but I'm afraid that also means there's just less total energy.

In part it's also that my students this semester seem a lot less energetic themselves. All of the older grad students have told me they tend to notice the same thing each year, that spring semester always much less fun than the fall (even when teaching different classes), but still...I don't remember students seeming substantially different from spring to fall semesters in college, and I can't really think of a good reason why that would be the case. What do you think?
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Set oven to 387.5 (we've made everything else up, so why not pick an unusual number?). While the oven is heating up, brush the tops of the dough with cold milk to try to give the crust some texture, and bake for 40 minutes. The crust on this bread will be only marginally thicker than last week's cinnamon bread, so again, wait a while before slicing.

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Tasting verdict: First, a quick comment about the appearance...on the one hand, I rather like the, let's say, elegant curve of the boundary between the two doughs inside this loaf. On the other hand, I had hoped for more of an interlocking spiral than what I got. So, I think a good future modification to the recipe would be to make slightly more of the light layer than I did, and then flatten out both doughs much more thinly before rolling them together. Having said all that, though, I'm quite happy to report that my first foray into creating my own bread recipe yielded quite tasty results. The two breads are just mixed together enough that you get some of each with every bite (well, except maybe for one chunk in the middle), and they really do complement each other pretty well: one very light and airy, the other dense and flavorful. All in all, a success!

Currently reading: Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac (just finished), and Borges' Labyrinths (just starting)

Next week: After this week's whirlwind adventure in making stuff up, I'm not sure what I'll try next...any suggestions?

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....

Pumpernickel - The Beginning

Combine 2 1/2 teaspoons of yeast with 1/4 cup warm water and 1 tablespoon of sugar. Let stand for 5 minutes. Then add 1 tablespoon of salt, 2 tablespoons of butter, 2 tablespoons of molasses (N.B. don't be tempted into just trying the molasses...it's gross), and 1 more cup warm water. Combine and slowly add to this 2 cups dark rye flour, 1 cup whole wheat flour, 1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour, and 1/2 cup cornmeal.

The resulting dough was extremely stiff, and I needed a little musical inspiration to knead in the last of the flour...and neither Bach nor the Muppets was going to cut it. Fortunately, the recipe for this bread let me know just what was needed: the cookbook called this a pumpernickel with "Scandinavian accents," so of course I realized I just needed to pop on some Swedish death metal. Sadly, a quick check through my iPod revealed what you have no doubt already guessed: my collection of death metal, let alone that of the Swedish variety, is rather limited. Somehow I made do without.

Place the dough in a buttered bowl, cover it, and set it in a warm, dry area until it has doubled in bulk as it undergoes the


First Rising (2 hours and 10 minutes)
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Why bread, and why a blog? The first one's easy...This year I got very few presents for my birthday, and what I did get was largely the following (from Mom): a 9 by 5 inch bread pan, a jar of active dry yeast, and a book on how to bake bread. Well, when it's made that obvious even I can take a hint!

And why the blog? Well, a twofold answer...on the one hand, this was a friend's (joking?) suggestion, and, after all, I am in the business of making my friends happy! On the other hand (and perhaps a bit more selfishly), I was told this blog would have a cult following. So, after a quick bout of introspection confirmed that "attract a cult following" is on my life's "To do" list, how could I pass this up?
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Punch down the dough several times, then shape it into a loaf and place it in a buttered 8 by 4 inch bread pan. Or, if you only have a 9 by 5 pan, use that instead. Re-cover the dough and return it to a warm dry place for the


Second Rising (3 hours)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ As this is the last night before my second semester begins, this seems as good a time as any to ramble about how uncharacteristically eventful my winter break travels were this year. Now, I love flying, and in the past I've never really had any problems with air travel...an hour-delayed flight at worst, maybe. This time, though, I had flights canceled on both ends of my trip that left me in unplanned locations overnight (in Chicago on the way home, despite a flight plan that had me originally traveling from Urbana to Detroit to Maine, and in Detroit on the way back to school). This, of course, afforded me the opportunity to meet all sorts of interesting folks, from the cheese marketing executive (who talked almost exclusively about the best type of cake and brownie mix - Pillsbury Funfetti cake and Ghirardelli brownie mix, in case you were wondering - to bake and bring to the office), to the Canadian preacher (Who, before I knew his profession, caught me trying to peak over his shoulder to see what book he was reading. It was an exegesis of the Book of Revelations.), to the family from Ohio that invited me to play cards with them in the Detroit Best Western after I volunteered to take a group photo for them.

And somehow, despite how many things managed to go awry, they always did so in the best possible way. For instance, when my original flight out of Urbana was canceled, the next available flight out of the airport wouldn't have gotten me home until the day after my birthday. Yet miraculously I had a friend who happened to be leaving to drive to Chicago literally at that very moment who was willing to give me a ride to O'Hare the next day. Or how when the airlines lost my luggage (with the few gifts I was bringing back)on my way home, they delivered that lost luggage to my door on Christmas morning. And when the same (apparently cursed) suitcase was lost flying back to Urbana (no doubt due to that unexpected overnight in Detroit), it took the airlines less than 6 hours to track down and get on a plane back to me. And this was all topped off by the surreal gesture of U.S. Airways giving me a stuffed teddy bear as an apology for stranding me in both directions. All told, the last two weeks have probably the luckiest stretch of bad luck I've ever had.

But anyway, now I'm back on the ground in Champaign-Urbana, and I'm pretty excited about the upcoming semester. I'll be teaching physics 101 again, and hopefully it goes as well as it did last semester. More on all that later.
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Heat oven to 375 degrees, and bake for 35 to 45 minutes (38 in my case- until the loaf sounds hollow when tapped). Let cool for as long as you can stand to wait before slicing and eating while still deliciously fresh.


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Tasting verdict:
Not like any pumpernickel I've ever eaten before, but still very tasty! Dense, hearty, and hopefully perfect for the upcoming week's lunch sandwiches.

Currently reading:
"One Man's Meat" (a collection of essays by E.B. White) - very good.
"Beard on Bread" (1970's cookbook by James Beard) - so far, delicious.

Next Week:
Hearty white bread... Bavarian rye... New England anadama... Cinnamon bread... I haven't decided yet; what do you think?