In Search of the Perfect Loaf: A Home Baker's Odyssey (8 page)

I submitted two loaves—one with a slightly higher proportion of sourdough than the other. While I had some trouble shaping the loaves, because the dough was more relaxed than usual after the overnight rise, they still came out fine: dark brown, a generous opening at the
grigne
, a decent shape, and, I hoped, a winning taste.

All the loaves were marked with numbered flags and each judged according to crust, crumb, appearance, flavor, and several other categories cribbed from the Paris competition. Some loaves were, to use Kaplan’s words, “insipid,” since they had obviously been made quickly, then languished on store shelves. (The shelf life of a baguette is about six hours, max.) When Tim cut them lengthwise, it was clear that only a few had the open, uneven interior crumb that I was striving for—a basic requirement of well-made loaves in France. Many had the kind of white uniform center that probably resulted from intensive mixing, ample yeast, and high-protein flour. In short, many were replicas of precisely the kind of loaves that had brought down bread in France in the preceding decades. I wasn’t alone in these assessments. Sitting around the conference table and discussing each loaf as they tasted it, the judges were unsparing.

When it came time to taste my loaves, though, I was nearly shaking with nerves but tried hard to mask the fact that this was my bread. Tim sliced into my first loaf, then passed around the pieces. The judges smelled and then nibbled at the bread. I tasted it as well—it had the soft, open crumb I was seeking, a mild hint of
levain,
and, yes!, the crust was still crisp. Joan Nathan said simply, “This is the best one so far.” Even Furstenberg, who was unstinting in his critique of the other loaves, said: “This is a good baguette.” Ziebold agreed. Now, this wasn’t the Paris competition, or anything even remotely close. But when Carman later tallied up the results, my two loaves earned the highest scores. I had topped the professionals!

In the postgame interview, Furstenberg wasn’t pleased. He thought the fact that I was only making a few baguettes at a time gave me an unfair advantage. But as I pointed out, I also lacked what the pros had on hand: commercial deck ovens, loaders, and the experience that comes from pounding out a few hundred loaves a day. For me, perhaps the most telling comment came from Loic Feillet, the owner of Panorama—a wholesale bakery in nearby Alexandria, Virginia. He mentioned that he had tried to sell a baguette similar to the one I was making, but his customers, restaurants and stores around D.C., revolted. He could not convince them that his loaf, made with a hint of sourdough, was superior. So he dumbed it down to their idea of what a baguette should be.

This isn’t unusual. Even in Paris, bakeries routinely undercook their baguettes to meet their customers’ expectations for an extremely pale loaf. By reinforcing this choice, the customer never experiences the taste of a crust infused with the flavor components of the Maillard reaction. It’s like eating chicken with rubbery skin. Somehow customers learn to prefer it. Playing to the lowest common denominator might do wonders for a business, but it has never been a path to greatness. Working in my kitchen, I never had to worry about that. My only customer was the ideal loaf that I had tasted on occasion and had in my head. I didn’t have to compromise. All I had to worry about was to do better next time.

I have made baguettes many times since the competition and the recipe has continued to evolve, less because I am seeking out new flavors than because I’m curious about how different methods alter the taste and appearance of the loaf. I have even done away with the natural leaven on occasion, trying to moderate the slight tug or chew when you bite into the loaf. I cut the yeast in half from the levels I used in the winning recipe. I’m experimenting with “poolish,” in which up to half the flour in the loaf is pre-fermented twelve to fifteen hours before mixing, with just a pinch of yeast, so it’s a bubbling mass by the time you mix it with the remaining flour, water, and salt. This tends to open up the crumb even more because poolish helps break down proteins in that long prefermentation. I’m also playing with the salt levels, so that the sodium doesn’t overpower the natural flavor. The baguette tastes cleaner, more pure, but I imagine that in another few months, I’ll go back to using
levain
again, or raise the amount of whole grains in the loaf for a more rustic feel. In the end, my goal is the same: flavor, an open crumb, a dark crust—in short, a dynamite loaf.

This quest of mine—and the resulting travel piece—got me through the darkest three months of the recession. Work started flowing again. But more than that, this one project—and the obsessive focus it required—grounded me at a tenuous moment. I wasn’t making as much money as before, but I was making a helluva baguette. And that was certainly better than no bread at all.

(
MODERATE
)

Makes 4 loaves

When I first started baking, I stumbled on
stirato,
which is like an easy-to-make baguette. I found it in Joe Ortiz’s
The Village Baker
. Although I didn’t know it at the time, this bread was actually a good one to begin with because it introduced me to the benefits of highly hydrated (that is, very wet) doughs, which create an incredibly airy crumb if handled with a light touch. Ortiz made the dough in a food processor, which you might want to try, but I use a method that combines minimal hand kneading, or more precisely folding, and periodic rests.

With Ortiz’s recipe, the difficulty came in shaping the loaves. I mangled many, with dough stuck on my hands, apron, and counter. Here, I offer a much simpler technique I learned from Roland Feuillas (chapter 7): you simply form a rectangle and cut off the loaves. Then there’s the fun part: hold the end of each one and stretch it out (hence the name,
stirato
), forming a long, thin, irregular baguette-like loaf.

This recipe can be made in one day but requires a long first rise to build flavor and crust color and help ensure you’ll get those holes everyone tends to want in homemade bread. If you bake with sourdough, try adding a tablespoon or two to this dough, simply to build more flavor, though it comes out fine without it. If you mix it around nine
A.M
., it will be ready by dinner.

Tools

Bowl or container

Spatula

Plastic dough scraper

Rectangular baking stone

Rimmed baking sheet, for the oven

Dowel or wooden spoon with a long handle or a chopstick

Parchment paper, cut to the size of the baking stone

Cutting board or second baking sheet, to move the loaves to the oven

Cooling rack

Ingredients

500 grams unbleached all-purpose flour

375 grams water 80˚F (27˚C)

¹
/
₂
teaspoon instant yeast

1 tablespoon sourdough (optional)

10 grams sea salt

Semolina flour, for dusting the loaves

Morning

Combine the flour, water, yeast, and sourdough, if using, in a bowl, mixing together with a spatula or your hand moistened with water for about 1 minute. After the ingredients are combined, make a small indentation on the top of the dough. Add the salt to the small well you’ve just made in the dough, and about 1 tablespoon of water to cover it, but don’t mix it in yet. Cover the bowl and let the dough sit for 20 minutes.

Moisten your hands slightly and use the dough scraper to loosen the dough from the bowl. Rather than knead the dough, you’re going to stretch and fold it in the bowl—a technique I use in nearly all the recipes in the book. Working from the edges of the dough, pull the dough out to stretch it and then fold it over toward the center. You can also squeeze the dough with your fingers to help incorporate the salt. If your hands begin to stick to the dough, moisten them again with water. Work around the dough and stretch and fold it 12 times. This action should take about 1 minute in total. Flip the dough over so the folds are underneath and the smooth side is on top. Cover the bowl and let the dough sit for another 20 minutes.

Do the stretch-and-fold action for one more round. By now you’ll notice that the salt is incorporated and the gluten offers noticeable tension. After folding about 12 times, turn the dough over again, cover the bowl, and let the dough rest for 20 minutes.

Do the stretch-and-fold action 2 more times, at 20-minute intervals. In the final round, the dough should feel very elastic and should be glistening. If it isn’t, add a few more stretch-and-fold actions but be careful not to rip the dough. Turn the dough over so the smooth side is face up.

Cover the bowl and let it sit for 6 to 7 hours. The goal here is for the dough to rise until it has at least tripled in size, but has not collapsed in on itself. By the end of the rise, you might see big air bubbles on the top of the dough.

Afternoon

Preheat the oven to 470˚F (245˚C), with your baking stone on the middle rack, 60 minutes before baking. In the lower part of the oven, or on the bottom, place a rimmed baking sheet that can hold half a cup of water.

Place a piece of parchment paper roughly the size of your baking stone on an overturned and lightly floured or a cutting board baking sheet. Dust the parchment lightly with a 50/50 mixture of white flour and semolina flour or just white flour and set it aside.

Flour a two-foot-square area of your counter generously with the flour/semolina mix or white flour. Dust the top of the dough lightly with flour. Using a plastic dough scraper, gently loosen the dough from the bowl and pour it out onto the counter, being careful to keep it in one piece. The outer, smooth surface will have landed on the floured surface, becoming the bottom of the dough. The top of the dough will be sticky. Dust it lightly with flour. Flour your hands and gently make a rectangle that’s about
³
/
₄
to 1 inch thick and about 10 by 16 inches, with the long side on the east-west axis, or parallel to the edge of the counter. Don’t fuss over it to make it perfect or you’ll compress the dough, losing the open structure of the air holes.

Sprinkle a thick line of flour across the middle of the dough, moving east–west, marking where you will divide the rectangle in half lengthwise. Then sprinkle another two lines of flour through each of those portions, again moving east–west. You will cut the dough along the three lines, making four long loaves. Using a dowel, the wooden handle of a kitchen spoon, or a chopstick, press on the floured line so the pieces separate. A thick, dull tool works well because it joins the dough together at the seam. If the tool does not fully cut through the dough, use your dough scraper to finish cutting the pieces. Separate the pieces so they are not touching each other and cover them with a light towel.

This second fermentation will take about 20 minutes. When the loaves are ready, they will be very light and spring back within one second when you press your finger very lightly into the dough.

Baking

Pour
¹
/
₂
cup water into a measuring cup.

Sprinkle the loaves lightly with semolina/flour. Loosen two loaves gently with the dough scraper. If you put enough flour on the counter it won’t take much effort. Place your hands under the dough at either end of one loaf, then turn it upside down onto the floured parchment paper. To prevent the dough from sagging in the middle while you move the loaf, you can move your two hands closer together, slightly crimping the loaf lengthwise. The floured underside is now facing up. Do this with the second loaf, too. (If your baking stone is big enough, you might be able to place all four loaves on the parchment paper and bake them at once.) Now, here’s the fun part. Lightly grab either end of the dough and gently stretch out the loaf to just under the size of your baking stone. If it resists, don’t pull it—the dough will rip. Do the same with the second loaf. You can straighten out the edges by gently repositioning the loaf with your dough scraper, but don’t fuss too much. Open the oven and slide the parchment paper off the cutting board or baking sheet and onto the baking stone. The loaves will bake on the parchment paper the entire time. Close the oven. Take the
¹
/
₂
cup water and pour it onto the baking sheet, being careful not to get burned by the steam. Shut the oven door.

Bake for 18 to 22 minutes. Do not open the oven until at least 18 minutes into the bake. Bake until dark brown. Using a peel, or oven mitts, remove the loaves to a cooling rack, and let them stand for at least 20 minutes before eating. Repeat the baking method with the second two loaves.

These loaves are best eaten within four hours. If you do not eat all the bread, the loaves can be frozen in a plastic bag. When you’re ready to eat a loaf, remove it from the freezer until it defrosts and bake it for 5 minutes in a 400˚F (205˚C) oven to crisp up the crust. Once reheated, it will go stale relatively quickly.

(
DIFFICULT
)

Makes 4 loaves

This recipe closely follows the one I used to make the winning baguettes in the contest. It might be intimidating, but experienced home bakers will likely recognize the steps. Beginners will need to be patient—to start baking bread with this recipe is like jumping into calculus after third-grade math, so try the
stirato
first. If you don’t yet have any
levain,
you’ll need to make it first.

The
levain
baguette is a wet, slack dough that is challenging to shape. If you end up with something that looks like a twisted branch, don’t despair. Scarf it up—the rich flavor, bubbly internal crumb, and crisp crust will likely surprise you, even if it does not approach the ideal of a Parisian baguette. For additional tips and links to videos showing techniques, visit my Web site at ChewsWise.com.

Tools

Bowl

Spatula

Plastic dough scraper

Rectangular baking stone

Rimmed baking sheet

3 kitchen towels or a
couche
(linen baking fabric that holds the shape of the baguettes as they rise)

Parchment paper, cut to the size of the baking stone

Single-edged razor blade,
lame
, or knife

Cutting board or second baking sheet, to move the loaves to the oven

Cooling rack

Levain
Ingredients

25 grams ripe sourdough

50 grams unbleached organic all-purpose flour

50 grams water

Final Dough Ingredients

90 grams
levain

2 teaspoons instant dry yeast (reduced to 1 teaspoon in the summer)

420 grams water

590 grams unbleached organic all-purpose flour

10 grams organic whole wheat flour

12 grams sea salt

Olive oil, to grease the bowl

Flour, to dust cutting the board

Morning, First Day

Mix the ingredients for the
levain
and let it ferment for 7 to 8 hours, until it has risen but not yet collapsed.

Evening, First Day

Pour the starter and the yeast into the bowl. Add the water and mix together with a spatula or your hand until the starter breaks up a bit. Add the white and whole wheat flours and mix with a spatula or your moistened hand for a couple of minutes until barely incorporated. The dough will be heavy and shaggy. Make a slight indentation on top of the dough, then add the salt and 1 tablespoon of water in this small well so the salt can hydrate. Cover the bowl and let it rest for 20 minutes.

Moisten your hands and use the dough scraper to loosen the dough from the bowl. Stretch out one side of the dough, then fold it into the center, moving around in a circle as you do so. Using a pinching action, squeeze the dough between your thumb and fingers to help incorporate the salt. Fold the dough into the center again, moving around in a circle 10 to 12 times, and then turn it over in the bowl, so that the smooth side of the dough is facing upward. Cover and let the dough rest 20 minutes.

Do the stretch-and-fold action 2 more times, with a 20-minute rest between each round, making sure to turn the dough over, so that the smooth side is face up and the bowl is covered when completed. By the third round, the dough should be elastic and have a satiny shine. Cover and let rest for 20 minutes.

Remove the dough from the bowl so that you can clean it out, oiling the bowl lightly. (Alternatively, you can simply move the dough into a lightly oiled plastic container that might fit better in your refrigerator. Make sure the container will allow enough room for the dough to double in size.) Let the dough rest for a half hour, then place it in the refrigerator for 12 to 24 hours.

Ideally, you want to bake your baguettes in the afternoon of the second day, so that you might have them ready for dinner.

Second Day

Put the baking stone on the middle rack of the oven. Place a rimmed baking sheet on the oven floor or lower shelf. Preheat the oven to 470˚F (245˚C) for at least 60 minutes. Lightly dust the counter with flour, so that it’s barely present. Too much flour will impede the shaping of the baguettes.

Remove the dough from the refrigerated bowl or container. It should have at least doubled in size and contain noticeable gas bubbles. Cut the dough in half. Put the remaining half back into the bowl or container and into the refrigerator. Cut the dough into two pieces (weighing about 275 grams each) and gently stretch them into rectangles 5 by 7 inches with the long edge facing you, or along an east–west axis. The dough should be slightly stiff, because it’s cool, but it will get noticeably more relaxed as it warms up.

Preshape the dough by stretching and gently folding the top (north) edge of the dough to the middle, then folding it again to the bottom (south) edge. Place the seam side down. Do this with the second loaf and then cover with a light towel and let rest for 5 to 10 minutes.

While the dough is resting, dust the parchment paper with flour. Roll up three kitchen towels tightly. Set aside. (If you have a
couche
, dust it lightly with flour.)

To shape the baguette, turn the preshaped loaf seam side up. Press and pull on the dough gently, so it’s a thick rectangular shape, with the long edge again going east–west. Fold the top (north) side of the rectangle toward the middle. Then, using the thumb of your left hand to hold the dough in place, use your right hand to fold the dough again nearly all the way to the bottom edge of the dough, so that the north edge meets the south edge. Seal the seam with your thumb or the heel of your hand. You should have a log about 1.5 to 2 inches thick and about 8 to 9 inches long. Repeat with the remaining loaf.

Very lightly dust the counter. With both hands facing palm down on the loaf, gently roll it back and forth, moving each hand out to the ends of the loaf as you go, stretching it into a 14-inch loaf or just under the size of your baking stone. Don’t worry if it’s uneven. It won’t be perfect the first time. Repeat with the second loaf.

Place each loaf on the perpared parchment paper about 5 inches apart, with the seam side down. Place one rolled-up towel underneath the paper between the loaves and one under each other edge, supporting their shape. (If using a
couche
, place the loaves
seam side up
.) Cover with a light kitchen towel and let rise for about 20 to 30 minutes. You want the dough to still spring up when you press into it, so be careful not to let the second rise go too long. If your kitchen is very warm (80˚F), the second rise can be complete in 20 minutes.

Baking

Put
¹
/
₂
cup water in a measuring cup. (I boil the water to generate a maximum amount of steam, but if you do this be careful!)

Remove the towels from under the parchment paper and carefully slide the paper with the loaves onto a cutting board or flour-dusted overturned baking sheet. Dust the top of the loaves very lightly with flour. (If you used a
couche
, carefully lift the loaves and turn them over, so the seam is down. Place them on parchment paper on the cutting board.) Use a dough scraper to gently adjust the loaves and straighten them out.

Make four or five cuts on the top of the loaf with a razor blade,
¹
/
₄
inch deep, running lengthwise with just a slight bias over the midline of the dough. A swift slash at a sharp 20-degree angle works best.

Lift the cutting board and slide the parchment paper with the baguettes onto the hot baking stone. Shut the oven door. Open the door, and carefully pour the water onto the baking sheet. Be very cautious if using boiling water. Shut the door. Do not open the oven again while baking.

Check the baguettes after 20 minutes. They should be dark brown and crusty. If pale, continue baking for another 1 to 2 minutes. Remove the loaves and let them cool on a rack for 20 minutes before eating. They are best eaten within 4 hours. If eating dinner at seven
P
.
M
., I aim to have the baguettes come out of the oven between five and six
P
.
M
., as long as it doesn’t interfere with cooking dinner.

While the baguettes are baking, form the remaining dough into loaves or leave the dough in the refrigerator for up to 24 hours and make fresh loaves the following day. They will be slightly more sour and chewy. If you are not going to eat the baguettes on the day you make them, wrap them in a plastic bag and freeze them. Let them defrost at room temperature, then crisp up the loaves in a 400˚F (205˚C) oven for about 5 minutes. Eat immediately.