Tartine Bread: Sourdough Brioche

When you are crazy for sourdough and obsessed with brioche, it’s a given that eventually, a sourdough brioche must be made.

At least, it was a given for me. My husband told me my “love of all things sourdough” was being taken too far when I interrupted his reading to tell him of my great plans.  I informed him that commercial yeast is, in the timeline of bread making, a recent innovation that is predated by brioche.  As a good lawyer, I bolstered my thesis with the facts, noting that the most accurate translation of Marie Antoinette’s infamous comment was, “let them eat brioche.” (Yes, people, this is my takeaway lesson for you from the French Revolution). He made a face, so I ignored him.

The recipe I used was Chad Robertson’s recipe from Tartine Bread, a great book I’ve talked about before. In direct contrast to most of that volume’s recipes, which don’t even need to kneaded, this one absolutely requires a stand mixer–how else could you smoothly incorporate a full pound of butter?

Besides the astounding quantities of butter and the use of nearly a dozen eggs, this recipe requires both a sourdough starter and a poolish (a mixture of flour, water, and a pinch of instant yeast that is allowed to ferment overnight and develop extra flavor). It’s a lot of bowls, but by no means difficult.  It all comes together in a stand mixer, with the butter beaten in at the end.  The dough is wet, sticky, glistening and almost taffy-like in appearance. Funnily enough, for a dough that weighs a full six pounds, it hardly seemed to tax my mixer at all (much to my relief)–presumably because it is indeed such a soft, pliant dough.

The dough is folded down a few times during bulk fermentation, but because it uses both instant yeast and wild yeast, it had no trouble kicking back and making itself comfortable in my oversize, 6-quart bread rising bucket. (Finally–I feel like that purchase was justified). The use of instant yeast is also what makes the dough hold up well for freezing for a later use.  And thankfully so:  it’s  a relief you don’t have to bake six loaves of brioche all at once.

Four pounds are in the freezer, and the remaining two pounds made their way into my brioche molds, where formed into the traditional shape, they happily continued to grow.  My loaves baked up wonderfully, though I’m afraid that they did brown a bit more than I would have liked.  Although–this may not have been an error on my part; Robertson explains that at he and his wife’s bakery, they intentionally brown their goods more than the typical bakeshop.   (I think these might have turned out more nicely if I had remembered the egg wash at the end as well.  But after cracking open 10 eggs, I must have subconsciously decided that enough was enough).

Verdict? I love having extra dough in the freezer, asking merely to be defrosted and shaped.  I love the luxury of this recipe, full of so many possibilties:  though I’d never tire of an honest, simple brioche, the kugelhopf variation is tempting me.  And I love using both sourdough and poolish, giving the dough depth of flavor and extended shelf life.

But most importantly I love eating it smeared with jam. And my husband does too–and though he’s may not be willing to say as much, the several slices that he enjoyed were admission enough.

I hate to be a downer and not give you any recipe, but I’d have to suggest having a look at the book–the instructions are so detailed and each step so lovingly photographed I’d hardly do it justice.  I’d even say that it’s well worth a slot on your Christmas wish list.

And…if you are at all interested in sourdough bread baking (and you should be), make sure you help celebrate “Doughvember” hosted by Pinch My Salt and Salty Seattle.  It’s new and unusual uses of sourdough that are precisely the focus, and this could be just the tip of the iceberg.  I’m making this bread in the spirit of stretching my sourdough skills, and am looking forward to seeing what else everyone creates.

Update:  I just noticed that I did not mask well in my first photo the fact that my son took a little nibble out of the brioche.  Helpers in the kitchen sometimes extract their price, I guess.

—by Sara

This post is submitted to Yeastspotting, hosted this week by one of my favorite blogs, the Tartine Bread Experiment –Yes, that Tartine:  how serendipitous!

Middle Class Brioche (story of an obsession)

Peter Reinhart recipe again.  While I think this is my favorite brioche recipe (I have tried a wide number of these, I am a bit obsessed with brioche), it’s not just the recipe itself but the actual titles–Reinhart has three versions, Rich Man, Poor Man, and Middle Class.  It’s all about the butter and egg content.  The Rich Man’s brioche evidently boasts the same fat to flour ratio as pie crust dough–the only difference is the yeast!  I know my station and have stuck with middle class brioche, which has been plenty decadent for me.  (Poor Man’s brioche is apparently best for working with to wrap foods en croute, such as that brioche baked brie that was so popular by the university caterers when I was in college, though not particularly beloved by me).

This brioche can be made in one day or split into two (allowing the first rise to occur overnight in the refrigerator); the latter being my preferred method.  I can’t tell you if there’s that much difference in taste, but it just seems easier to fit into your schedule that way.

The first step is to make a sponge.  It’s basically a pre-ferment, with a bit of flour, liquid and yeast to develop flavor.  In the case of brioche, as it is a richer dough, you make the sponge with milk rather than water.  This takes up to an hour.

Then you mix in eggs.  I used our CSA eggs which have that gorgeous orangey hue:

Then you beat in the softened butter and flour.  You can do this by hand but, like the ciabatta, it’s a bit harder on the arms than regular kneading.  This time, unlike the ciabatta, I did not hesitate to pull out my lovely kitchenaid stand mixer.  And it worked like a charm.

You then spread the dough into a wide pan overnight to rise;

then get it first thing in the morning so you can get started on the next step (OK; that may not be essential, but the earlier you get going, the earlier you’re eating brioche!).  Here I’ve started dividing the dough into the main bulk of each of two loafs, plus the smaller cone that is inserted into the center of the larger loaf.

Did I say I’m kind of obsessed with brioche?  You don’t have to use brioche tins, but they are more fun:

After shaping the loafs, you leave them for their final rise:

And wait for them to grow into their molds.  It does take a bit longer than “regular” dough (2 1/2 – 3 hours for these large loaves); I imagine it’s all the fat in the dough weighing it down.  (Something to think about as you eat it perhaps?)

 

Once you bake them, let them cool and enjoy!

 

I suppose you can put more butter on this but I never do.  I do love to toast it (it’s almost as if the butter inside melts within, and you have bread buttered from the inside out) and smear it with raspberry preserves.  Or just eat it.

We all decided this was my best batch of brioche yet.  I can only imagine (1) using the farm fresh marigold colored eggs and (2) using whole milk had something to do with it.  (We used to not have whole milk in the house; now with a toddler we buy it by the gallon!).  Some other points to add about brioche is I find that instant yeast works best.  I’ve tried fresh yeast and active dry yeast as well, but they don’t seem to have enough oomph to get the dough to rise overnight in the refridgerator.  In particular, with brioche, it seems to me the extra power of instant yeast helps.  Back to my theory that all that fat is weighing down the dough, I guess.

Whatever it is, the finished bread is anything but heavy:  rather, wonderfully light yet rich.  Is it any wonder I’m slightly obsessed?