Dark Pumpernickel Bread with Raisins

This bread, Dark Pumpernickel Bread with Raisins, from Dan Leader’s Bread Alone, was a lot of fun to make.  However, it takes a LONG time–two ferments rather than one (that’s three rises) and 1 1/2 hours in the oven. 

I halved the recipe (and Lord knows how I would have kneaded all that dough if I hadn’t) and as the rye starter I maintain (from Dan Leader’s Local Breads) seems to be different from the Bread Alone book in composition (and since my starter is drastically smaller in amount than required for this recipe), I built the necessary proportions using the rye sourdough elaboration from the Local Breads recipe for Whole Rye Berry Loaf.  (I added about 5oz of water rather than the 4 oz called for in the pre-ferment as the Bread Alone sourdough seemed wetter).   I meant to only add 9oz of the final starter but ended up adding the full amount which was nearer to 11 oz.  This turned out not to be a problem, as far as I could tell. 

The recipe gives a wide range of flours, I stayed within the lower end of this range.  This seemed to work out well.  The only problem was that I think my oven got too hot over the long baking period, so as is obvious, the crust was burnt.  The inside is just fine, and I was thrilled by the dramatic oven spring.  Plus it’s the first pumpernickel I’ve made that was truly dark (which is what I think of for pumpernickel).  It was quite sweet from the molasses and raisins, and deliciously moist:  I was happy to eat it plain.  I put half in the freezer as this is one massive loaf (and I only made a half batch!  Unbelievable.  I’ll have to keep this in mind when making more out of Bread Alone–Leader is clearly baking for a crowd!)

Final question:  if anyone uses both of these books, do you know if the starters are interchangeable, as they seem to be different formulas to me?  If you use a local bread starter, how do you convert to the Bread Alone starter (not only in the hydration proportions but in the quantities required!?)

BBA Challenge #37: Swedish Rye (Limpa)

I’ve been excited about Swedish Rye (Limpa), the next BBA Challenge bread, since well before the challenge, so it’s about time I made it.  I imagine this might be the first time many fellow BBA bakers have heard of Limpa, let alone made it or eaten it, but I first had it a while ago in Chicago, where I purchased a whole loaf on a visit to the old Swedish part of town.  (Yes, that’s what I did in Chicago, I bought a loaf of bread and Swedish licorice.  Over 10 years ago, but less than 20…and that’s all I will admit to).  And I remember loving it.  In fact when I first bought the BBA, I was disappointed that this recipe required a sourdough starter, thinking “I’ll never do that…”  (Fast forward to find a stiff levain, a liquid levain, and a rye sourdough starter currently inhabiting my fridge.  Fast forward to my husband looking for the yogurt sauce I made for our eggplant salad, throwing up his hands:  “I keep thinking I’ve found it, but no, it’s just more sourdough!”

I know reviews have been mixed with certain other BBA Challenge participants:  Phyl and Anne Marie  are fans, Andrea not so much, and Daniel’s oven sabotaged his efforts.    In part, itt’s probably a matter of whether or not you like the flavors of fennel or anise (which I do, though i hate black licorice candy–who knows?)  I didn’t realize that fennel and anise were different spices until making this dough, and not having anise I just left it out.  (Here I am, thinking back on many other recipes I’ve made with “anise” aka fennel–oops!).  I like fennel, but more importantly, this had cardamom, one of my all-time favorite flavors.  Throw in the citrus essence, bring to a boil and steep, and enjoy the warm, aromatic scent that pervades your kitchen!  This mix of flavors is then mixed with your sourdough starter and molasses to create your pre-ferment:  definitely a most unusual beginning for a bread. 

I was nervous whether my pre-ferment was truly ready (the instructions say it should be frothy, you can judge for yourself from my photo below if I achieved that) and as always I was uncertain as to whether or not I had kneaded properly given the presence of that tricky flour, rye.  But I think I somehow got it right:  I got a great oven spring, a beautifully shaped loaf, and a delicious, unique bread.  For me it’s definitely worth making again, though I wish I could think of more uses for it:  that very uniqueness makes it a little less versatile (not that I have problems eating bread straight, mind you).  Anyone know a good Swedish holiday to celebrate?

Dan Leader’s Silesian Dark Rye

I continue to bake from Local Breads, excited to use the rye sourdough starter I raised from scratch, and in an attempt to incorporate more whole grains into my diet.

This has a stronger rye flavor than my Czech Light Rye, but is delicious in its own way.  Besides sandwiches, I found that the lingonberry jam I bought on my last trip to Ikea went wonderfully with toasted slices of this bread for breakfast.  The tart flavor of lingonberry stands up to the assertive taste of this bread.

I was also thrilled with the oven spring I got on this loaf.  I am apparently not slashing deep enough–once again (like my Czech Rye) the steam found its own way to escape during the baking process, and not along the route I prepared for it with slashing.  I’m convinced that my scoring has been too shallow for years, but it never showed up because I wasn’t properly developing the gluten.  Now that I am pretty consistently getting “windowpane” in my machine (i.e., kneading to sufficiently develop the dough and the gluten within), getting the scoring right matters.  It’s a nice realization to make, as it means my breads are getting better. 

Modern Baker Challenge: Pain de Seigle

I have to say that I was not that big of a fan of one of my “assigned” Modern Baker Challenge breads, Pain de Seigle.  And before you guess at the reason, it’s not because I don’t like rye.  I think that the problem was I got into making my sourdough ryes around the same time and this just wasn’t as tasty.  Am I turning into a sourdough snob?  Who knows.  The bread was OK on day one, but remained untouched for a few days at which point it was turned into bread crumbs.  That’s the good thing about breads that don’t turn out well–they can still be useful in some other way–and will taste a heckuva lot better than the store bought variety.  (I keep my crumbs in the freezer, and have learned that you’d better not let the bread get too stale or you’ll never get your crumbs ground down properly.  Despite advice telling you to use stale bread.  I’d say, bread just beginning to go stale, if you want nice uniform crumbs).

I even tried this bread twice and neither time was too impressed.  C’est la vie.  Andrea and Phyl enjoyed theirs so you can check out their posts to get a balanced take on this bread.  In the meantime, I’m going to continue to be distracted by Dan Leader’s Local Breads!

Maple Danish from Good to the Grain

I always think of rye as a straightforward, nose-to-the-grindstone type of flavor.  It’s those dense, unmistakably flavored rye breads and their unassailable association with peasant, country food.  Contrast this with the light and airy, sweet flavors you can achieve with white wheat flour.

But delicate pastries need not be made just with refined wheat flour, which is the central thesis of Good to the Grain by Kim Boyce (thanks Karen for the birthday gift!)  As a former pastry chef, the author set forth to make whole grain pastries that would be appetizing to people who weren’t even looking to eat less refined flours.  (Granted, we’re still talking pastries and such here, so there’s ample butter, eggs, and sugar.  But still).  As proof of this, I made the whole wheat chocolate chip cookies and presented them to my husband as “just some chocolate chip cookies” and he loved them–we all did.  (Check out the recipe here).

I love maple and was intrigued by the maple danishes in the chapter on rye flour.  This recipe is similar to a puff pastry dough and I bet could be made using Malgieri’s method, though I like having Kim Boyce’s low-tech shortcut here too.

There’s a fair amount of rolling involved here, but as Boyce says, if you just pay attention and follow the recipe it’s not all that hard.  And the results are worth it!  The maple softens the strong assertive flavor of rye, the butter ensures these danishes are light, flaky, moist, and smooth.  The overall combination is utterly unique and quite irresistible! 

I made one change–more out of necessity than anything else–I realized only after starting that I had no maple sugar, so I mixed maple syrup together with the brown sugar for the filling.  I had my proportions all wrong so things were rather liquidy.  As I rolled up my pastries a maple syrup-brown sugar ooze was getting everywhere.  I just gathered this extra up as much as I could and poured it over the shaped danishes as a “glaze”–worked pretty well.  Next time I’ll spring for the maple sugar; or maybe date sugar which is supposed to be a good (and less costly) substitute.

Now some pictures from the process, and a recipe.

Rolling out the dough

Dividing in half

Shaped rolls, set to rise

Risen danishes, ready for the oven

Cooling, delicious and flaky.

Maple Danish

dry mix:

  • 1c rye flour
  • 2c all-purpose flour
  • 1/4c sugar
  • 1 1/2t kosher salt
  • 6 oz (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, frozen

wet mix:

  • 1 package plus 1t active dry yeast
  • 3/4c whole milk warmed to 100F
  • 1 egg

filling:

  • 3T softened butter
  • 1/4c maple sugar (I substituted 1/2c maple syrup as maple syrup is half as sweet)
  • 2T dark brown sugar

–Sift the dry ingredients together into a large bowl, pouring back any bits of grain that remain in the sifter.  Using the large holes on a box grater, grate the frozen butter into the dry mixture as quickly as possible.  Briefly stir together with your hands and chill while you continue with the recipe.

–Mix the yeast and milk and allow to sit for 5 minutes until the yeast blooms.  Thoroughly whisk the egg and mix into the milk mixture.  Stir this mixture into the dry mixture; it will be somewhat dry.  Refrigerate overnight.

–The next day, remove the dough from the fridge and flour the surface.  pat into a rectangle and roll into a rectangle about 9 x 15 inches.  Keep the longer side parallel to your body.

–Fold the rectangle into thirds, like folding a letter (a “turn”).  Roll out again, and repeat twice more for a total of three turns.  The dough will soften and smooth out.

–Cut the dough in half and roll each piece into a 12 X 8 inch rectangle.  Rub the softened butter over the rectangles and sprinkle (pour) on the filling. 

–Roll up the dough, starting at the shorter edge.  Cut each log into 6 even slices and set to rise on buttered baking sheets, 6-8 rolls per sheet (I used parchment paper).

–Cover with plastic and allow to rise for 2 hours.  They will not double in size but will swell.  (Note that as mine were coated in syrup, they did not need to be covered while they proofed as the syrup kept them moist).

–Bake at 425F for 15-18 minutes, or until caramelized and golden brown.  Eat as soon as possible, best warm out of the oven.

BBA Challenge #32 100% Sourdough Rye (and a question)

This BBA Challenge is getting serious.  A bread with no wheat?  A bread with no commercial yeast?  Yes, a challenge indeed.  That’s right; the 100% in the 100% sourdough rye refers to both the leavener (sourdough) and the grain (rye).  That means none of the structure created by wheat’s strong gluten, and none of the predictability of commercial yeast to inflate that gluten network.   It’s hard to say what is more intimidating, but I’ll have to go with the 100% sourdough part of the equation:  though I have managed to keep my starter alive, a small part of me is still a doubter and it’s always a leap of faith for me as to whether it’s going to rise.

Here’s the barm, looking rather insubstantial.

And here is the mixed dough mid-rise.

Looking good, right?  While I had to help things out by moving the dough to the sunroom (where it is, as you might have guessed, warmer) it did eventually rise. 

It was when I formed the batards that I worried.  Or I came out of denial and admitted to myself that there was a problem.  I actually had an inkling way back at the kneading stage.  Peter Reinhart cautions strongly against overmixing the dough when using rye–apparently it can become quite gummy if it is worked too much.  Combined with the fact that I think I am not mixing my doughs on high enough speed, my kneading here was probably not up to snuff.  While I’m guessing that lackluster kneading is more forgivable with wheat flour (due to how easy it is to form at least some gluten) I think with rye the balance is much more delicate, as its gluten is similarly delicate.  In fear of gummy bread, I almost certainly always underknead.   (Question at end; hint hint!)

When forming the batards, rather than getting any surface tension in my loaves, the dough ripped apart.  I smoothed it out, but the look of things after the second rise only further confirmed my fears–instead of rising my loaves responded to the action of the yeast by tearing raggedly apart as if brutally gashed open–no need to get out my lame, apparently.  

Having come this far, of course I baked my loaves off.  And I did find that the bread had a wonderfully earthy and complex taste.  I need more practice to be sure, but luckily being off the mark didn’t mean I had a bread brick.  Peter Reinhart’s sourdough rye is supposed to be quite dense in any case, I just don’t think quite so dense as mine turned out to be.  (Note:  my suspicion about my rye kneading problems was confirmed when I made the BBA Pumpernickel Bread, blogged here.)

One question I’ve always had is the speed my kitchenaid mixer should be set at. The instructions for my mixer say that you should never set the speed above 2 when making bread, but I’ve never achieved anything close to a windowpane being a good girl and following the manual. It seems that Reinhart means for you to knead at a higher speed (see here, just as an example).  Do other people knead at a higher speed, and if so, what?  Have you had problems with your motor as a result, or do you just watch to make sure it doesn’t overheat?   As you can tell, I baby my kitchenaid stand mixer a bit.  Hey, it’s not cheap.