A Bread A Day

Week Forty-One: German Breads

This week, I’ll be exploring the wide, wide world of German breads.  You may not think of Germany as a particularly bread-loving country, as much attention as is justly directed towards their beer and sausages, but this is a country that boasts over 1200 specific varieties of bread.

Situated directly on the line between Eastern and Western Europe, German breads draw inspiration from both directions, though they more generally resemble those of Eastern Europe.  They tend to be a very grainy lot, high in fiber, and hearty enough to match up to the two aforementioned superstars of German cuisine.  Lest you think the bread is simply there in a supporting role, let me remind you that a German word for “dinner” – abendbrot – literally translates to “evening bread”.  Now who’s supporting who?

Like much of Eastern Europe, rye is a major ingredient in bread in Germany, which brings us to today’s bread.  Arguably, there can hardly be a more famous or beloved example of rye bread than pumpernickel.  Before you cry foul and shriek, “But what about rye bread?!”, let me remind you that pumpernickel is rye.  The difference is that so-called “rye bread” is made with what is essentially white rye flour, and is therefore lighter in texture and taste.

Pumpernickel, on the other hand, is made with a coarsely-ground whole-grain rye flour (coaser even than standard whole wheat flour), which results in a heartier, far more robust bread.  The bread is so popular that the flour has taken its name from the bread, rather than the other way around, as is more typical of panary nomenclature.

There seems to be very little middle ground where pumpernickel is concerned; you either love it or hate it.  Devotées of pumpernickel tend to be a die-hard lot, and are further split into two camps: the fans of the fluffier yeast-leavened stuff, often found in delis, or the zealots who crave the more traditional Westphalian pumpernickel, that dense and chewy brick found on the dustier shelves of the “International Foods” aisle at the grocery store.  Having already made the latter, today I’m focusing on the former.

A major characteristic of the average pumpernickel bread is its dark, nearly black color.  Historically, this coloring comes from very long, slow baking that caramelizes the sugars in the flour, as in Westphalian pumpernickel.  To replicate that dusky bitterness in a yeast-leavened, faster-cooking bread, bakers often use caramel coloring (made from burnt-black sugar), cocoa, instant coffee, or a combination.  This does, of course, affect the flavor of the loaf, obscuring the flavor of the grain used.

As a side note, rye breads taste their best (for various technical reasons) when a long and slow sourdough process is used.  A faster loaf may be produced, but the flavor is never nearly as good.  And so, in the case of most commercially-produced (read: fast) pumpernickels, the obfuscation of flavor is not necessarily a bad thing.  But if you’ve taken the time to nurture your dough, giving it the time it needs to produce all those complex and gorgeous flavors, why on Earth would you subject it to the indignity of scorched caramel?

You see now why my pumpernickel is quite light in color, compared to store-bought types.  The flavors produced by the overnight starter would be done a disservice if the color were darker (though there is a touch of cocoa powder added to help deepen the color and add a little bitterness).  The overall result is quite delicious, deeper and earthier than regular rye bread, with a fantastically complex range of flavors.  It slices easily, has an even crumb, and the crust is not too hard nor too soft, making it ideal for sandwiches (as God intended).

This bread has a really excellent flavor, though I did take shortcuts with the original recipe (which took 6 days!; I don’t have that long).  I’m sure the original, as written, produces truly amazing and life-changing bread; but I dare suggest that if you’re treating your pumpernickel right, piling it with corned beef and sauerkraut from here to next week, that subtlety would be a bit lost.  This loaf has a sophisticated enough flavor to please the discriminating epicure, but remains rustic and simple enough to pair beautifully with a Beck’s.  If that’s not Deutsch, then I don’t know what is.

Pumpernickel
Adapted from The Bread Baker’s Apprentice, by Peter Reinhart
Makes 2 loaves

For starter:
5 1/4 ounces (1 cup plus 2 tablespoons) unbleached bread flour
4 1/2 ounces (1 cup) pumpernickel (dark rye) flour
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1 cup water, at room temperature

For final dough:
9 ounces (2 scant cups) unbleached bread flour
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder (see note 1 below)
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1 /4 teaspoons instant yeast
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1/2 cup water, at room temperature

1.  To make starter, whisk all ingredients together in a medium bowl.  Cover with plastic wrap, and let stand at room temperature 4 to 5 hours, or until bubbly.  Refrigerate, for up to 3 days.

2.  To make the final dough, let the starter come to room temperature for at least 1 hour before proceeding.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together the flour, sugar, cocoa, salt, and yeast.  Add all the starter, the oil, and water.  Mix at low speed for 4 to 5 minutes, or until well-combined and smooth.  The dough should be tacky, but not sticky.  If needed, add additional flour or water to achieve the proper consistency.

3.  Transfer the dough to a large lightly-oiled bowl. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let sit at room temperature for 2 hours, or until doubled in size.

4.  Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.  Turn the dough out onto a lightly-floured surface, deflating gently.  Divide into two equal halves, and shape into oblong loaves.  Transfer to the prepared baking sheet, seam-side down, and cover loosely with lightly-oiled plastic wrap.  Let sit at room temperature for 90 minutes, or until 1 1/2 times larger in size.  Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450º F.  If you have a baking stone, heat it along with the oven.

5.  Using a razor blade or sharp serrated knife, slash the loaves gently but decisively, in whatever pattern you like.  Do not press into the dough; let the weight and sharpness of the blade cut through the dough.  Spray or sprinkle the loaves with water, and transfer to the oven (on the baking stone, if using).  Bake for 2 minutes at 450º F, opening the door to quickly spray the loaves again with water every 30 seconds.  After 2 minutes, lower the temperature to 400º F.  Continue baking for 15 to 25 minutes, or until well-browned and fully baked through.  An instant-read thermometer should register about 200º F when done.  Remove to a wire rack to cool thoroughly (at least 2 to 3 hours) before slicing.

Notes:
1.  Instead of cocoa, you can use instant coffee if you prefer.

2.  This bread tastes best if you can refrain from slicing it until it has thoroughly cooled; overnight is even better.  This bread will freeze beautifully.

Week Forty: One More Time

The first time I made banh mi bread, I must have been some kind of busy.  I don’t remember exactly what I was doing, but whatever it was, it was enough to make me forget about my rising dough not once, but twice.  This is especially surprising, given my long and deeply abiding love for this particular sandwich. I must have been crazy busy.

The resultant over-fermented and over-proofed loaves were flat, dense, and generally made me cry a little.  I still made sandwiches with the bread, though, which were nevertheless quite good.  It was this sandwichy glory that my boyfriend referenced when he asked me, “Wait, you’re making banh mi again?  I thought you were only remaking failures.”  (Some men just know how to make a girl smile.)  Yes, the sandwiches were a success, but I was unsatisfied with the bread; besides, any excuse I have to make banh mi again is good enough for me.

I reduced the percentage of rice flour this time, making for a less sticky bread, and also helping increase the gluten structure for an airier crumb.  This batch also makes three baguettes, instead of the previous attempt’s two.  You won’t complain about having extra bread to make more of these sandwiches, I can assure you.

from back to front: cilantro, pickled daikon and carrot, bean sprouts, lime wedges

This second try produced loaves that browned more attractively, had a more crisp crust, and rose far better (though I made darn sure to pay attention this time around while the dough was rising).  This try was unmistakably better than the first time, and the overall taste was excellent, but I found the rice flavor a bit muted.  If you prefer a more rice-y taste, feel free to increase the proportion of rice flour to wheat flour.  I advise you not to go over one-third, though (i.e., 1 part rice flour to 2 parts wheat flour), as the gluten-free nature of rice flour will negatively affect the texture of your bread otherwise.

So, if the banh mi was so good on sub-par bread, how good was it on much-improved bread?  Though I can’t recall the exact quotes of my dinner guests (last-minute dinner guests, even!) who joined me at the banh mi table, I do recall the words “ridiculous”, “awesome”, and “oh my God” being bandied about.

Some men just know how to make a girl smile.

Banh Mi Bread, One More Time
Adapted from The Foppish Baker and Rice and Wheat
Makes 3 baguettes

18 ounces (4 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour, divided, plus extra as needed
5 ounces (1 cup) very fine rice flour
1 tablespoon instant yeast
1 tablespoon sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons salt (1 tablespoon kosher salt)
1 3/4 cups water, at room temperature
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly

1.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together 2 cups of the all-purpose flour, all of the rice flour, yeast, sugar, and salt.  Add the water and butter.  Using the paddle attachment, mix at low speed until thoroughly blended, about 1 to 2 minutes.

2.  Switch to the dough hook, and continue mixing at low speed.  Add enough of the remaining all-purpose flour until a moderately stiff dough forms; you may need more or less than the reserved 2 cup.  The dough should clear the sides of the bowl, but not be too stiff.  Increase the speed to medium-low, and continue kneading for 7 to 8 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and elastic.

3.  Transfer the dough to a large, lightly-oiled bowl.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let sit at room temperature until doubled in size, about 45 to 60 minutes.

4.  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and divide into three equal pieces.  Shape each into an round ball, then into an oblong loaf shape.  Cover again, and let rest for about 10 minutes.  Lightly grease a large baking sheet, or line with parchment paper.

5.  Working with one piece at a time, and keeping the other covered, gently press each piece into a flat oval.  Starting with a long side, roll up into a long cylinder.  Set aside, covered, while shaping the other piece.

6.  Rolling underneath flat palms, or pulling gently as needed, lengthen each piece into a long, thin rope, about 18 to 20 inches long.  Transfer carefully to the prepared baking sheet.  Cover loosely with lightly oiled plastic wrap, and let rise for 45 to 60 minutes, or until doubled in size.  Thirty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450º F, and place another baking sheet or oven-safe pan on a rack in the bottom third of the oven.  Or, if you have a baking stone, use it instead, heating it with the oven.

7.  Using a sharp serrated knife or clean razor blade, make 3 or 4 gentle but decisive slashes in the top of each loaf at a 45º angle, evenly spaced.  Don’t press into the dough, just let the weight and sharpness of the blade cut into the dough as you pull it across the surface.  If the dough deflates, let it recover for an additional 10 to 15 minutes.  Spray or sprinkle the bread with water, and transfer the bread to the oven (or baking stone, if using).  Bake for 5 minutes, spraying the dough with water every minute or two.

8.  After 5 minutes, reduce the temperature to 400º F, and continue baking for an additional 10 to 15 minutes, or until deeply golden brown and fully baked.  An instant-read thermometer should register about 205º to 210º F when inserted into the center.  Remove the bread to a wire rack to cool fully before slicing.

Banh Mi (Vietnamese Pork Sandwiches)
Makes 3 to 4 sandwiches

1 loaf banh mi bread, recipe above
Banh mi-onnaise, recipe below
Pickled carrots and daikon radish, recipe below
8 ounces pork loin, cooked and sliced
4 to 6 ounces pork liver pâté, sliced
Bean sprouts, about 1 cup
1 jalapeño, sliced thinly
Cilantro leaves, to taste
Salt and black pepper, to taste
Extra fish sauce and Sriracha, to taste
Lime wedges, for squeezing

1.  Slice the loaf of bread in half horizontally.  Toast briefly under a hot broiler until lightly crispy.

2.  Spread both cut sides of the bread with banh mi-onnaise.  Top bottom half with (in order) slices of pork loin, slices of pâté, pickled carrot and daikon, bean sprouts, jalapeño, and cilantro.  Add salt, pepper, sriracha, fish sauce, and lime juice to taste.  Top with other half of bread, cut into 3 or 4 pieces, and serve.

Banh Mi-onnaise
Makes about 1/4 cup

4 tablespoons mayonnaise
1/2 teaspoon fish sauce
1/2 teaspoon Sriracha
1/4 teaspoon soy sauce

1.  Mix all ingredients together until smooth.  Refrigerate until needed.

Pickled Carrots and Daikon Radish
Adapted from Viet World Kitchen
Makes about 2 cups

For the brine:
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/4 cups distilled white vinegar
1 cup water
1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
1 bay leaf

For the vegetables:
1 large carrot, peeled and cut into thin matchsticks
1/2 pound daikon radish, each no larger than 2 inches in diameter, peeled and cut into thin matchsticks
2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt

1.  Combine all the brine ingredients in a pan over medium-high heat.  Heat, stirring, until all the sugar is dissolved.  Remove from heat, and let steep while preparing the vegetables.

2.  Place the cut carrot and daikon in a non-reactive bowl, and sprinkle with the salt and sugar.  Using your hands, squeeze and knead the vegetables for about 3 minutes.  They will release liquid and begin to soften.  Stop kneading when you can bend a piece of daikon so that the ends touch, but does not break.  Drain and rinse the vegetables with cold water in a colander.  Gently squeeze excess liquid off.

3.  Return the vegetables to the bowl, or place in a clean jar for longer storage.  Pour the brine over the vegetables.  The brine should totally cover the vegetables; if not, add extra water until covered.  Place a piece of parchment paper on the surface of the brine to keep the vegetables moistened, and cover with plastic wrap, or a lid.

4.  Let the vegetables sit for at least 1 hour before eating.  If eating immediately, the curing action will happen faster at room temperature.  If eating within a day or two, they should be refrigerated.  They will keep, refrigerated, for up to 4 weeks.

Notes:
1.  For the bread dough, be sure to use the finest-milled rice flour you can find.  Bob’s Red Mill is a good and widely-avaliable choice; Arrowhead Mills is a bit coarser.  Any Asian market should have at least one option.

2.  It’s not necessary to use the pickled vegetables, and the banh mi-onnaise can just as well be switched for regular mayonnaise.  But they do lend a bit of authenticity to the flavor; proceed at your discretion.

Week Forty: One More Time

Jim Lahey’s no-knead method is so amazingly simple that it’s quite tempting to fiddle with it, making substitutions here and there, pushing the limits.  One of the more obvious changes is to swap the white flour for whole wheat.  It’s more nutritious, just as easy, and surely there can’t be that much difference, can there?   How hard could it be?

Plenty hard, as I found out.  Merely changing the flour to whole wheat resulted in a gray, flat loaf, with a gummy texture that tasted vaguely like despair.  So, to remedy that failure, I borrowed a few tricks from the best no-knead variation I made, Cook’s Illustrated’s almost no-knead bread, plus one from King Arthur Flour’s whole wheat sandwich bread.  I was unwilling to add any white flour back in, as I still wanted a 100% whole wheat bread, though that certainly would’ve helped things quite a lot.

For this attempt, I used half beer and half water for the liquid, similar to almost no-knead bread.  As suggested by the King Arthur recipe, I added a splash of orange juice, not for flavor, but to offset the bitterness that some whole wheat flours have.  This also provided a little acid, so I didn’t feel it necessary to add any vinegar, as the Cook’s Illustrated recipe does to improve the flavor.  I kept the method the same as the original no-knead bread, for consistency.

The result was absolutely improved.  That unappealing gray color was gone, replaced by a proper autumn-leaf brown.  The crumb was beautifully open, and the domed top spoke volumes about the far better oven-spring.  Flavor-wise, this bread was the clear winner between it and its predecessor.  The crust was appropriately thick, and the interior was tender.

However, this still isn’t the ultimate 100% whole wheat no-knead bread.  While the flavor was good, the texture was a bit coarse, lending a dryness to each bite.  The modifications I made to the recipe made worlds of difference, but it’s not quite there yet.  This whole wheat bread is good, and will certainly fit the bill if you must have a whole wheat no-knead bread, but there are finer whole-grain examples that take a shorter amount of time.

100% Whole Wheat No-Knead Bread, One More Time
Adapted from Jim Lahey, via The New York Times
Makes 1 round loaf

13½ ounces (3 cups) whole wheat flour, plus extra for dusting
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1½ teaspoons salt
3/4 cup water
3/4 cup light-flavored beer
2 tablespoons orange juice

1.  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, yeast, and salt.  Add the water, beer, and orange juice, and stir until blended; the dough will be shaggy and sticky.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let dough sit at room temperature for at least 12 and up to 24 hours (but preferably about 18).

2.  The dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles.  Line a 10 inch skillet or any wide, shallow bowl with a large square of parchment paper.  Turn the dough out onto a well-floured work surface; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself a few times, until it forms a roughly round shape.  A bench scraper helps greatly with this step.

3.  Transfer the dough to the parchment-lined skillet, and dust heavily with wheat bran or additional flour.  Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise until doubled in size, about 2 hours.  When it is ready, the dough will not readily spring back when poked gently with a fingertip.

4.  At least 30 minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 500º F.  Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (see note 1 below) in oven as it heats.  When the dough is ready, carefully remove the pot from the oven.  Transfer the dough to the pot by lifting the parchment by the edges, and carefully and quickly lowering the dough into the pot.  Shake the pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed, but don’t worry about it too much; it will straighten out as it bakes.

5.  Cover the pot with the lid and transfer the pot to the oven.  Reduce the oven temperature to 425º F, and bake for 30 minutes.  Remove the lid and bake uncovered for an additional 15 to 30 minutes, or until the loaf is well-browned.  An instant-read thermometer should register around 205º to 210º F when fully baked.  Transfer to a wire rack to cool thoroughly, discarding the parchment.

Notes:
1.  Any heavy covered pot will do, be it cast iron, enamel, Pyrex, stainless steel, or ceramic.  As long as it’s oven-safe, it seems anything will do the trick.  If your chosen vessel has no lid, or if you’re concerned about the oven-safety of it, simply use aluminum foil instead, pressing it tightly (and carefully) around the preheated pot.

2.  My liquids (water, beer, and orange juice) were cold when I added them.  I’m not sure if that makes a whole lot of difference or not; proceed at your own discretion.

Week Thirty-Nine: No-Knead Bread Week

This last no-knead variation takes yesterday’s adaptation one step further: instead of simply adding different grains to subtly change the flavor, this version adds such generous amounts of parmesan and kalamata olives that the word “subtle” becomes truly ludicrous.

The one caveat here, of course, is to make sure you use both cheese and olive of good quality; if you do, you will be rewarded with a loaf vibrant with rich flavors.  Scrimp here, using that cardboard powder in the green-topped shaker or those poor black rings that emerge limp and pathetic from their can, and you’ll have insulted the very flour by suggesting it associate with such riff-raff.

Lest you hear this description and think you’ll be spending more to make this one loaf of bread than you might on a reasonably-priced bottle of wine, let me reassure you that there are some very fine and inexpensive options here.  While true Parmigiano-Reggiano would be exquisite in this application, the nuances of its delicate flavor would be a bit lost in baking; and besides, it often runs near $18 to $20 per pound.  I suggest reserving this for  grating over pasta, and seeking out something more like the nutty and buttery Argentine parmesan that my cheesemonger proffered, which cost less than half as much.

Keep in mind also that this bread, while quite delicious when made as the recipe is written, tends toward the indulgent, and no real harm could come from reducing the measure of cheese to fit the budget.  Better that than opting for an inferior cheese, I say.  And, of course, good-quality olives may be bought in bulk at many grocery stores these days, at a reasonable price.  You might even prefer the more concentrated taste of oil-cured olives, which taste like good olives turned up to eleven (meaning you can use fewer for just as much flavor punch).

This loaf ends up with a delightfully open crumb, especially considering the heft of the olives and cheese that could both weigh the bread down and make it more leaden.  The no-knead method, namely that long and gentle rise, gives the dough enough muscle to lift the added bulk with nonchalance.  The crust is not too thick and leathery, nor too thin and unable to stand up to the olives.  You’ll know that the parmesan is there not by sight, as the cheese melts invisibly into the structure of the bread, but by its unmistakable smell and taste.  A hint of whole wheat flour adds a little rustic texture to the crumb, which helps the texture better match the additions of cheese and olive.  Overall, this is a potent bread, and a great example of the no-knead method.

I hope you all have enjoyed this no-knead week as much as I have; it’s been nice to not have to clean my mixer every day.

Olive Parmesan No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Breadtopia
Makes 1 round loaf

13 ounces (2 3/4 cups) unbleached bread flour
3 ounces (2/3 cup) whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 tsp. instant yeast
7 ounces grated fresh parmesan cheese
4 ounces (about 2/3 cup) pitted kalamata olives, cut lengthwise into quarters
1 3/4 cup water, at room temperature

1.  In a large bowl, whisk together the flours, yeast, and salt.  Grate in the cheese, and toss to combine.  Add the olives and water, and stir until blended; the dough will be shaggy and sticky.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let dough sit at room temperature for at least 12 and up to 24 hours (but preferably about 18).

2.  The dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles.  Line a 10 inch skillet or any wide, shallow bowl with a large square of parchment paper.  Turn the dough out onto a well-floured work surface; sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself a few times, until it forms a roughly round shape.  A bench scraper helps greatly with this step.

3.  Transfer the dough to the parchment-lined skillet, and dust heavily with additional flour (or wheat bran, if you like).  Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise until doubled in size, about 2 hours.  When it is ready, the dough will not readily spring back when poked gently with a fingertip.

4.  At least 30 minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 500º F.  Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (see note 1 below) in oven as it heats, on a rack set to the lowest position.  When the dough is ready, carefully remove the pot from the oven.  Transfer the dough to the pot by lifting the parchment by the edges, and carefully and quickly lowering the dough into the pot.  Shake the pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed, but don’t worry about it too much; it will straighten out as it bakes.

5.  Cover the pot with the lid, and bake at 500º F for 30 minutes.  Reduce the temperature to 425º F, remove the lid, and bake uncovered for an additional 15 to 30 minutes, or until the loaf is well-browned.  An instant-read thermometer should register around 205º to 210º F when fully baked.  Transfer to a wire rack to cool thoroughly, discarding the parchment.

Notes:
1.  Any heavy covered pot will do, be it cast iron, enamel, Pyrex, stainless steel, or ceramic.  As long as it’s oven-safe, it seems anything will do the trick.  If your chosen vessel has no lid, or if you’re concerned about the oven-safety of it, simply use aluminum foil instead, pressing it tightly (and carefully) around the preheated pot.

2.  Be sure to use a good-quality parmesan cheese, as the flavor really shines here.

Week Thirty-Nine: No-Knead Bread Week

I do attract an astute crowd, don’t I?  A couple of sharp-minded readers totally predicted today’s recipe without even knowing it, in helpful response to the whole wheat no-knead bread fiasco.  For anyone who hasn’t tried it, this no-knead variation from Cook’s Illustrated is perhaps one of the most successful versions floating around; no wonder it came to their minds!

As someone who implicitly trusts Cook’s Illustrated (well, the old Cook’s Illustrated, anyway), I had to try this when I first saw it lo these many moons ago.  I remember being impressed then, and it did not disappoint this time either.  Addressing the two main complaints with the original no-knead bread, the too-thick crust and the mysterious lack of flavor, the wizards at Cook’s Illustrated tweaked the recipe a few ways.

First, they increased the oven preheating temperature, then reduce it as the loaf is put in the oven.  This initial blast of heat makes the crust set faster, and it therefore becomes thinner and more crisp than thick and chewy.  Second, to improve the flavor, they added a touch of vinegar and swapped some of the water for beer.  The vinegar, as you may recall from yesterday’s post, helps mimic the taste of a properly long-risen sourdough.  As for the beer, I previously deducedin a week of beer bread experiments that the malt in beer is extremely useful for flavor improvement.  (And it doesn’t hurt things that you’re now faced with the dilemma of disposing with the remaining 8 ounces of beer, either.)

Lastly, to improve upon the original no-knead bread, Cook’s Illustrated does the unthinkable: they knead the dough.  A bit!  Only just a bit!  (Hence the name.)  The kneading — obviously to anyone familiar with bread-making — develops the gluten.  In this particular case, it’s kneaded just barely enough to develop the gluten a tiny bit, and then time and natural fermentation processes take over.  This creates a more stable gluten network than is achieved without kneading; it isn’t kneaded to the point that the gluten becomes over-developed over the long rise, which would result in a tough and/or dense loaf.

The flavor of this almost no-knead bread is top notch, much improved over the original no-knead bread.  Though it’s not the most mind-blowing bread to ever grace my oven, it’s certainly quite good, and one I’d be proud to serve to guests.  (And at this point, I have a [bready] reputation to uphold.)  But then, Cook’s Illustrated didn’t set out to make the be-all, end-all of breads; they set out to enhance no-knead bread, and enhance it they have.

It’s hardly any more effort (is opening a beer effort?) than the original, and the results speak for themselves: complex, airy, crisp-crusted, gorgeously browned, crackling happily at you from the cooling rack….  This one has it all.  Give this variation a shot; I doubt you’ll look back.

Almost No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated
Makes 1 large round

14 ounces (3 cups) unbleached bread flour
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1½ teaspoons table salt
3/4 cup (6 ounces) water, at room temperature
1/2 cup (4 ounces) mild-flavored beer
1 tablespoon white vinegar

1.  In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, yeast, and salt.  Add the water, beer, and vinegar, and stir until blended; the dough will be shaggy and sticky.  Cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let dough sit at room temperature for at least 8 and up to 18 hours, or until very risen and bubbly.

2.  Line a 10 inch skillet or any wide, shallow bowl with a large square of parchment paper.  Turn the dough out onto a floured work surface; sprinkle it with a little more flour and knead or fold it over on itself about 10 to 15 times, until it forms a roughly round shape.  A bench scraper may help with this step.

3.  Transfer the dough to the parchment-lined skillet, and dust heavily with wheat bran or additional flour.  Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise until doubled in size, about 2 hours.  When it is ready, the dough will not readily spring back when poked gently with a fingertip.

4.  At least 30 minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 500º F.  Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (see note 1 below) in oven as it heats, on a rack set to the lowest position.  When the dough is ready, carefully remove the pot from the oven.  Transfer the dough to the pot by lifting the parchment by the edges, and carefully and quickly lowering the dough into the pot.  Shake the pan once or twice if dough is unevenly distributed, but don’t worry about it too much; it will straighten out as it bakes.

5.  Cover the pot with the lid, place in the oven, and reduce the temperature to 425º F.  Bake covered for 30 minutes.  Remove the lid and bake uncovered for an additional 15 to 30 minutes, or until the loaf is well-browned.  An instant-read thermometer should register around 205º to 210º F when fully baked.  Transfer to a wire rack to cool thoroughly, discarding the parchment.

Notes:
1.  Any heavy covered pot will do, be it cast iron, enamel, Pyrex, stainless steel, or ceramic.  As long as it’s oven-safe, it seems anything will do the trick.  If your chosen vessel has no lid, or if you’re concerned about the oven-safety of it, simply use aluminum foil instead, pressing it tightly (and carefully) around the preheated pot.

PS – Happy National Punctuation Day to all my favorite punctuation marks!  I used as many as I could get away with today.  In honor of the day, here is an “appropriate” blog to “read”.