Making Bread, Part A

With the coming of spring and warmer weather, I tend to naturally start cooking lighter meals. More bbq'ing and salads, less lasagna and roasts. Tragically, I've also been baking a lot less bread. When a family gets used to having homemade bread, the lack of it is pretty torturous, and I've been taking quite a bit of heat from my tribe wondering where all the good bread has gone. I have a firm belief that if anyone wants to start living more simply and cooking from scratch, learning to bake bread is a natural first step. It will convert even the most avid critic. Sure it is more work than buying a loaf at the store, but just like a garden fresh tomato, the taste of homemade bread is so superior, you can't even lump the two into the same category. I have a psychological reaction to bread making too. It makes me feel like a pioneer woman-capable and industrious. All that kneading, working with elemental ingredients like yeast and flour and salt and transforming them into something utterly tasty and filling. And the smell of the yeasty bread baking in the oven triggers in me some deep seeded feeling of well being. It makes me feel like my home is comfortable and safe.

Bread making is surprisingly simple. Really! And once I had the basics down and my confidence up, I've found that I'm not afraid to try-and add- all different kinds of breads to my repertoire. Basic whole wheat loaves are the standard around here, but I also make a lot of pizza crust and some artisan style loaves. This weekend we made falafel and we had delicious home made pitas from a recipe in the Bread Bible. These pitas are so good and so easy, fluffy and delicious, I have to share the recipe with you! The only piece of special equipment they require is a pizza stone, which is a worthy investment since it is also the key to great homemade pizza crust, which will be PART B of making bread in a post later this week.

Pita Bread

3 cups plus 1/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons salt

2 teaspoons instant yeast

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 1/4 cups water, at room temperature

1. Mix the dough. In a large bowl, combine all the ingredients except for the 1/4 cup of the flour. With a wooden spoon or your hand, mix until all the flour is moistened. Knead the dough in the bowl until it comes together.. Sprinkle a little of the reserved 1/4 c flour onto the counter and scrape the dough onto it. Knead the dough for 5 to 10 minutes or until it is soft and smooth and just a little sticky to the touch. Add a little flour or water if necessary. If it is too sticky to work with you can always invert a bowl over the dough and let it rest for 10 minutes and then start kneading again.

2. Let the dough rise: Using an oiled spatula or dough scraper, scrape the dough into a bowl, lightly greased with cooking spray or oil. Press the dough down and lightly spray or oil the top of it. Cover the container with a lid or plastic wrap. At this point, you can put the dough in the fridge and either use it anytime within 3 days or just let it chill for a few hours so it will be easier to work with when you are ready to use.

3. Preheat the oven: Preheat the oven to 475°F one hour before baking. Have an oven shelf at the lowest level and place a baking stone on it to get ultra hot during this preheat.

4. Shape the dough: Cut the dough into 8 or 12 pieces. Work with one piece at a time and shape each piece into a ball and then flatten it into a disk. Cover the dough with oiled plastic and allow it to rest for 20 minutes at room temperature. Then roll each disk into a circle maybe a 1/4 inch thick. Allow disks to rest, uncovered, for 10 minutes before baking. They will look like puffy little ovals.

5. Bake the pita: Quickly place disks of dough (maybe 4 at a time depending on size of your baking stone) directly on the stone and bake for 3 minutes. Amazingly, the pitas puff up immediately just like a true pita! They should look puffy but not beginning to brown when you remove them from the oven. (The dough will not puff well if it is not moist enough so if necessary, spray and knead each remaining piece with water until the dough is soft and moist, then reroll and try again.) These pitas are the real deal...floury and a hair crisp on the outside with a steamy void in the middle, perfect for stuffing full of falafel or hummus or even basic sandwich fixings.

6. Go directly and make these pitas. You won't be sorry!

YUM

Sometimes very good things come in surprising packages, don't they?

I had the lovely shock recently of finding that perhaps the simplest recipe I've ever come across is also an absolute keeper. I had a big plan last week to make homemade pasta. The truth is I have a soft spot for it since it was something of an entertaining staple in my house growing up, something we did as a family when guests came over. And I do believe I even had a few birthday parties where making noodles was the main event. Cranking the floury, salty dough through the Atlas pasta machine was a fun, exciting thing to me at eleven, and it turns out it still is! Jaren and I bought our own shiny metal Atlas machine years ago, but we haven't busted it out a single time since we became parents. I thought the kids would get a kick out of watching their pasta noodles "born", but like so many of my expectations about what my kids will think is fun, they were absolutely indifferent to the pasta making process and were just ready to eat.

Lucky for us, the best part of the night was the secret tomato sauce recipe I had read about on Smitten Kitchen awhile back. The simple trio of ingredients (peeled tomatoes, butter, and onion) had made me avoid jumping to make it because it just sounded too simple to be very good. But since I really trust Smitten Kitchen on these matters, I figured it was worth a go. Its been a week and I've wanted to make the sauce pretty much every day since. YUM! The sauce is delicate and subtle and seriously good. I would recommend you make it with the high quality San Marzano canned tomatoes, though, since the tomato flavor is the main event. I can't say it is the most amazing thing you'll ever eat but I can say that the flavor in its simplicity will refresh you and get under your skin. And let's not forget that this puppy costs next to nothing to make and is ready in 45 minutes with minimal stirring required. Like I said, keeper!

Tomato Sauce with Butter and Onions

Adapted from Marcela Hazan’s Essentials of Italian Cooking

Serves 4

28 ounces (800 grams) whole peeled tomatoes from a can (San Marzano, if you can find them)*
5 tablespoons (70 grams) unsalted butter
1 medium-sized yellow onion, peeled and halved
Salt to taste

Put the tomatoes, onion and butter in a heavy saucepan (it fit just right in a 3-quart) over medium heat. Bring the sauce to a simmer then lower the heat to keep the sauce at a slow, steady simmer for about 45 minutes, or until droplets of fat float free of the tomatoes. Stir occasionally, crushing the tomatoes against the side of the pot with a wooden spoon. Remove from heat, discard the onion, add salt to taste (you might find, as I did, that your tomatoes came salted and that you didn’t need to add more) and keep warm while you prepare your pasta.

Serve with spaghetti, with or without grated parmesan cheese to pass.

Brown baggin' it...

I am grateful that little things still have the power to impress me. I wanted to share with you one of those amazing little things that is dumb simple, but may even be able to change your life for the better. My kids have a love affair with popcorn. Cleo is not really a great eater of anything not covered in butter or salt, so, by those parameters, popcorn is pretty much manna from heaven to her. The kid can put away a large bucket of popcorn at the theater and still find time to bat your hand away if she thinks you are taking an inappropriate share. Flynn seems to be following her lead and popcorn is one of the most requested snacks and treats in our house. I shuddered when I first heard the awful stories about people going to the emergency room with mysterious breathing problems only to find out that the culprit was their daily bag of microwave popcorn laden with chemicals and fats that stick to lung lining and other precious innards. Yuck! After that, I switched to the healthy Newmans, 0 trans fat variety, but it is expensive and made Cleo root around to find the "buttery, yellow" ones which equalled a lot of waste and a big mess.

Enter my brother in law Brooks telling me offhandedly that you can pop raw kernels in your microwave in a simple brown paper bag! What? Maybe I'm late to the show on this, but I'd never heard of it. I looked online and found loads of recipes and instructions. And here I am months later ready to tell you....stop buying chemical laden, expensive, packaged popcorn and pop your own! No air popper or other contraption required. All I do is scoop 1/4 c. raw kernels into a regular brown paper sack, fold the top a few times and set it to pop. In my microwave, my "popcorn" button cooks it just right at about 2:00. Once it is done, I put it into a bowl and pour a couple tablespoons melted unsalted butter and some sprinklings of kosher salt. It is delicious and tastes so much better than the store variety. If you want to go even more upscale, this recipe from Food Network's Alton Brown is delicious too. The olive oil really changes the flavor.

And while I'm telling tales of culinary revolution, another little joy we've discovered at our house is juicing oranges. Years ago for Christmas my in-laws gave us a small juicer designed for citrus only. It was one of the best gifts I've ever received! 10 years later and it's still in great condition. Lately, I've been filling a big basket of navel oranges and placing it on the counter. Every few days the kids have a heyday juicing a big pile. It is a great project to keep their little hands busy. They can last 30 minutes doing this which is seriously amazing in my book. (The towers of halved oranges turn out to be pretty fun stacking toys and provide counting practice too!) Plus the juicing infuses my kitchen with the smell of a much warmer clime, something I'm really appreciating at this point in a snowy, cold winter, and it gets us all a good dose of healthy vitamin c.

Like I said, little things.... but more and more I find that is what the joys of life really are about: simple pleasures and new discoveries.

Steam up those windows...

For me the stretch of winter between January through Feburary is always about hunkering down. I tend to get rooted to home and projects and day dream about the warmer days to come when I can be outside doing the things I really love. I find myself dreading January and February, but in actuality, I think the record would show these are good months for me. I get a lot done when I'm staying focused on home, and though my expanding waistline might disagree, I get so much enjoyment out of cooking in the cold, winter days. It is interactive entertainment (especially if you involve your kids) and it is thoughtful attention to a task that I find really relaxing. And then there's the eating. It's hard to beat summer produce but a comfort laden winter meal comes close. Love you hot cinnamon-y oatmeal, Mmmm pasta with alfredo sauce and peas and ham, yum bread pudding, ahhhh french onion soup smothered in gruyere, yes roasted chicken with mashed potatoes, more please chipotle spiked roasted squash and salty oven roasted brocooli..... so many good tastes and sensations. And I get inexplicably warm inside when I see the stock pot steaming up the windows in my kitchen and then look out to the snow covered trees and roofs beyond. It's a gorgeous feeling, and such a good reminder of the safety and comfort and blessings I have within the walls of my home.

Cooking is a powerful thing. It is one of those uniquely human acts....can't think of a time I've ever heard about a monkey or a dog boiling up some pasta...and since cooking ultimately leads to eating, it is a cornerstone of our species' survival. But let's not forget that it can also be very fun. I might be somewhat biased with that statement since I've always liked to cook, but I really think it is true. The process of making food, especially for loved ones or to celebrate a special occasion is galvanizing. I love the tradition of taking food to a family with a brand new baby. Funeral food and baby shower food are distinct and recognizable breeds. Funeral cheesy potatoes anyone? Chciken salad with grapes on crossiant? I love the way food and certain dishes or tastes can link to memories and to people. My dad? He's swedish pancakes and cucumber and swiss sandwiches on rykrisp or limpa. My mom? She's hot fudge sauce and pork roasts with perfect gravy. My sister? Sugar cookies and banana cake. My grandma Mere? Swedish spritz and apricot nectar. Jaren? A perfectly cooked fried or poached egg with feta and spinach. Food creates legacies and merriment. I really believe that. It's a belief I hope I'm instilling in my kids each and every day they watch (and help) me in the kitchen.

Yesterday was Cleo's 6th birthday. (Unimaginable!) We spent literally a few hours of the morning making her birthday cake, a delectable and insane 6 layer rainbow deal inspired by this picture of baked loveliness I randomly found online. Though our final product bore no resemblance to that one (and lost 2 layers to a tragic pan sticking incident), it was really fun to spend the birthday morning in our robes, spilling sugar, splattering egg whites, and swirling vibrant colors into batter. It felt celebratory, and like so much in life, I think the effort made the taste all the sweeter.

dark days

i don't think i am a very paranoid person. i don't think everyone is out to get me and i don't do very much looking over my shoulder. that being said, regardless of my specific spiritual beliefs, i do have a fear of armageddon or the world as we know it taking a nose dive. i harbor a strange, keep me up at night, phobia about living through a period similar to the dark ages, or mad max-ish post tech days, where enlightened beacons of culture and humanity disappear and the people who remain have not the slightest memory of the achievements of those who came before them. it would be plain awful to forget all the foundations of everything and have to relearn through trial and error and laborious research everything that was once commonplace.

i bring up this particular brand of panic attack because it occurred to me today as i was reading the very fantastic back to basics cookbook Jam it Pickle It Cure It (a recommendation by my lovely friend Seth--thank you!) that this is exactly what i'm going through to get back to a level of food and home making knowledge that was run of the mill just one or two generations ago. the familiarity with how to make food from whole ingredients, nothing pre-packaged or pre-made, has all but vanished. and then go one more step down the line and realize that there are probably even fewer people under a certain ripe old age who also still know how and what to grow as FOOD not landscaping, straight from the earth outside their door ....and suddenly my dark ages phobia doesn't seem so silly, right?

we seem just a small step away from a certain kind of dark age to me. the fantastic writer michael pollan (omnivores dilemma, in defense of food) wrote a piece in last week's Times that i adored called out of the kitchen, onto the couch. inspired by the film julie & julia, he dissects why we as a culture are currently so fascinated with food and specifically the food network, and yet we have never cooked less as a nation or understood less about food production. the question at the core of the article is how did we let cooking go from something you do to something you watch and pay someone else to do for you? he cites some chilling statistics about how much people cook these days which sounds decent when you hear 58% of us still cook a weeknight meal, but then when you read between the lines of the study that produced the statistics it becomes clear that the whole definition of what it means to cook today has drastically changed. when you count washing lettuce and pouring a bottle of dressing on as "making" a meal or slapping mayo from a jar onto a loaf of store bought bread, the picture seems quite a bit more pathetic and the state of culinary know how even more dire.

why should we care about people cooking less themselves? the article has a whole list of compelling reasons. to me it really is mostly about the fact that very little good seems to be coming from letting others do it for us. we are getting fatter and so are our kids. most of us eat out more than we eat in and that means more money spent and leading less home-centric, busier lives shuffling to and fro. health concerns are voiced nearly daily about the chemicals that industrial food asks us to ingest. if we made stuff ourselves that would cut so many of those chemicals right out of our diets, i mean, when was the last time you reached for your can of calcium sorbate? but the purist in me, the cultural anthropologist if you will, really is most worried about the ramifications of letting the old time ways completely disappear because of the loss of knowledge that it indicates. i think it is weird to know less than someone did 100 years ago about food and survival and call it progress. we have more information at our disposal than ever before but seem to know less about the core subjects that really would matter if the earth were to shift and we were to stare a brand new world in the eye tomorrow, one that didn't have factories, industrial farms, recipe books, or outlets for heaven's sakes. what would we do?

i am not sounding the alarm quite yet, but i'm more like ringing a persistent bell. i want to challenge myself to do more of my own stuff from scratch (cheese, preserved meats, pickles) and really understand the alchemy behind the food products i regularly eat. and then i want to involve my children in the processes. making your own mayo or growing pole beans could be as intrinsic in the next generation as using a touch screen iphone, if we let it. if we want it. let's be truly modern and be willing to look as far back as we look forward.

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