Beyond the humble grain

I listened to a fantastic podcast yesterday. It's an episode of BBC Radio 4's Food Programme, and they generally do really interesting programmes, I highly recommend it. They don't shy away from controversial topics but they also do some interesting delves into culinary history and look at current trends.

 

This episode was from a few weeks ago, and can be listened to online or downloaded anywhere in the world (yay for Auntie! - link). It's partly prompted by a new documentary called "The Grain Divide" which is due out 'soon' (not clear when).

 

The radio programme travelled around the world (including under the Arctic permafrost) and interviewed farmers, bakers, scientists, historians and others about a growing movement to reintroduce older strains of wheat to our diet, and create new ones. Basically, over time as we've selected for a grain that gives good yields and a fine white flour, we've lost flavour and nutrition along the way.

 

 

Everyone who's baked bread will know that commercially-baked loaves ain't got a think on home-made - using stoneground whole-grain flour and a slow rise makes enormous different to flavour. We know a lot of the nutrient is in the bran and other parts of the grain that don't make it into commercial white flours. 

 

The slow fermentation of traditional baking helps break down gluten and other parts of the flour to make nutrients more available for us to absorb in digestion, and there's a theory that the accelerated Chorleywood Bread Process has contributed to a rise in gluten intolerance.

 

Several people are trying to grow and use some older strains to bring us closer to the bread that would have been eaten two hundred or more years ago. There are other advantages to older strains - they are better adapted to the landscapes they evolved on, less susceptible to adverse weather, disease and local pests.

 

My next challenge will naturally be to find a source of heritage wheat locally. (For readers in the UK, there's a guide to local artisanal mills at The Sourdough School).

Homemade pizza

Saturday night is treat night. For several years now, we have planned, cooked and eaten (well, my boyfriend largely does the planning and cooking) healthy meals during the week, and on Saturday we can forget about diets and weight loss and cholesterol, and splurge.

It's a great trick because it's not that we can't eat pizza, burgers, ice cream, chips - we just have to wait until Saturday, so it helps with will power when one of us is trying to lose some weight. It also means we don't get too tired of eating healthy meals, or too tired of cooking, because we have usually eaten out on Saturdays, or got takeway. No cooking, no washing up.

Then we had a go at homemade pizza. I don't think we will ever again be able to spend €30 between us on a couple of takeaway pizzas, when we can make even more fabulous homemade pizza for half that, and have enough to invite some friends over to share it with us. We can even open a nice bottle of wine, or some craft beer, and still spend far less than we would in a pizza restaurant.

Homemade burgers followed, with homemade bread buns, grilled cheese and bacon. Yum. Why go out to a noisy pub when we can enjoy something so much nicer and cheaper in the comfort of our own home? (I've been checking out recipes for barbeque sauce, might have to have a go at that.)

I strongly encourage everyone to have a go at homemade pizza. I've been making bread for years and thought pizza dough would be difficult, but its the easiest bread recipe I've come across. I use this recipe from the River Cottage Bread Recipe Book. It only needs to rise once before baking, so I can have it from the bowl to the oven in less than an hour, or it can be left to develop more. 

 

My boyfriend mixes up a paste from tomato concentrate, which we always have in the cupboard. The only thing we need to go out and buy for this is the cheese, ham or other toppings. It's super quick and super tasty and super filling.

Saturday night is still treat night, but we are increasingly using it to invite people over. A couple of pizzas, a bowl of salad and a bottle of wine makes for an incredibly easy but really nice evening. Throw in some decent ice cream or even a pre-prepared tiramisu and we can call it a dinner party. 

I've even been able to add some fresh basil - my first homegrown ingredient on a homemade pizza.

Progress, or My Easter Monday in pictures

:: Finished scarf with tassels ::

:: Pickled beetroot ::

 

:: Fresh beetroot and radishes growing beautifully ::

 

 :: First try at a loaf with my sourdough starter ::

 

:: Skirt lining - just needs hemming and putting into the skirt ::

Book of Fermentations

It's amazing how quickly something becomes habit, becomes normal. I've been making my own yoghurt for what, two months? And already it's something I have going on in the background while I do the washing up. I've had one or two less successful batches - not kept at warm enough temperatures to incubate, I end with sour-smelling milk. Not sexy. But when it sets perfectly and you can turn a jar on its side like this? I get a thrill that somehow I just don't get from sending emails.

 

But by and large, I'm finding that making yoghurt is a very easy addition to my routine. I'm making yoghurt once or twice a month - it lasts two to three months in the fridge, particularly as I can usually get an airtight seal in the jars by filling them right to the top and ensuring both milk and jar are hot. Yummy and super simple. I'm still making one litre at a time - I did try two litres once, but the jars took up too much space in the fridge.

I'm now moving on to my next fermenting challenge - growing a sourdough starter. I have recently started looking at some things on my want-to list and thinking: well that's straightforward, why don't I give it a go? I have flour, I have plastic tubs, I have water. Let's go.

So far so good - beginning signs of fermentation, and oh my god the smell. Somewhere between rotting fruit, dangerously cheap alcohol and feet. I am assured by my trusty book about bread that the smell will mature, but at this stage I'm opening all the doors and windows every time I take the lid off.

The starter is not yet ready for my first bake, but I've been working up to it by trying out the sponge method of baking bread. Basically, you mix the water, yeast and some flour into a batter the night before you bake, and leave it to ferment. I'm afraid my unsophisticated palate could not detect any great change in flavours and the yeast was not noticeably more active after its overnight feast, but the dough was much easier to knead and work.

The final bread was yummy - I'm gradually expanding the selection of flours in my cupboard and now have white, rye and multigrain. I really, really need to find a better solution to storing the flour than just folding over the tops of the bags but so far, nothing. We use glass jars for the 1kg bags of plain flour, but I generally buy larger quantities of bread flour.

Now wondering what my next adventures in fermenting will be... Any suggestions? I'm thinking of moving on to cultured cheeses, or turning my hand to brewing beer.

Things making me smile

Homemade pizza dough rising. We've got some friends coming over for dinner, and a homemade tiramisu in the fridge for afters. Yum. (And yet my brain is thinking: maybe one day we'll have made the booze as well. And grown the tomatoes. And made the mozzarella.)

I have finally got off my butt and planted up some of the seedlings. I've potted up those with two true leaves of decent size.

I'll be back at length tomorrow, but now we have guests at the door!

There's so much time

When I first came to the concepts of simple living, slowing down and doing it yourself, I thought it would take a lot of time. Baking your own bread takes longer than buying it from the bakery, no? And so on across the board - we are exchanging our time for better quality, more ethical or more personalised products - food, clothes, household, leisure etc. 

This weekend has been very slow and simple - and yet I can't believe how much time I have. I keep looking at the clock incredulous that it is so early, that I can still do so many other things with my day.

Yesterday we had friends over to watch the rugby, so pretty much the whole afternoon was absorbed with drinking, eating, cheering and chatting. The morning was taken up with the weekly food shop. Yet somehow I had time to do a load of laundry, the week's ironing, some crochet, and make a pot of soup from leftover veggies from last week - with enough for me to take some into work next week.

Today, even after a lie-in and clearing up after yesterday, I have found time to make a batch of breakfast cereal, bake bread and prepare a pot of fruit salad for the week, in addition to tackling some paperwork. My boyfriend and I wandered around the local market (I picked up some yellow beetroot - a new discovery!) for a while, and later played a board game with a pot of tea. I've still had time to sit and read a book, to watch the skies turn orange, and to drink several cups of tea.

And now, I have plenty of time to sit down and work on this... A mystery? Ahah! All shall be revealed.

Where did all this time come from? What did I used to do before that took up so much time, and has since been dropped? I haven't been aiming to do anything, pushing myself to do more - just taking it slowly and savouring each activity. Where did the time come from?

A slow Sunday

- Clearing out the rag bag, discarding the smallest pieces -

 - English paper piecing with the larger scraps -

- Baking bread -

- Making fig jam -

- Yum!! Gorgeous colours! -

One loaf is not enough

Yesterday I finally tried out A Girl Called Jack's soda bread recipe. She calls it 'airy fairy easy peasy soda bread' - and it's by far the simplest, quickest, easiest bread I've ever made. It came out beautifully tasty - so much so that one loaf was not enough, and I made another one.

 It's so quick! From start to stomach in an hour. My second loaf was lighter and I reckon I could get it lighter still with time. Both were utterly delicious. I just can't get over how easy and quick! It's a loaf I can make after work that's ready in time for supper, and the ingredients are all things I have in the cupboard/fridge all the time so no planning or shopping is required. It's so simple that I didn't even have to refer to the recipe second time around. Thank you Jack!

Lazy Sunday?

Today counts as a lazy Sunday for me, because I've stayed home all day and watched three episodes of Downton Abbey. In between episodes, I have:

::Baked bread for sandwiches::

::Candied citrus peel::

::ALMOST finished the miniature stockings advent calendar::

Do you think I can call this a simple-living-style lazy Sunday?

Bitten by the baking bug

So what is it about Great British Bake Off that has me dusting off my apron and tutting at the poor array of baking equipment in my cupboard? (Seriously. Can't even do a Victoria sponge.) 

I seem to have been bitten by the baking bug. In the last week, I have made: one loaf of white bread with linseeds (and who'd have thought that the humble linseed could so totally transform bread?); one batch of rotis, ginger and oat cookies, chocolate chip and walnut biscuits, and now I have a teeny tiny batch of meringues in the oven. I've never made meringues before, but I've been meaning to try for a while, and with an egg white left over from the biscuits, I thought - why not? The world's smallest batch of meringue ever made. Fingers crossed they come out well.

Bread successes

This week, I had a go at making bread more simply - used more water, warmed it up first, and added extra yeast and a few linseeds. It worked better! Felt more bread-like after kneading, and it actually rose!! I think there were definitely too many linseeds in the other loaf, and also not enough water, so somehow the magic couldn't take place.

Yay! for minor successes - do you think I can keep this up?

Bread failure

I had another shot at bread again today - not so successful. It entirely failed to rise, and is burnt on the top but uncooked in the middle. It's just about ok as toast, but my sandwiches will not be amazing this week.

Homemade bread sounds and smells so amazing, but sadly the final product is rarely as good as the smell foretells. I'm not quite sure what has gone wrong. Last week, I left the dough to rise on top of the oven, and I thought that was too hot and dried it out too quickly, so this week I added more moisture and left it to rise on the table. Nada.

Too many linseeds? Not enough sugar? Too much salt? Should I try adding more yeast? Next week, I plan to 'go back to basics' - make the very simplest dough imaginable, not adding extras like buttermilk and honey. Fingers crossed that will do the trick! I just hope that the oven isn't on the blink again...

Baking bread

I love baking bread. I love the feel of the dough in my fingers. It's much the same reason that, when I make a cake, I enjoy beating all the ingredients by hand - the world disappears for a few minutes, and I get to watch all the chemical changes in the batter.