Baking

Pizzerias have long known the value of overnight, delayed fermentation, and I’ve written about this extensively in American Pie: My Search for the Perfect Pizza, as well as in other books. After teaching hundreds of pizza and focaccia classes around the country and assessing the relative benefits of the many versions of pizza dough that I wrote about in other books, I’m including and updating the most popular versions here. This recipe is a variation of the neo-Neapolitan dough I introduced in Amercian Pie. I recommend making individual size pizzas, because the heat in home ovens simply isn’t sufficient to do a good job on larger pizzas. This dough will keep for up to 4 days in the refrigerator or for months in the freezer; just be sure to move it from the freezer to the refrigerator the day before you need it, so it can thaw slowly, then treat it like refrigerated dough. Both the sugar and the oil in this formula are optional. If you leave them out, you have a Napoletana dough (though not a true pizza Napoletana dough unless you use Italian “00” flour, which is softer and more extensible than American flour and does not require as much water). However, in my pizza classes across the country, this version, which is similar to the dough used at some of the top American pizzerias (such as Frank Pepe’s, Sally’s, Totonno’s, and Lombardi’s), always gets the most votes for favorite.

I’ve developed two ways to make San Francisco–style sourdough bread using the overnight method. The “purist” method of making sourdough breads uses no commercial yeast and produces a flavor that’s tart, acidic, and complex. The mixed method uses instant yeast to produce a finished loaf more quickly; because of the reduced fermentation time, it yields less acidity and sourness. Both versions are excellent. To use the wild yeast starter, build and ripen your starter at least 1 day and not more than 3 days prior to making the final dough. Of course, if you don’t live in San Francisco, this won’t be true San Francisco sourdough bread because it won’t contain a large concentration of the microorganisms associated with the Bay Area, especially the famous Lactobacillus sanfranciscensis (these organisms do exist in sourdoughs everywhere, but not to the same extent as they do in and around San Francisco). However, this style of sourdough, made with all unbleached white bread flour, has become so closely associated with San Francisco that I call it San Francisco sourdough to distinguish it from the French pain au levain, which contains a small amount of whole grain flour. That said, any number of pain au levain variations can be made by simply substituting whole grain or other flours for some of the white flour.

Pain au levain, which is the French term for naturally leavened bread, is generally considered to be the gold standard for wild yeast breads, though opinions do vary widely—and are strongly held. People from San Francisco, Portland, New York, Boston, anywhere in Germany (where it is called Sauerteig), and many other cities and regions may dispute the superiority of the French version. In fact, there isn’t one single version of pain au levain; it’s really a category of bread, usually consisting primarily of white flour, supplemented with a small amount of whole wheat flour, rye flour, or a multigrain flour. To complicate matters further, some “authentic” French levains are made with all-natural starter, while others use a combination of starter and commercial yeast (usually just a small amount). In this book, I use the term pain au levain to indicate breads that are naturally leavened, either with or without the addition of commercial yeast, using anywhere from 5 to 20 percent whole grain flour. In the process of developing the formulas for Peter Reinhart’s Whole Grain Breads, I discovered a method of mixing natural starters with commercial yeast that seems to work especially well for home baking and small batches. By increasing the amount of starter and commercial yeast in the final dough, it’s possible to make breads with all of the flavor development of the great levains, but with a shortened proofing stage at the end. As with most of the breads in this book, the cold, overnight fermentation method also extends the life of the dough to at least 3 days, with flavors that are even more developed on the third day than on the first. Although this unconventional recipe is unlike anything you’ll find in other books, it follows and fulfills the flavor rule (that is, flavor rules!). As with the San Francisco sourdough (page 64), you can make this bread leavened only with natural starter (the “purist” method), or you can add instant yeast to the final dough (the mixed method). If you want to use the “purist” method and bake the bread on the same day as you mix the dough, don’t refrigerate the final dough; just let it rest at room temperature for about 4 hours, or until it doubles in size. Then, shape and proof it at room temperature for about 1 1/2 to 2 hours, and bake as described below.

Although this formula is exactly the same as the preceeding pain à l’ancienne rustic bread recipe (page 52), the method is quite different. This focaccia dough is also quite similar to the pizza doughs in this book, the main difference being the amount of hydration. Focaccia is wetter, at 80 percent hydration, because it has the benefit of rising and baking in a pan to provide structural support, whereas pizza dough is closer to 70 percent hydration so that it can be handled and stretched. In both cases, the dough should be slightly sticky, not just tacky. Focaccia dough is so wet that it’s best to use olive oil to handle it, whereas flour works just fine with pizza dough. You can also bake a smaller, round focaccia (pictured on page 198).

I first introduced the concept of cold-fermented wet dough in The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. While the idea isn’t new or original, it has blossomed during the past few years into various no-knead, overnight-rise permutations. I now prefer the version in this recipe because it gives the best flavor and also provides the most flexibility for scheduling. The refrigerator provides a 4-day window of baking opportunity, and that’s hard to beat. The beauty of this dough, as others have discovered, is that it can be used in so many ways: for focaccia, ciabatta, mini baguettes, and more. (Because the method for shaping this dough into focaccia is substantially different, it appears as a separate recipe on page 57.) And even though it’s the most hydrated dough in this book, it requires only minimal mixing to achieve the same gluten strength as bakeries obtain by mixing continuously for 20 minutes, due to the stretch and fold technique.

Because the methods in this book balance time, temperature, and ingredients, you don’t need an array of pre-ferments to accomplish full development of the flavor and texture of the bread. Time does most of the work through slow, cold overnight fermentation. This formula differs from similar approaches in other recent books by using less yeast, giving the bread better flavor and caramelization, or coloring, of the crust. The dough will keep in the refrigerator for up to a week, but after about 4 days the quality starts to decline. If you want to make a full-size batch and save some of the unbaked dough for longer than a week, place the dough in one or more lightly oiled freezer bags after the initial overnight fermentation, seal tightly, and freeze. To thaw, place the bag of dough in the refrigerator the day before you need it so that it can thaw slowly, without overfermenting. This dough also makes excellent pizza crust (see pages 67 to 73 for other variations and page 24 for shaping instructions).

This version of French bread is the simplest formula in the book. It uses the cold fermentation technique, and the resulting dough actually holds the shape and cuts of conventional French baguettes, bâtards, and boules better than the lean dough (page 46), which is wetter. Because the dough isn’t as wet, it’s especially important to handle it with a firm but light touch. Too much pressure will squeeze out the gas trapped during the overnight rise, resulting in small, even holes rather than the prized large, irregular holes. I’ve also included a variation that makes spectacular loaves with a distinctive blistered crust.

My contribution to my family’s Thanksgiving meal has always been cornbread. In making it so many times, I discovered that it’s a great vehicle for fruit, cooked grains, or vegetables. This variation has a thick batter, so these are more like biscuits than bread. Pale orange and scarlet-flecked, these biscuits make a beautiful addition to a holiday table.

In summer, look for blueberries on hikes in temperate parts of the country. Last summer, I found enough for an entire pie on a hike in upstate New York. Wild blueberries can be even sweeter than farmers’ market berries, while store-bought berries can have high pesticide residues. So if you get the chance to pick them yourself, you might end up with a healthier and tastier cobbler. Serve with good-quality vanilla ice cream.

Start this recipe the night before serving it so that the lavender can soak in the cream and impart a strong flavor. Use fresh or dried lavender, but stay away from ornamental lavender, which is usually treated with pesticides. If you prefer, substitute peaches or nectarines for the apricots.

This granola is better than anything I have bought in a store (as homemade foods so often are), if that helps explain its boastful name! I use a mixture of nuts—everything from cashews, pecans, almonds, and peeled hazelnuts to walnuts. Pistachios, however, will burn quickly, so if you’re using them, add them at the end and let them bake for just a few minutes. This granola keeps for a long time in the refrigerator, so double the batch if you like. It makes a great gift, too! Serve it with milk or yogurt and fresh fruit.

Orange zest gives these crispy snaps a hint of citrus. Barley malt syrup (for more about this sweetener, see page 68) stands in for the traditional molasses, and tastes virtually identical. If the maple sugar is clumpy, break it up with your fingers before creaming it with the butter. To make gingerbread people, roll the dough to just over 1/4 inch thick and press in raisins or other toppings to decorate the cookies.

After my company catered a party spotlighting foods from the state of Oregon, we were left with several pounds of fresh hazelnuts from the Willamette Valley, the capital of U.S. hazelnut production. We added the nuts to a flourless chocolate cake, and the result was this dark, rich confection with fruity undertones. Maple sugar, which is simply dehydrated maple syrup, is sold at most health food stores, but you may substitute any dry sugar. Serve this cake with vanilla-spiked whipped cream.

Choose your favorite fall fruit to adorn this sweet focaccia. The great Italian cook who taught me how to make it recommended throwing three tablespoons of water into the lower part of the oven (below the pan of focaccia) three times during the first ten minutes of baking. The steam created results in a crispier crust. Try it, but be careful not to extinguish the pilot light or soak the focaccia!

Foragers prize black walnuts for their rich taste. Scientists study them because they contain the compound limonene, believed to have anti-cancer properties. Remarkably, one botanist has suggested that limonene inhaled from black walnut trees could help prevent cancer. Removing the hull and extracting the meat is challenging; crushing the nuts under a car tire is a popular method. If you can’t find the real thing, use regular walnuts instead. Enjoy this mildly sweet cake with tea or coffee.

Having grown up on Dede’s Cheese Straws (page 15), I never knew this version existed until I went to culinary school. Like Dede’s traditional Southern version, these savory, buttery bites get their kick from cayenne. If cayenne is too hot for you, simply substitute paprika or pimento (smoked paprika from Spain). Store-bought frozen puff pastry can be gruesome, so choose carefully; I always use Dufour’s, available online and at gourmet markets such as Whole Foods.

Each summer, any peaches that were not eaten, jellied, or canned were frozen. We would peel and slice the peaches and pack them into sealable plastic freezer bags. Most often, they later appeared as a topping for Meme’s Pound Cake (page 266). For a child, peach season was purgatory—it was so very hot—but I am sure Meme is smiling in heaven with satisfaction when she sees me practicing now what she taught me then. This soufflé uses the meringue method to rise, and the flavor is delicate and light. Frozen peaches may be used when peaches are not in season; simply defrost them before using.

This soufflé uses the pastry-cream method as the base. Pastry cream (crème pâtissière) is a very stable custard thickened with flour or cornstarch, and it provides an excellent foundation for dessert soufflés. Vanilla is the bean of a variety of tropical orchid. Use the whole pod if possible to allow the tiny seeds to flavor and speckle the dish. As a substitution, use 1 tablespoon of pure vanilla extract.

The key to this great cookie is the mix of chocolates—semisweet, milk, and creamy white—and just enough batter to hold together the good stuff. After the boxed brownies, making chocolate chip cookies was the next step in my young baking career. I was able to make the cookies without (much of) Mama’s supervision. The recipe was from my very first cookbook, Betty Crocker’s Cookbook for Boys and Girls, given to me on my eighth birthday. I top each of these cookies with a flawless pecan half, which makes them picture perfect. My pecans of choice are a variety called Elliot, which are petite, yet plump and rich with natural oils. For years, I’ve ordered them from Pearson Farms in Fort Valley, Georgia, for myself, and also have sent them as Christmas gifts to very special people all over the world.

For the most part, Mama has always made everything from scratch. Homemade cakes, cookies, and pies were the norm, but she would open one box when she made brownies. My father worked for a company that made, among myriad other things, brownie mix. I remember opening the Christmas gifts from corporate friends that contained a potpourri of company products, including the familiar red box—the brownie mix. Perhaps one of the reasons I am so fond of these brownies is that they represent my first solo forays into baking. Other than turning on the oven, I was allowed to prepare the brownies all by myself.