Baking My Way to a Better World
“Without bread all is misery”
A (regular) column written by Elizabeth Talerman, brand strategist and baker.
It happened by mistake really. While I like to tell people I’ve jumped on the bandwagon of bread baking during isolation through this pandemic, what really occurred can be chalked up to nothing more or less than avoidance and neglect. I’d been meaning, for months, to try my hand at sourdough, but found daunting the 7-day process of bringing a starter to life from scratch.
I decided to go the lazy route instead and found some yeast in the back of the freezer in order to make a biga. Far easier than nurturing a starter, this is the shortcut that would get me from start to finished loaf in a day, rather than a week.
The first two boules that emerged from the oven were rather underwhelming; flat, heavy and without a good crumb. Far too frugal with my time and treasure to throw food away, I cut up one of the loaves for croutons and gave the other to a friend who slices a whole boule crosswise, lines the bottom of a heavy pot with it and roasts a chicken and veg on top. Pure deliciousness. Too disappointed to try again, I pushed the jar with the remainder of the biga to the back of the fridge and forgot about it.
As isolation began, I found myself with less time to bake - not more. While others on my Instagram feed displayed artful dexterity with a lame or coaxed followers to turn the volume up and listen for the crackle of crispy crusts, I sat diligently at my desk for 8, 9, and 10 hours a day.
I am a strategy teacher and a tool-builder by day, a baker by night and in the wee hours of the morning. I do what I do for a living because I can’t figure out how to make a living baking. I tried and failed, but I can’t stop. I read recipes like people read the newspaper. I pin and clip and print and post. It is an obsession.
I keep doing it because it creates order when chaos reigns. During a crisis, it is continuity. It nudges me out of the anger I feel about the U.S. federal government’s response to the pandemic. It gives me a break from the waves of anxiety that wash through me as I worry about the survival of my small business. It is my escape from the pain I feel as I mourn the loss of lives, homes, security, and safety from the catastrophically senseless explosion that leveled much of Beirut.
Baking is demanding, exacting, frustrating and rewarding. It requires concentration and intuition. A feel for this and an exacting measure for that. Precision and process. Patience and possibility.
When the oven door opens it is a signal that I’ve accomplished something. When the results are up to my standards, I skip down the pathway to validation. This baking habit actually satisfies my desire to nourish others and admittedly, my unquenchable thirst for approval.
“I rarely eat what I bake. I neither yearn for bread nor crave sweets. Each batch of cookies, carefully crafted tart, box of seed-encrusted crackers, or crispy rye bread gets packed up, tied off with red and white baker’s twine and delivered to a friend or neighbor.”
I rarely eat what I bake. I neither yearn for bread nor crave sweets. Each batch of cookies, carefully crafted tart, box of seed-encrusted crackers, or crispy rye bread gets packed up, tied off with red and white baker’s twine and delivered to a friend or neighbor.
There are no short-cuts to making good bread. Nor are there any to creating a more just, peaceful and verdant world. Both require careful planning, daily nurturing and nourishing, and continual acts of generosity because it is only when we ensure the well being of others that we may secure the well-being for all.
After weeks of neglect, I reached to the back of the refrigerator to retrieve the biga I had made for those first loaves of bread. There was an inch of a murky liquid on top of the white gloop at the bottom of the jar. When I took the cover off the jar, this mess smelled of apple vinegar and champagne.
After many a late night scroll through the sourdough all-stars feeds on Instagram, I determined I could shake this mess up, add flour and water, and pass it off as a starter. She is Iggy (named for the medium that pushed me from intention to action) and she’s now responsible for generations of bread that have fed my family and many others around town here at the northeast end of Long Island.
Recipe: Sourdough Rye Bread
(adapted from @Brooklynsourdough)
Makes two loaves of bread
Ingredients:
160 g rye flour (or another flavorful flour of your choosing)
640 g all purpose or bread flour
540 ml water
480 g mature starter
16 g salt
Start this in the early evening to proof your bread overnight and bake it up the next morning. Ideal conditions for sourdough bread baking is a room without a draft at 72℉/22℃. If your room is warmer, proofing and fermentation happens more quickly and if it is colder this happens more slowly.
Day 1:
At least 30 minutes (up to several hours) before mixing up the dough, combine the flours and water. Let sit, lightly covered. This is the autolyse stage of bread baking.
Mix 480g of fully matured (at room temperature, well fed and doubled in size), into the autolyse thoroughly. Let sit, lightly covered, for 30 minutes.
Sprinkle the salt atop the mixture and pinch and fold it into the dough. Let sit, lightly covered, for 1 hour.
Wet your hands with water (this makes sure the dough doesn’t stick to your hands) and perform a series of stretch and folds. You will stretch the bread up and fold it over itself 4-6 times each round. Repeat the stretch and folds every 30 minutes for 3 more rounds (you may do a 4th of the dough doesn’t look smooth and feel stretchy after the 3rd round). The dough is ready when it has risen about 1.5 times its original size, maybe slightly more. Let sit, lightly covered, for 30 additional minutes. (Average total time for bulk fermentation: 3 hours.)
Divide the dough in half and pre-shape the loaves on a clean, lightly floured surface. Don’t be tempted to add too much flour. Your dough will be very sticky. Handle it with light hands and use a metal bench scraper to help you. This is the part I mess up more often than I get it right. Don’t despair. You can get a lovely result with an ugly pre-shape (that’s what this stage is called). Set aside for a bench rest of at least 10 minutes (up to 30 minutes).
Give the dough its final shaping. There are many ways to do this and you may make a round or oval loaf - depending on your proofing bowls and the shape of your Dutch oven or bread pan. I recommend watching videos to learn how to shape your loaves. Turn the shaped dough into well floured proofing bowls or bannetons. I use two kitchen collenders lined with a well-floured old linen dishcloth. I bring the ends of the linen over the bread and then put it in a large plastic produce bag that I’ve pinched from the grocery store. Put these into the fridge for 12–20 hours, depending on your schedule.
DAY 2:
Place two Dutch ovens into your oven on a middle to low rack and preheat the oven to 500℉/260℃
Turn the dough out onto a crumpled and wet piece of parchment paper, dust the top generously with flour, and score with a lame or sharp razor. Here’s where people get artful. There’s hours of inspiration on Instagram and @brooklynsourdough is one of the best!
Pull the Dutch oven out (with very good hot mitts) carefullyI and place the scored loaf into the Dutch oven, parchment paper and all, and put the lid on. Repeat with your second loaf. Drop the oven temperature to 450℉/232℃. Cook, covered, for 30 minutes.
Remove the lids. Bake 15-20 minutes more, uncovered.
Remove your bread from the oven when the top is a deep caramel color. Darker crust is far more flavorful! Move to a cooling rack immediately. Discard the parchment paper and allow to cool at least an hour before cutting so the inside of your bread sets and the texture isn’t sticky.
Enjoy one loaf and give the other to a friend, neighbor, stranger or your local food pantry.
Elizabeth Talerman is the founding partner of The Nucleus Group, a strategy collaborative that brings marketers, designers and behavioral specialists together in service of business strategy and social impact. She teaches brand strategy at the School of Visual Arts and wakes most mornings to see her bread rise with the sunrise.