Thursday, December 20, 2007

Our Daily Bread


It’s hard to imagine that the wooded hills in my neighborhood once grew wheat. Yet 150 years ago, Maine was the breadbasket of New England. We’re now beginning to see Maine-grown wheat in markets again: a boon for bread makers who want locally-grown ingredients.

My husband Lloyd has been making our bread for the last year. It has transformed our meals, if not our lives. His loaves are hearty, with a mild sourdough flavor and a crumby texture and crisp crust usually found only in the best bakery breads. If that weren’t enough, this bread is so simple to make, all that’s required is patience.

The technique is forgiving, so even if you are not an experienced baker, don’t be discouraged from trying. Lloyd is a free-wheeling cook who hates to follow recipes exactly, and his bread is good every time.

Our daily breadmaking began with two articles by Mark Bittman, who writes a weekly cooking column for the New York Times. His first piece, published November 8, 2006 generated such enormous response that a month later he devoted a second column to answering readers’ questions and suggesting ways to fine-tune the process.

What is so exciting—or revolutionary-- about this bread recipe? It achieves spectacular and reliable results with no kneading, and no special ingredients or equipment. In short, time does the work. It takes 24 hours to make the bread from start to finish, and for most of that time, the dough does its thing without your help. Flour, water, salt and a small amount of yeast are the easy-to-remember ingredients in the dough, which should be almost, but not quite, too wet to handle. The long, slow rise does the work of kneading, and slightly ferments the flour, giving it a delicious sourdough flavor. A crisp crust—crisp as a professionally baked French baguette—is achieved by baking the wet dough in a covered pot in a very hot oven. Voila! It’s that simple.

Now to the recipe—and we’ll talk more as we go along.

Mark Bittman’s No-Knead Bread

Time: 5 minutes to prepare; 18 – 20 hours to rise; 45- 60 minutes to cook.

3 cups bread flour or all purpose flour
¼ teaspoon instant yeast
2 teaspoons salt (as little as 1 ¼ teaspoons of salt may be used)
Cornmeal or bran as needed to handle the dough

A heavy pot (4 quart cast iron is ideal) with lid. Nothing fancy, but able to withstand a very hot oven. Enameled cast iron, Pyrex and ceramic work too. The right sized pot makes a well-rounded loaf. A pot that is too big will make a wide, flat loaf. (We use an 8 quart cast iron dutch oven, which is too large. I’m still looking for the perfect pot.)

1. In a large bowl combine the flour, yeast and salt. Add to the flour mixture 1 5/8 cups of tepid water and stir until blended. The dough should be shaggy and sticky—almost too wet to handle. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a dish towel, and let rise in a comfortably warm place for 18 hours, more or less, until the surface is pocked with tiny bubbles, and the dough clings with shaggy strands to the sides of the bowl.

(Here it should be said that although you can rise the bread for less time—8 - 12 hours – it will not have the well-developed flavor that a longer rising gives. Letting it rise as much as 24 hours will not affect it adversely unless the air temperature is too high. You will need to experiment to find what works for you and your schedule.)

2. When the dough is ready, dust your hands and the dough with flour, cornmeal or bran, and turn it out onto a well-floured pastry board or clean dish towel (not terry cloth). Flatten dough into a rectangle and fold in thirds. Let rest for 15 minutes. Gather the dough in a loose ball and place it seam side down on a floured towel, dust with more flour or cornmeal, and cover with a second clean dish towel. Let dough rise this time for 2 - 3 hours. When ready, dough will have risen to more than double its size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.
(I have had reasonable success shortening the second rise to 1 hour, in a pinch.)

3. 20 minutes before the end of the second rise, put the pot and lid in your oven to preheat to 450. When the oven has reached temperature and the dough is ready, carefully remove the pot from the oven. Lift the dough on its towel and with your hand underneath, gently turn it upside down into the pot. (It will look like an uneven blob in the bottom of the pot, but in cooking will straighten out.) Shake the pan to distribute the dough more evenly, if necessary. Cover, and bake for 30 minutes. After 30 minutes remove lid and bake for an additional 15 – 30 minutes, until loaf is beautifully browned. (Time here will depend on your oven: we find we have to reduce the heat to 400 after removing the lid to prevent scorching, and cook for an additional 15 minutes.) Cool on a rack.

If your dough is too wet, it may stick to the towel when you turn it into the hot pot. This is recoverable: quickly scrape the dough that remains on the towel into the pot with the rest of the dough, cover and bake. The dough never sticks to the pot after baking.

You can add other ingredients (cheese, olives, caraway seed, nuts, raisins) after the first mixing, or fold them in before the second rising.

A word about flour:

We have used as much as 100 % whole wheat flour to make the bread, but it has better crumb when lightened with some white. 1/3 wheat to 2/3 white gives reliably good results. Rye is difficult to work with in this recipe. It makes the dough too sticky and is almost impossible to get to rise. I would recommend no more than 20% whole rye flour. Experiment.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

The Bounty of Bones


I have by now filled our chest freezer with locally-raised meat for the coming year: beef and lamb; two dozen chickens; pork sausages and bacon. There are many pleasures to be had from buying one’s meat from local farmers. First is the pleasure of knowing that the animals are raised humanely, out of doors and on pasture, the way nature designed them to live. A happier animal is a healthier animal, and that translates to better quality meat. And it is satisfying to know that I am helping my neighbors in a very small way to keep the farm. Another pleasure is that I can choose, to some extent, the cuts of meat I want. Before the animal goes to the butcher, the farmer sends me by email a “cut sheet”, where I can designate how I want my share of the animal cut and packaged. This requires a bit of education. When we buy our meat at the supermarket, we can remain innocent of where the meat comes from; what cuts come from what parts of the animal, and what the best uses of each cut are. Somehow, it seems more responsible to know a little about the creatures who nourish us. And to have a relationship with the farmer who raises them.

Typically a whole lamb, for instance, will provide leg and shoulder roasts, loin and rib chops, shanks, stew meat, ground meat, soup bones and organs. When I order lamb and beef, I choose cuts that have the bone in when possible, because meat cooked on the bone is juicier and more flavorful than with the bone removed, and the bones can be used later for stock-making. (The rewards are worth the effort of all this planning.) I also order extra suet (the fat surrounding the loins and kidneys) for my winter birds, and marrow and knuckle bones which aren’t generally given out by the butcher unless requested.

Once the wood cookstove is lit, there is hardly a day in our household when the stock pot isn’t simmering.

Meat stocks are highly nourishing and restorative; chicken soup is, after all a traditional remedy for the flu. Not only are broths good for whatever ails us, but they add great flavor to food--be it soup, sauce or braising liquid for pot roasts and stews. And, they are very easy to make.

Ideally you will want to use a variety of bones from different parts of the animal for your stock. Knuckles and feet, for instance, are rich in gelatin; rib, neck and marrow bones impart color and flavor. If you can’t get these, collect and freeze assorted bones from cooked roasts and chops until you have enough to make a pot of stock.


Beef, Lamb or Venison Stock

6 - 8 pounds assorted bones from beef, lamb or venison (including knuckle, neck and marrow bones if available)

½ cup vinegar

2 onions, coarsely chopped
3 carrots, coarsely chopped
3 celery stalks, coarsely chopped
several sprigs of fresh thyme, (marjoram, oregano or savory can also be used) or 2 teaspoons dried herbs
1 teaspoon dried peppercorns
1 large handful fresh parsley
sea salt

If using knuckles, feet or marrow bones, place them in a non-reactive soup pot with the vinegar, and cover with cold water. Let stand 1 hour. (The vinegar draws the minerals out of the bones into the water.)

Brown the meaty bones in a roasting pan at 350 with one half of the chopped vegetables for 20 – 30 minutes. During browning baste the vegetables with the fat which accumulates in the pan. Add browned bones and vegetables to soup pot, pour off fat, and deglaze pan: add 2 cups of water to the pan, bring to a boil, and stir to loosen pan juices. Add this mixture to the soup pot with remaining vegetables.

Add more cold water to cover the bones and vegetables by at least 2 “ and bring to a boil. Skim off any brown scum that rises to the surface as the liquid comes to a boil. After the scum has been removed, reduce heat, add herbs and 1 ½ teaspoons of sea salt. Cover pot loosely. Cook at a quiet simmer for 4 – 24 hours. The longer the stock cooks, the richer and more flavorful it will be. (If the liquid is reduced below the level of the bones during cooking, add more water to cover).

Strain stock through a colander, pressing liquid out of meat and vegetables with a wooden spoon. Cool, degrease and strain again through a fine-meshed sieve or cheesecloth. Adjust seasonings, adding salt if necessary.

If you are not planning to use the stock within a week, freeze in pint or quart containers. If your freezer space is at a minimum, boil the stock down to a rich concentrate and freeze in small batches that can later be reconstituted with the addition of water.


Chicken Stock

1 large chicken carcass or 2 – 3 pounds of chicken parts, such as necks, backs, wings and breastbones

gizzards from one chicken (optional)
feet from one chicken (optional)
2 tablespoons of vinegar
1 onion, coarsely chopped
2 carrots, coarsely chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
thyme or marjoram, fresh sprigs or dried
1 handful fresh parsley
1 ½ teaspoon sea salt
10 whole peppercorns

Place chicken parts or bones in a non-reactive soup pot with vinegar and vegetables. Cover with water by several inches. Let stand 30 minutes to 1 hour, to draw out minerals from the bones. Bring to a boil, remove scum that rises to the surface, and add the herbs, salt and peppercorns. Reduce heat, cover and simmer gently for 4 to 24 hours. Add water during cooking if necessary.

Strain, degrease and adjust for salt and other seasonings as in the above recipe for meat stocks.





Sunday, October 21, 2007

Preserving our Roots


Carrots and beets, that is! Every home garden should have a row of fall carrots—that most reliable of keeping vegetables -- and one of beets for winter eating. If you don’t have a garden, most market farmers have extra root vegetables at the end of the season, and would be happy to supply you with them.

This year my row of fall carrots got a late start, so I have ordered extra from a friend. Next week I will put her large, sweet storage carrots and beets –unwashed, but with tops cut just above the root and clods of dirt brushed off—into damp wood shavings in lidded plastic tubs in my unheated cellar. Then, through the long winter, a ready supply of locally-grown, fresh vegetables is only a few steps away—at the bottom of my cellar stairs.

Carrots and beets like cold, damp storage, such as an unheated cellar. Onions, garlic, and squash want cool, dry storage—the closet of a spare bedroom on the north side of the house, or an attic, or cool entryway off the kitchen. When you start thinking about it, its not hard to come up with places where you can squirrel away winter vegetables, and you’ll be glad you did. They taste so much better than anything you can buy in the supermarket, come January.

Before canning and refrigeration, the most common method of vegetable and fruit preservation was cold storage of food in its natural state. When the first English settlers arrived in New England almost 400 years ago, they were unprepared for the harshness of our winters. The houses they built resembled those they had known in English villages—but with a difference: in the New World they needed cellars to preserve the harvest which was essential to their survival. Many of our older houses have stone-walled cellars, whose purpose originally was not to house furnaces and hot water tanks, but to store food during the winter. Now most basements are too warm for keeping food. But all is not lost if you don’t have an unheated cellar. A corner furthest from the furnace can be partitioned off to achieve the desired coldness (32 – 40 degrees). A basement window well with the light blocked can be used for mini cold storage, as can the steps of a bulkhead door. A handy piece of equipment to have is a wireless thermometer. I tuck one down cellar near the vegetables, and monitor it from the kitchen.

The beauty of storing root vegetables in damp shavings in tubs with lids is that high humidity is maintained (without having to humidify a large space) and rodents are kept out. Experts recommend that a change of air is necessary to keep the vegetables fresh, but I have found that opening the bins several times a week in the normal course of collecting food seems to do well enough. Moisten the shavings evenly before layering with the roots. The vegetables may touch but not crowd each other. Put a good layer of wood shavings between each layer of vegetable. Cardboard boxes work well, too. The wood shavings tend to dry out faster in cardboard than plastic, and will need to be refreshed with water every month or so. I have not experimented with them, but clean sand or sawdust can be substituted for wood shavings. Parsnips, turnips and kohlrabi can also be stored this way.

This year we ate our last stored carrot July 1—eight months after we put it away. It was still sweet and amazingly crisp—and it had never been refrigerated. To my mind, that is independence!


Carrots are the workhorse of winter cooking, receding somewhat into the background as the aromatic base for soups and stews. Beets, while not quite as versatile as the carrot, are delicious roasted or grated raw in salad. Both are nourishing; packed with vitamins and minerals. Studies done in France, where the carrot is revered as the savory basis of almost everything, suggest that raw carrots alleviate digestive ailments, lower blood cholesterol, and reduce the risk of lung cancer in smokers. Beets, which were developed by German gardeners in the middle ages, are so concentrated, nutritionally speaking, that many vitamins are derived from them. Beets and their tops contain substances that detoxify the liver and clean the blood. In Europe beets are used in cancer therapy.

Roasting root vegetables sweetens and caramelizes them. Large carrots often have a woody core which is best cut out before cooking. Beets bleed when cut, so if you don’t want their juices staining other foods in the dish, cook them separately or roast in the oven with skins on, and slip off the skins when cooked. (I happen to love the jewel-like stain beets impart to other root vegetables when cooked together!)

Oven Roasted Carrots and Beets

Preheat oven to 400 F.

6 medium carrots
6 medium beets
¼ cup olive oil
Salt and pepper

Wash, peel and trim the ends of carrots and beets and cut them into pieces that are roughly the same size and shape.

In a large bowl, toss the carrots and beets together with the olive oil, and season generously with salt and pepper. Spread the vegetables evenly in a baking pan in a single layer, and roast, uncovered, stirring and tossing occasionally, until the vegetables are tender, for 20 to 45 minutes.

Serves 4 to 6


Salad of Beet, Apple and Endive

2 medium beets, trimmed, peeled and quartered
1 medium apple, peeled and quartered
1 head of curly endive, or lettuce, rinsed, dried and torn into pieces
Balsamic vinegar, or blueberry vinegar
Olive oil
1 shallot, peeled and chopped
Sea salt and freshly ground pepper
Fresh chopped parsley
Goat or Roquefort cheese, crumbled (optional)

Grate the beets and apple in a food processor, or by hand. Put into a bowl with chopped shallot, 1 TBL vinegar, and 2 ½ TBL olive oil. Mix, and let rest for 15 minutes to marinate.

Prepare the greens: right before serving whisk 1 TBL vinegar with salt and pepper to taste in a bowl. Add 2 ½ TBL olive oil in a thin stream, whisking constantly. Add the endive or lettuce and toss so that the leaves are coated with the dressing. Arrange the leaves on a serving platter. Toss the beets one more time and mound atop the lettuce, leaving the lettuce showing around the edges.

Garnish with crumbled cheese, if desired, and chopped parsley.

Serves 4 to 6