Good Morning, Good Morning to you! Scottish Morning Rolls

Welcome to part three of my series of recipes from Bread Matters by Andrew Whitely. If you haven't seen the other insallments, then look here, and here for Wholemeal Bread and Milk bread, which introduce you to my somewhat wittery prose, and also two different ways of making bread. This post looks at using a sponge and dough method.

Well I have to say I could get used to not working, it's only day four, and I've been so busy. Naturally I've injured myself, but that aside, I've been swimming each day, run errands, done lots of walking and have got myself closer to up to date on life, the universe and everything. It's surprising how much there is to do and being poorly has naturally got in the way of late.

Anyway, as Monday dawned, bright and beautiful, I was already ahead of the game, the sponge for my Scottish morning rolls was merrily doing it's thing on the window ledge. I'd made it Sunday afternoon, in pretty much minutes, covered it with a carrier bag, and left it be until the morning. Like sourdough, a sponge appeals to me because a lot of the work is done by the dponge itself, my intervention is practically nil. Not that I'm completely lazy or anything. Well not much.

Anyway, Andrew says in the book that this recipe can be applied to all kinds of bread - and I think I'll try it with a loaf next week sometime. What you'll notice, in comparison to both the wholemeal and milk breads is the reduction in the amount of yeast and the extension of the initial prove. This for me is brilliant, and for people like myself who avoid eating bread because of that bloated feeling commercial bread can give you, this doesn't. At all (for me, anyway) because the yeast has fed upon the sugar available. The recipe makes a dozen rolls (although if you made slightly more even sized ones than I did you could easily get a baker's dozen)

The overnight sponge

1tsp fresh yeast
130ml tepid water
50g stoneground strong wholemeal flour
100g strong white flour

Dissolve the yeast in the water, and add it to the flours
Mix until all the ingredients are thoroughly combined (I do this with my hands) You don't need to knead the sponge, since the gluten develops over time.
Put this into a big mixing bowl
Cover with a lid or poythene bag, and leave at room temperature for 12-18 hours. As it was so hot last weekend, I left it on the window ledge so that it was slightly cooler.

Off to bed for me, only to wake up in the morning (very geekily) super excited about my sponge and dough. Yes I know I need to get a life. What can I say!

The final dough

Overnight sponge
350g Strong white flour
100g Stoneground strong wholemeal flour
1 tsp salt
270g water
1 tablespoon olive oil

So Andrew says (I'm calling him Andrew now, I figure three recipes and repeated bedtime reading, we're past Mr Whitely these days) to have a good sniff of the "fruity, beery, slightly vinegary aroma" Don't do this too early in the morning. Certainly not before your first cup of tea. The reason it's collapsed down (that's what's supposed to happen) is because the yeast has run out of food, and the gluten collapses because the enzymes have stretched it beyond where it wants to be during fermentation. The enzymes working like this, so slowly really soften the gluten.

Mix the ingredients together into a soft dough
Knead until it is silky and slightly stretchy - I needed to flour my worktop more than usual as this was a sticky dough for me. I expect the heat didn't help.
Leave to rise for 1 hour - this gives the yeast an opportunity to use the fermentable sugar in the new flours.
Divide the dough into 12 equal pieces (if I could find my baker's friend, this would be ideal, but it seems to have got lost in the move so I used a sharp knife. Something tells me that tearing at the dough would knock too much of the air out of it).
Mould each one by rolling it on the work top. I rolled them into a round between my (floured) hands much as you would playdough. Then dip it into a bowl of flour - I used the malted flour I haven't used since the first wholemeal loaf.
Place the rolls about 2cm apart on a lined baking tray. Give each roll space to rise.
Cover the tray with a loose polythene bag, I left them to rise until doubled - this took about an hour in my very warm flat. You know they are ready when they are touching their neighbours.
Bake in a hot oven - 230 degrees - for 5 minutes, then turn the heat down to 210 degrees and finish off. Mine took about 20 minutes.
To check, tear one bap away from the others, and check it's top and bottom crust. I know Andrew says not to, but I tap the bottom and if it sounds hollow then that to me says it's done.

These have been great. Kept in the breadbin, they've lasted beautifully over the week. Mark has had them for lunch each day, and I had them yesterday, somewhat overfilled with pulled ham from the hock mixed in a mustardy mayonaisse. A slightly sweet, malty roll that's soft but not pappy, and has a tasty but not mouth killing crust. Definitely a winner.

With jam and bread... and bread... Milk Bread

This is my second recipe from Bread Matters by Andrew Whitely, and I am just loving getting back into breadmaking. In the same way as I'm enjoying preserving, there's something soothing and reaffirming into making something out of very little, about making things stretch, in the repetition, thought and work put in to this type of cooking. Unlike baking which always results in something demonstrably decadent, jams and bread are things you need. Things that by making yourself you don't have to buy, and are therefore good uses of my time, and ingredients I might otherwise not use. Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Clearly I'm a displaced 40's housewife. With a veg box. It could happen!

What's really interesting about Bread Matters, is that it's not just a recipe book, as you progress through the recipe pages, you're learning about different techniques of breadmaking and why the yeast works as it does. Now for a science phobe such as myself - seriously, I'm completely phobic - my last meeting with science was my GCSE exam and all I remember is staring vacantly at my left hand trying desperately to remember what the rule was I was supposed to know about that linked to it, whilst not hyperventilating or vomiting. If people had linked science to food, art or musicals I would have been a scientist by now. Still my double B in science seems to set me up for understanding yeast.

In the milk bread, it's the full fat (still only 4% before those of you on diets have a coronary) milk that softens the crumb. It's noticeably different to the wholemeal I made last week. Soft and flavourful, the sort of bread that reminds me of childhood (why I don't know, maybe it's my misspent youth reading Enid Blyton novels). Clearly not my childhood. Whilst you can't taste the milk, there is a mild flavour of something different from the wholemeal. Mixing the strong wholemeal and strong white flours also makes the flavour milder.

Again it was such an easy, soothing way to spend an evening - I would say to anyone who hasn't made bread themselves to try it, Andrew Whitley's book really does give you a framework for home breadmaking, and also helpful hints and tips. All I'm doing is a recipe and a fair amount of nonsensical chat.

I should probably also state that I have nothing to do with Andrew Whitely, and bought the book myself, I am just this evangelical about home breadmaking.
Sorry, I went slightly off piste there didn't I? Erm where was I? Evangelical about good, home cooked bread. Quick and easy. If you have the money a breadmaker makes it even easier, if you don't - I personally prefer to do it by hand.

Recipe: Milk Bread

260ml Whole milk
5g fresh yeast
200g strong wholemeal flour
200g strong white flour
tsp salt

1 egg, beaten with a little milk for the glaze (not to self, I must get a pastry brush)

Dissolve the yeast in the milk
Combine all of the ingredients in a mixing bowl, then turn out onto the worktop and knead for 10 minutes
Let it rise for 2 hours (as before, in the bowl, covered with a plastic bag)
Then divide the dough into two peices - one about 500g, and the other of the rest (about 150g)
Divide the larger peice into 4, stretch out to make small loaves and put in a loaf tin so they're touching (that'll make more sense if you look at the picture up top)
Have a go at twirling, plaiting or knotting the other bit, after making it into a longish sausage
Brush with the glaze
Leave for another hour to prove again
Preheat the oven to it's top temp and turn down to start baking at 210 degrees.
After 10 minutes turn it down to 190 and leave the loaf for 30 - 40 minutes, the twirly, knotty plait cooks quicker - in about 20 minutes.

This was really nice spread thickly with butter and (homemade, naturally) strawberry jam! The plait was demolished in two days by Mark and myself. That's fast.

The Bakers wife: because bread matters, really matters

Over the last weeks I've had a lot of time on my hands, and when my eyes have been OK I've been re-reading Bread Matters by Andrew Whitely. I've been taking more notice of what I've been eating, and despite trying to keep processed products at a minimum, my need for toast and marmite has meant that I've been eating more processed bread than I would like and before I got unwell I was eating a lot of sandwiches, the death of Mabel meant that these were all mass produced.

Naturally I would prefer to be baking with a new baby Mabel, but in the absence of a new leaven I went out to buy some yeast. Ideally fresh, but sadly Waitrose seem to have decided they neither sell nor give out fresh yeast. However, I did manage to get some stoneground wholemeal flour, although my bid to get something that's relatively local was not successful as Waitrose's most local flour was from Canada. Yes, Canada. North of North America. Confused? I was, and have put a call into Customer Services to ask about why they aren't stocking any British bread flour.

So the plan is to work my way through the bread recipes in Andrew Whitely's book seeing how easy, tasty and successful they are. In order to avoid turning into a yeasty blob, I'm going to only bake once a week, and will be passing much of it on to the ever grateful Mark, colleagues and friends.

My first bake has been (appropriately) Basic Bread - it's a 4 hour bread - and the only error I've made is to forget to keep a peice back to use as 'old dough'

Makes 1 large or 2 small loaves
600g stoneground strong wholemeal flour - I used 400g wholemeal and 200g of malted flour for a sweeter taste
1tsp sea salt
400ml water
1.5 heaped teaspoons of yeast - I used dry as I couldn't get fresh
Linseeds for the top

Put the flour & salt in a big bowl
Mix the yeast in the warm water until it starts to froth, add the liquid to the flour and mix with your hands until you have a ball of dough
Tip this out on the worktop and knead for 10 - 15 minutes
Put back in the original bowl, and leave to rise for 2 hours, covered with a plastic bag
Split into 2, and stretch/ knock back to fit 2 buttered loaf tins
Put somewhere warm, covered with a plastic bag again until it's doubled in size
Bake in a 230 degree oven for 10 minutes, then turn down to 200 degrees for a futher 30 minutes
Tip out of tins and leave to cool on a wire rack

Enjoy! Next week, Milk bread

The good, the bad, and the ugly... Bread matters, chicken sausages don't

The Good: The time off work recuperating from my back injury has given me time to finally get around to reading a book recommended by one of the eternally helpful ladies from handbag.com, and so far the verdict is that it's both fabulous and incredibly insightful. Andrew Whitley is the author of said book, Bread Matters. As seasoned blog readers will be aware, I'm very interested in the ethics behind our food as well as making sure that what I eat is as good for me as possible and having switched to home-made bread almost exclusively before reading this book - it's still been very eye opening.

The Bad: Well I'm back at work part-time, and under the supervision of the Occupational therapy nurse which is oddly reassuring. I'm so glad that I'm feeling better that it's tempting to do too much and end up as I did for most of yesterday, flat out on my back, asleep. Life is so exciting when you're me. I slept all afternoon, got up, ate leftover summer vegetable risotto (last week's Monday masterpiece) and steamed curly kale, watched some more old episodes of Friends (Monica and Chandler just got together and Ross tried to marry Rachel not Emily) and then ate my flatmate's mum's crumble (verdict: I'm uber jealous, it's much better than mine - not that this stopped me inhaling it last night), tried to recruit someone as a new Guider (work in progress) and then went back to bed; and slept for about 12 hours.

and The Ugly: Chicken sausages. No really. Just don't. Ever. I felt it would be rude to take a picture at the table. But really, avoid them at all costs. Basically a variation on the really bad hotdogs you may (as I did) adore as a child. As an adult my tastebuds pretty much rejected them. I'm still recovering, with the aid of a lot of tea.

Monday masterpieces to be blogged later* should be: cabbage, bacon and potato soup, pitta bread, and home-made houmous (which I thought I had blogged about before, but apparently not). Randomly I'm craving scones, cream and jam but hopefully using up last week's vegetables (from a seated position in case the OT nurse is reading) should distract me from thoughts of soft scones, fruity jam and clouds of whipped or clotted (i'm not fussy!) cream... *dribbles*

*not necessarily later today, but definitely this week. Promise. Brownies honour and all that.