An oily Italian

The types of bread I particularly like are the ones you can glance at and instantly recognise what they are from appearance alone.  That is a baguette.  That is a focaccia.  Those are chapatis.

Last night’s cookbook perusal was in search for such a recipe, and that could be mixed and proving prior to starting work at 9am in my office for the day, my dining room.  Paul Hollywood threw one up I hadn’t tried before and that I certainly wouldn’t turn away for lunch – ciabatta.

A notoriously wet dough precedes this bread.  And for once, Paul heavily advises to use an electric mixer because of this.  The extra water in the dough turns to steam during the baking process, creating the signature air pockets and open texture.  All of this water makes the mix very sloppy. But boy do you get a result at the end.

Ciabatta

Makes 4 / prep 2 hours / bake 25 minutes

Light-textured bread with a crust packed full of flavour.

500g strong white flour, extra for dusting
10g salt
10g instant yeast
40ml olive oil
400ml tepid water
Fine semolina for dusting (optional)

Lightly oil a 2-3 litre square plastic container.  It’s important to use a square tub here to help shape the dough.

Tip the flour in the bowl of the mixer and add the salt to one side and the yeast to the other side, so they’re not close.  Add the olive oil and ¾ of the water and begin mixing on a slow speed.  As the dough starts to come together, slowly add the
remaining water. Then mix for a further 5-8 minutes on a medium speed until the dough is smooth and stretchy.

Tip After the 8 minutes, the dough is incredibly stretchy and elastic.  It reminds me of the party cobwebs you can spray on windows at Halloween, fitting for this time of year.  Take a moment to have a poke – not many doughs look like this.

Tip the dough into the prepared tub and spread it so it reaches all sides and corners.  Cover with cling film and put in a very low oven (the most effective and quickest way to prove, I find).  Leave it there until it has doubled or trebled in size.

When it has done so, remove and turn the oven temperature up to 220C.  Line two baking trays with baking parchment or silicone paper.  If using baking paper, dust with lots of the strong flour.

Dust your work surface heavily with more of the flour and add some semolina too, if you have it.  Carefully tip out the dough (it’s pretty wet) onto the work surface.  There is no need for knocking back, in fact try not to handle it much at all.  You want to keep as much air in the dough as possible.

Coat the top of the dough with more flour and/or semolina.  Cut the dough in half lengthways and divide each of those in half lengthways also.  You should now have four long pieces of dough.  Stretch each piece a bit lengthways and place on the prepared baking trays.

Tip It’s a bit tricky transferring these long pieces of dough onto the trays, because they’re so floppy and sticky.  I used two long knives and slid them under each end, trying to lift them like that.  That worked for the first couple, but not for the last two.  I managed to use one knife and my hand in the end, rolling part of one end onto my hand and lifting the other with the knife.  Either way, you’ll get them on the trays in the end.

Leave the dough to rest for 10 minutes, then bake for 25 minutes or until the loaves are golden brown and sound hollow when tapped.  Cool on a wire rack – try and eat some warm though.  Not difficult. 

I’m incredibly pleased with these.  I’m pleased with how they’ve turned out – they look exactly as they’re supposed to, with the signature air pockets.  They also taste fantastic – a deliciously flavour packed crust with a chewy texture, alongside a light and fragrantly olive middle.  I’m also pleased with how they photographed, sliced and ready for my lunch.

In addition to that, this is a bread recipe that only requires a single prove unlike most, resulting in a far shorter time until the end result.  This can only be good. Especially when you’re like me and think about your lunch while eating dinner the night before.
Alfiyet olsun.

Fagioli foray

When on the hunt for a filling and wholesome meal fit for an autumnal evening, I often reach for an Italian or Spanish cookbook, and often look for something containing beans.  

Beans are truly excellent.  They hold their own in the flavour stakes whilst having ample capacity to absorb the flavours surrounding them during the cooking process.  They require little interference (to cook – just soak and boil) and have a nutritional value that rivals the amount of iron found in beef.  They’re high in fibre, low in cost and they leave you feeling duly satiated whilst being incredibly versatile.

My most favoured specimen of the musical fruit is the butter bean.  The first half of its title is true to form – when cooked, a wonderful creamy buttery texture is revealed and the taste is that of mild nuttiness.  Every time I try one of these beans to see if tender, even when I fully know they’re not yet cooked, I never fail to exclaim to the deaf ears of the kitchen ‘but why do butter beans taste SO good?’.

The meal chosen for the weekend was a polenta and borlotti bean bake (I used butter beans instead) chosen from Two Greedy Italians eat Italy – the book from what I believe was the second series.  In my opinion, the best cooking show on the box.  Carluccio and Contaldo - two exceptional characters with their genuine friendship and passion for the culinary excellence their country produces shining through every moment on screen.

‘Mamma mia, why I am cooking SO good?!’ exclaims Contaldo, with hands raised towards the heavens in his wonderfully thick southern Italian accent.

I don’t know Gennaro, but please continue to do so.  It’s a sheer pleasure to watch.

Particularly welcomed with the last series was their foray into the regions of Italy producing recipes that one might not usually associate with the country.  For example cured herring with apples from the lakes – a historically Scandanavian associated plate.  Sauerkraut with sausages or a potato and cabbage bake from the mountains – German staples.  The recipes from the coast will likely be those more usually associated with the reaches of Italy frequented by tourists – pasta with mussels, seafood risotto with courgette flowers, braised squid in tomatoes to name a very small few.

There’s a whole range of recipes earmarked for endeavour and I look forward to getting stuck into those from the cooler mountain regions over this winter.  

Polenta e Fagioli Borlotti al Forno – Polenta and borlotti bean bake

A real ‘slow food’ dish to be savoured on winter evenings.

Serves 6

200g dried borlotti beans (I used butterbeans as I already had them in stock)
5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1 small onion, finely chopped
1 celery stalk, finely chopped
1 leek, finely chopped
1 large carrot, finely chopped
80g panchetta, roughly chopped
10 cherry tomatoes
100g quick cook polenta
Large handful of parsley, finely chopped
80g fontina cheese, cubed (I used taleggio as couldn’t source fontina.

Soak the beans over night in plenty of cold water.  The next day drain, rinse thoroughly and cook in lots of fresh water until tender – about 40 minutes.  Drain and set aside.
Fry the pancetta until they begin to crisp.  Add the onions, celery, leek and carrot and cook for a couple of minutes.  Add the tomatoes and cooked beans and mix together.  Remove from the heat.

Preheat the oven to 200C/Gas 6. Make up the polenta according to the instructions on the packet – ensure you keep stiring to avoid any lumps.  Remove from the heat, stir in the parsley and cheese and season to taste. Add about ¾ of the bean mixture until all combined.

Grease the bottom of an oven dish with some butter.  Pour the polenta mixture into it, topping with the remaining beans.  If you’re feeling a bit decadent, add a few dots of any remaining taleggio / fontina to the surface.

Cook in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes until golden.  Remove and serve with some lightly dressed green – perhaps peppery watercress or rocket.

Tip  For a meal like this, I would always favour soaking dry beans over night rather than using those ready cooked from a tin.  It does require some level of foresight but the flavour and texture is completely different. Save tinned beans for a quick meals with little planning – such as with a can of tuna, red onion and watercress with crusty bread for a swift lunch.

Alfiyet olsun.

Old blue eyes Hollywood

Since the purchase of my electric stand mixer, I’ve decided to work through a good proportion of Paul Hollywood’s – How to Bake at a speed of, on average, two bakes a week.  This usually consists of a weekend bake, and a bake on a Thursday on which I more often than not work from home.  From power-knead to first prove all before the clock strikes 9 am.

My intention is not to try each recipe (some don’t appeal) but to find a select few loaves that are delicious and have recipes I've managed to nail.  Today was the turn of the malted loaf.  The photograph in the book did it many favours and I quickly came to the conclusion it would go very well with garden tomatoes and artichoke hearts for lunch. 

Turns out this recipe has made the list.

Malted Loaf

Made with malted flour for great flavour and texture – one to tear rather than slice.

Makes 1 loaf

500g malted bread flour

10g salt

10g instant yeast

30g unsalted butter

Olive oil for kneading

More of the flour for dusting

Tip As advised by Paul, I have purchased a small pot of instant yeast, rather than the separate 7g packets available.  It means you are able to measure the amount of yeast exactly as quite often more than 7g is needed for a decent size loaf, and needing to use one and a bit of those little sachets is uncalled for.

Tip the flour in the mixer bowl - add the salt to one side and the yeast to the other, so they’re not close.  Add the softened butter and ¾ of the water and turn the mixer on to 2 (or just mix together with your hands and start kneading on a lightly oiled surface for about 15 minutes).

Tip I found after a while, the dough ended up wrapping itself around the hook and not touching the sides of the bowl, so it wasn't being kneaded.  This can be the case when making smaller loaves.  The way to resolve this situation is to whack the speed on high – with the aid of the laws of physics, the dough will be flung to the sides as it goes round, allowing it to be kneaded once more.  You may want to stay near your machine in case it attempts to launch itself onto your kitchen floor.

After a good 10-15 minutes in the machine, tip the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and with floured hands, shape into a cob.  Place into an oiled boil, cover with cling film and leave to prove so it has at least doubled in size.

Tip I find the quickest and most effective way to prove dough is by putting the bowl in a very low oven, about 40C.  It will be warmer than any place in your abode and it means the proving time quoted in recipes is almost halved.  It took my dough just over an hour to double in size – before and after below.

Tip your dough out of the bowl and onto a lightly floured surface.  Fold inwards and punch repeatedly so all the air is knocked out – this is called ‘knocking back’.

Form the dough back into a round, smooth cob shape, place on the baking tray and cover with cling film (allow some give for it to grow) or place in a clean plastic bag.  Put it back in the oven at the same temperature it was proving before.

This is the second prove and is the final rise before you bake the bread.  You can see before and afters of my second prove below.

Once it has clearly doubled in size (as above), dust with flour and cut a deep cross into the dough – I tend to use DIY blades as I never find my knives are sharp enough.  That probably says more about the cook than the knives.

Whack the oven up to 220c and bake for around 30 minutes or until the bread sounds hollow when tapped underneath.  Place it on a wire rack to cool (at least a bit) before devouring.

It’s not just bread this book covers, but also pastries, sourdoughs, biscuits, puddings, cakes, tarts and pies.  It’s actually very informative as along with recipes, it provides the knowledge needed to understand the processes involved with baking.

Paul starts off by talking through a wide range of available flour, how they each behave due to their differing gluten contents, and what type of dough each can be used for.  He also talks through the purpose of the necessary additional ingredients such as fat, water, yeast, salt and so on.  Photographs are included for all technique descriptions – for example kneading, shaping, knocking back, plaiting and so on.

The book also walks you through how to make some staple pastries, once again with the aid of photographs.  Examples include puff pastry, sweet pastry, short crust pastry etc.   While most of these are available ready made in supermarkets, I fully appreciate the inclusion of these core recipes and look forward to attempting some puff from scratch.

It’s reassuring to see some classics in the book (crumpets – not technically baking as they’re done in a pan, buy my goodness I need to purchase some crumpet rings sharpish); teacakes; focaccia; ciabatta; hot cross buns; croissants; Danish pastries – Mr A’s most favoured; scones; baklava; lemon drizzle; Victoria sponge to name but a few).  But there are some more classics I feel are missing - I would like to have seen Paul's techniques to make the perfect pannetone.  I’ve attempted it two Christmases in a row and while they’re always delicious and readily devoured, I don’t quite get the texture right.  Part cake part bread – quite difficult to master.  Apple pie, doughnuts and profiteroles would be some others – I don’t believe there is any reference to choux at all.

Regardless, I feel this is a good staple on the recipe shelf both for those new to the baking game, whilst still providing something for the more tenured bakers out there. 

And released just in time for Christmas – handy that.

Alfiyet olsun.