I think it's a rare North American home cook who can claim to be pristine against the influence of the great Julia Child. I remember watching her show, The French Chef, as PBS repeats: her distinctive sing-songy voice teaching viewers how to make sauces or crêpes or beasts in a way that was very matter-of-fact, but approachable. More importantly, I thought she was having fun.
When our fabulous Daring Bakers hosts, Sarah of i like to cook and Breadchick of The Sour Dough challenged us to make Julia Child's French Bread, I knew this would be a combination of fun and, well...work.
Yes, I'm fully aware of those glorious home bread machines that via prest-o-change-o magic fill homes with scrumptious aromas in three hours. Relatively effortless, all you have to do --apart from measure out the ingredients-- is dump the fixings into the gadget and walk away until it dings its "the bread has loafed" ding. Then all you need to do is cool it, wipe down the inside of the machine and wash the tin. It's a little too sterile for my liking...and truth be told, I usually wind up losing one of the kneading paddles into the crumb, so I end up massacring its underside, pulling out huge wodges of bread in search of a wandering machine part.
I wasn't forced to use the bread machine, something an uncle convinced my parents to get, but being the lazy sort I am, it became very convenient...and a very lah-di-dah excuse to not be lassoed into doing something as exciting as digging my eyes out with the catbox scoop--"Oh no, thanks for the invite, but I really do need to make some bread...yes, I do bake my own...it's terribly complicated...I really can't leave it, even through the second rise...yes, there's more than one rise...it's that sort of thing." Given the bread machine was usually hid under a tea towel, many people never noticed it.
To tell you the truth, there was a bit of me that was happy when the bread machine broke some 10-odd years ago. I'd rather have my hands stuck in a mass of sticky, yeasty and, well, farty dough than letting some dispassionate contraption have all the fun.
Let's face it, breadmaking by hand is not for the feint of heart, nor wimpy of arm. Although not required, a...healthy, if not plumptious physique helps with all that kneading and rolling and slapping and smacking that goes on when taming yeast bubbles. It also helps if you have a wee bit...or a whole bushel-load...of frustrations to work through. Think of the dough as a soon-to-be edible stressball.
If you've ever wanted to make French Bread, this recipe is one to try. Whatever you do, don't be discouraged by its copious notations, nor the total amount of time needed to make this bread from start to finish: Sarah's and Mary's hints, suggestions and clarifications are a fabulous way to calm even the most nervous of novice breadmakers, and well, you really aren't that active for all that breadmaking time (up to nine hours, if you want to know)...most of it is spent letting the dough grow, so you can go about your normal housey antics...cleaning, flitting through blogs, chasing the cat, watching Coronation Street, all of the above...
I was so pleased with my humble little loaf. I knocked on the crust--it had that lovely deep sound a good crusty loaf should have. The outside was a beautifully burnished colour and he crumb was soft and yielding. Fresh, it's delicious with butter and jam. Cut into thick batons and lightly toasted, it's fabulous dunked into (Nigella's) Oeufs en Cocotte.
To read what the other DBs did with this challenge, take a meander through our blogroll.
cheers!
jasmine
That’s the sound of me, in hot pursuit of that sometimes evasive beast, inspiration.
Several weeks ago I’d gotten it into my curly-mopped head that I wanted to bake birthday treats for My Most Marvellous Manager. Normally such adventures start out with me having a very clear picture in my mind’s eye. It can be a flavour, a texture, or a colour--anything that allows me to springboard into something, if not wondrous, then hopefully edible. This time…apart from the idea of baking something, I was at a total and utter loss.
I must admit, it’s rare that I find myself like this, itching to make something, but without a clue as to what. If it were just for me or a few, select souls, I’d just start weighing and pouring and grating and tearing open packets of fruits or nuts or candy. But it wasn’t just for me…t’would be bad form to give the person who approves your paycheque something indescribably experimental for his birthday…even though he is on my guinea pig list.
Off from my teetering shelves came the faithful tomes of inspiration: Nigella, Dorie, Edna, Julia…
Flickaflicka flick flick.
Magazines, newspaper clippings, printouts from online recipes.
Flickaflicka flick flick.
Nothing.
Favourite and talented foodbloggers.
Clickaclicka click click.
Gosh, you’d think I was searching for the a map to the world’s tastiest and ever-renewing truffle patch.
It’s not that I had some unreasonable self-imposed expectation that whatever it was, it had to be “perfect.” All I wanted it to be was tasty …and sortakinda pretty... How easy it is for me to spiral into a tizzy of mammoth proportions...all for want of a simple baked good.
What made me remember a skinny little spine, I don’t know. But I’m glad I did. Was it desperation or true enthusiasm that made me decide on Anna Olson’s Cocoa Cupcakes? I don’t know. And I don’t know if in such cases a) it matters or b) there’s a difference.
All I know is these little cakelets, with a softly chocolate flavour and a sweet and slightly sticky glaze, studded with silvery balls were exactly what needed to be made…along side an equal number of softly flavoured vanilla cupcakes.
cheers!
jasmine
In the corner of my dining room is a stack of seemingly abandoned books. They aren't shelved, but they aren't on their way to find a new home. This collection of new, never-flexed spines, made possible by a combination of generous publishers and my own hunger for specific authors, has been the bane of my culinary and blogging existences...to make matters worse, uppermost tome is blanketed by the thinnest layer of dust.
Guiltily, I've eyed my stack of new and neglected cookbooks for several weeks, some titles for months. Don't get me wrong--I wanted to read them, cook from them and write about them, but until very recently, I just couldn't.
Since getting back into the swing of things, these titles have beckoned me to frolic in their pages. I've resisted to a certain extent, simply because I didn't think I was up to the challenge of trying something new. That is, until I saw this month's Weekend Cookbook Challenge theme: Nigella Lawson, hosted by Foodiechickie.
How better to get me riffling through pages than by mentioning a favoured food writer?
In as much as I love pottering away in the kitchen, that really is a luxury. Life is busy, and although I don't have little ones running around, between work, sorting out Michael's possessions, getting the condo up and running, finishing my last course and all those things --and people--that pop up when you least expect, supper is usually a mad root through the fridge and pantry, hurriedly thrown together, with any leftovers boxed for the next day's lunch. This, of course results in me relying upon a few standbys--sandwiches, doctored soups and pastas--followed by one night of bulk cooking, well bulk enough to last two nights.
Nigella Express is meant for those of us who want delicious meals with relatively little effort. As the opening flap pronounces, "The Domestic Goddess is back and this time it's instant." That's not to say this is a book for the enamoured followers of "semi-homemade." Yes, she uses premade or boullioned broths and some recipes, such as Minestrone in Minutes call for "tomato-based pasta sauce of your choice" but her book isn't permeated with the pong associated by the TMs or (R)s in ingredients lists, as happens with certain other recipe scratchers.
Nigella's language is exquisite and encouraging. Her speedy Chocolate Croissants, made with store-bough puff pastry, starts with "First, let me say that if I can do this, you can. As I have never tried to hide, I have not patience and even less dexterity. But this is child's play..." The recipes are also written with speed in mind--instructions are short and you don't have to turn the page.
The book is divided into 13 chapters, each addressing a different express need, from everyday meals, quick breakfasts, speedy entertaining, holidays, make-ahead meals and quickly-made restoratives. Regardless of speed or reason, this book contains instructions for the food you want to eat.
Here's what I made. Where ever possible, I've linked to recipes. Please note, I have the UK version of the book--have learned to distrust conversions and "translations". If you are only to get the US version in your shop, you can order it (or many other UK imprints) online through amazon.co.uk, or Blackwell--I've used both in the past and have been extremely pleased.
Breakfast Bars p94
I knew I had to make these as my shopping trolley usually holds a box or two of granola or breakfast bars. Incredibly easy to put together. Yes, they take an hour to make, but I ended up with more than two weeks' worth of morning munchies. Sweet nutty and easily transportable. I've been using salvaged crumbs from my bar-butchering as an ice cream topper.
Pear and Ginger Muffins p 97
Yes, I know...two breakfast foods, but I generally find breakfast the meal I need most and the one I have the least amount of time for. The gingeryness gives the pear a zippy flavour and a happy morning snack food.
Oeufs en Cocotte p65
Is there anything simpler and more pleasurable than a baton of toasted bread dunked into squidgy, thickened and still-warm yolk? I luxuriated this a bit by adding a morel. All this in 15 minutes.
Buttermilk Roast Chicken p274
Roast chicken is a perennial favourite and chicken marinated in buttermilk even more so. I'm used to buttermilk poached chicken that's then fried, but the roasted version just as easily satiated my hunger.
If anything, Nigella Express reminds me that fast food doesn't have to be limiting to pasta and jarred sauce or a fried egg sandwich. Nor does it mean a Styrofoam box in my trash bin.
WCC25's mission was to cook from any of Nigella's books. And I've done my fair share of that. To see other Nigella recipes or -inspired foods I've conjured, click on this link.
cheers!
jasmine
I think it's a rare North American home cook who can claim to be pristine against the influence of the great Julia Child. I remember watching her show, The French Chef, as PBS repeats: her distinctive sing-songy voice teaching viewers how to make sauces or crêpes or beasts in a way that was very matter-of-fact, but approachable. More importantly, I thought she was having fun.
