Posts filed under 'Bread'
Whole Wheat Pita Bread
I tinkered with the idea of doing a post today about Pulaski Day, a wholly Chicago holiday. All my friends from college who grew up in Chicago used to talk wistfully of the holiday. For one reason: growing up, this holiday awarded them with a day off from school. Apparently, schools have scaled back on that perk, but it’s still a government holiday. In honor of Casimir’s big day, I considered making Polish specialties like stuffed cabbage or pierogi. But, instead of making either of those two stuffed dishes, I made something decidedly unstuffed instead. I baked pita bread, known, of course, for it’s vacuous middle.
So, today it’s going to be less Pulaski and more pita. And, about baking pita bread, can I just say: cool. The whole process is not unlike baking any old loaf of bread. You proof the yeast, you let the dough rise, you knead. But, instead of a dense, solid loaf, you end up with puffed rounds. You place full moons of two-dimensional dough on your oven rack and, presto, you open the door a mere three (!) minutes later to find swollen, entirely three-dimensional breads. It’s as though little elves have injected each round with a poof of hot air.
(Click “more” for the rest of the story, more photos & the recipe.)
Recipe for Relaxation
I’m in the middle of law school final exams. My second-to-last set of final exams (I graduate in the spring) ever. With a final on Thursday night and Friday morning of last week, our kitchen didn’t see a whole lot of action. Add in a holiday party here and a night of running errands there, and the kitchen was downright neglected this week.
So, when my final was over yesterday morning, I did the only natural thing. No, I did not head straight to a bar, to bed or back to the books, like most law students would do. Rather, I headed into the neglected kitchen. I was greeted by some pretty meager refrigerator contents and an intense urge to create something. The leftover chicken carcass from our Hanukkah dinner and some veggies that were just this side of being tossed in the garbage spoke to me: chicken stock.
It was the perfect way to ease out of an intense week of studying and into the weekend (which, of course will contain more studying, but still — it’s the weekend). I’ve skimmed enough recipes in the past to get the gist of making chicken stock—throw veggies (usually carrots and onions, but leeks, celery or parsnips can’t hurt), herbs (thyme, bay leaves, etc) and some seasoning (I always roll my eyes at the recipes that call for “20 black peppercorns”) into a gigantic pot with a chicken carcass or parts. Fill the pot with enough water to cover the contents and set it a-simmering for four hours. In less than a half an hour, I had put the kitchen back to use and had the house smelling savory and delicious. Then, it was back to the books.
Throwing Caution to the Wind
Yesterday, we hosted Kevin’s family for a Hanukkah dinner. Maybe because I was dreading the latkes (tried them for the first time last year and, well, they were less than a hit), I had a wonderful time putting together the rest of the menu. The meal would be starring Zuni Roasted Chicken, per Kevin’s request, and, while it would be the perfect anchor to the dinner, I’ve made it a million times. So I hunted for a couple of new, fun challenges (latkes, while certainly a challenge, are not my idea of fun). Of the new recipes I selected, I was most excited to make challah. It’s a bread that I find beautiful, with its golden braided strands, but very often dry and disappointing. I was certain I could find a recipe that would make the bread live up to its appearance.
Two small hitches. First, I didn’t have a tried-and-true recipe and I was a little short on time for searching for one (in other words, I couldn’t go to the library or Barnes & Noble to scour the cookbooks in search of the challah authority). No, the Internet would have to do. The one I chose came not from a trusty recipe resevoir, full of reviews and tips, but from a Flickr page. Her picture looked that good.
If you think that plucking a totally unverified recipe off the Internet was reckless, wait until you hear about the second hitch. Not only have I never made challah, but—brace yourself—I’ve never made bread. Oh sure, I’ve made crusts and doughs and quickbreads aplenty, but I’ve never made a loaf of yeasty bread from scratch. Why not start on a day when you are cooking dinner for seven people and should be studying for finals? Great idea.
So, I threw caution to the wind and went for it. And when I pulled these loaves from the oven, I have never felt so vindicated in my life. I’m pretty sure that they are the most gorgeous things I’ve ever made: golden, shiny, swollen. And they are braided. It was almost too much. Before we even tore into them, the scent and texture of the loaves assured me they would be delicious. And they were: a hint of egg from the crust and sweetness from the supple, dense inside. This kitchen risk definitely paid off.