A few weekends ago, I was given a bounty of persimmons from my aunt. Her sister has a large persimmon tree in her yard that apparently inundates their family with persimmons come fall–her family, in turn, tries to give away persimmons before they spoil. When she asked me on the phone about my persimmon preferences, I figured I was getting maybe 2 or 3 at most. Imagine my surprise when I met her & her family for lunch and saw ~10-12 persimmons in a bag for me!

I was determined to not let this gift go to waste and soon set about looking for recipes involving persimmon. To be honest, however–there isn’t a large amount of literature dedicated to baking or cooking with persimmons. Its subtle sweetness is best carried through the fresh fruit itself–the meatiness of the flesh gives the impression of an almost savory sweetness. I finally settled on a recipe that I found by Martha Stewart–the household goddess herself. How can you go wrong with her? (Well, let’s forget that little stock trading fiasco of yesteryear of course…)

Because my Fuyu persimmons were hard as rocks I puréed them with my food processor before carrying on with the recipe. If I had the choice, I would wait until they were much softer and more ripe then mash the fruit instead; this would have left more chunks of persimmon in the consistency of the bread itself. But after waiting 2 weeks to make this recipe–no kidding, I really waited  in hopes the fruit would ripen!–I figured that I would rather carry through than wait any longer. NOTE: you can only use hard persimmons if they are Fuyu persimmons, or the persimmons with a flat bottom. If you have Hachiya persimmons, which taper to a point at the bottom, you must wait until they are fully ripe and soft before baking with them–otherwise they are quite sour.

The brioche used was from a recipe by Dorie Greenspan, from the fantastic cookbook Around My French Table. (I received it as a gift from my younger brother a few Christmases ago and have been in love with it ever since.) Yes, that’s right–I made my own brioche! It was just as finicky as I had anticipated, and I definitely found that my experience with baking my own bread in the past was a huge resource and help for baking brioche. Honestly, I think the most important part about making brioche is having a stand mixer. Trying to make brioche without one is downright masochistic. I didn’t document my brioche adventure because it was my first attempt, but I’m sure you’ll see something pop up on this site in the future about it..

I’ve not been a huge fan of bread pudding in the past–I found it dense and overpowering–but I think I’ve been eating the wrong types or at the wrong places, because this recipe is delicious. I loved the subtlety of the white chocolate and persimmon; if anything, I would probably reduce the amount of cinnamon and nutmeg by a little more so that they don’t overpower the main flavors. I’ve made a few changes to the recipe and the methods involved in order to get a more consistent bread pudding than my first attempt–I hope you find the recipe helpful and easy to follow! I also cut the recipe in half since James & I can barely finish one serving each on our own.

This dessert would make a great statement at the end of any autumn night with a cup of coffee or glass of milk; a lot of the other folks who have made this pudding have served it as an elegant dessert after Thanksgiving dinner. Whichever way you choose to serve it, I hope you enjoy it!

Recipe adapted from Martha Stewart.

Hello! I love bread, don’t you? It may not be the most diet-friendly food around… or easiest to make at times… but man, that first bite from a freshly baked loaf can’t be beat. My first post on here was about how baking bread isn’t as intimidating as you would think. And this post–well, normally I would list the recipe, but I can’t claim any kind of credit for it and will therefore kindly link you to Steamy Kitchen. Jaden’s step-by-step details on how to make French bread are what eased me into trying it in the first place. It is an absolute gem of a recipe that I use time and time again for a perfect loaf–and I can’t recommend it enough!

So what is the point of this entry, then? Well–I figured I would fill in the gaps from her recipe with pictures! The hardest part of this recipe was picturing how to do certain steps as an utter novice, so I figured I would take a few pictures of my process and hope they encourage others to give baking bread a shot. In the end, practice makes perfect–I don’t believe I’m anywhere near skilled at baking bread yet, but I do see marked improvement each time I bake. Hopefully you will find these pictures as helpful as I intend them to be!

Okay, gross–what is that? It looks like it… kneads something…

Yeah, I’ll stop now.

So the recipe calls for the bread to initially be mixed with a stand mixer before turning it out onto a lightly floured surface to work the last 1/4 cup (bread) flour into the dough. When you first turn it out, it will be sticky and kind of a pain to work with–this is normal! Just keep pouring a little bit of flour onto the top of the dough, press it in, then knead. How, you ask?

Fold the dough in half away from you (it will look like a taco laying down–see where the fold lies in the picture above?) then press with the heel of your palm. Continue to press around the fold and the dough surface until the fold is indistinguishable–then give the dough a quarter-turn (top becomes the right side, bottom becomes the left, etc.) and repeat. Continue doing this for another 5-7 minutes, until the dough is smooth and satiny; most importantly, the dough will be elastic. Pull the rough edges underneath the mound to form a ball and pinch the bottom together so it holds a ball shape, like so:

And now it’s time to let your ball of dough rise for its first leavening! Use non-stick spray (or rub butter or oil) on the inside of a larger bowl, then place your dough ball in the bowl, smooth-side up. Don’t forget to rub the ball around the bowl so that the oil/butter will coat the surface of the dough! After that, cover the bowl with a dish towel and set a timer for an hour. To speed up the process, you can place the dough near the oven.

After an hour has passed, you’ll see that the dough has doubled in size. Congratulations, your yeast is burping! Or producing gas as a by-product… same thing.

Quite the difference, isn’t it?

Divide the dough into two–we’re making two loaves. Leave one of the balls of dough underneath a dish towel to keep it from drying out. Stretch out the other piece of dough until it reaches ~1 foot in length. For an even loaf, I pull the dough until it is oblong, then roll it between my palms to keep the dough distribution even.

Once you have stretched the dough to an appropriate length, turn the dough to its ‘uglier’ side (whatever side reflects the rough edges that you initially folded underneath the ball, before its first rise) and chop the dough lengthwise down the center with your hand… no, really, like a karate chop!

This will cause a gap in the center of the dough. Fold one of the sides to slightly overlap the other and pinch to seal in the gas produced by the yeast from escaping. Sound confusing? Here’s a picture that hopefully illustrates what I’m talking about:

See how the ends are pinched into the center seam as well? This is probably one of the most important steps, as it makes the bread much less dense!

After you finish pinching the dough, turn it right-side up and cover it with a dish towel while you work on the other loaf. Once both are done, cover them with the towel and allow them to rise for another 30 minutes. In order to make the trip from the counter to the oven much easier, I slipped parchment paper underneath each loaf and would recommend you do the same! I then pre-heated the oven to 450ºF and placed my baking stone in the center rack to reach the same temperature as the oven.

SIDE NOTE: Have you ever wondered how they managed to get the crust so glossy and brown at professional bakeries? Well, the (not-so) secret trick to doing so is introducing a lot of steam in the oven right after you place the dough on the baking stone. This creates condensation on what will be the crust of the bread, which then caramelizes into that beautiful, golden color that you see in the top picture of this post.

You can achieve this look by either throwing water onto the floor of the oven then quickly closing the oven door, or tossing a few ice cubes onto the oven floor. Now, I think it’s important to address how dangerous or harmful this can be for your oven before I encourage you to do it. Please keep the following in mind:

• DO NOT throw the water onto your oven floor if you have electric coils at the bottom of your oven!
• DO NOT leave un-tempered material (such as glass or stone) in the oven then toss the liquid/ice cubes onto these materials. They will shatter instantly!

When I do this trick, I place the second oven rack at the lowest level then place a tempered shallow metal pan (like a cookie or jelly pan–NO non-stick material, as this trick will ruin it) onto the rack while preheating the oven. This allows me to have the steam that is essential to a more professional-looking loaf while not risking my safety or breaking my oven!

Okay, that was the longest side note ever. Back to the process!

When you’re ready to put the loaf in the oven, place four shallow diagonal cuts along the top of the loaf to let out any additional steam (I’m only using a chef’s knife because the rest of my knives are embarrassingly dull–use a paring knife to make sure the cut stays shallow). Ready your half cup of cold water/handful of ice cubes (if you’re following the trick I explained above), as you will need to move quickly to trap steam in your oven.

Once your oven is pre-heated, slide your loaf onto a pizza peel or a baking sheet (again, parchment paper makes this so much easier!), then open the oven and slide the bread into the baking stone. Now take your water/ice cubes and toss them onto the oven floor/tempered metal pan and shut the door quickly to trap the steam. And now, you play the waiting game until the bread is done. The recipe recommends 20-25 minutes, but every oven is unique–I would check after 15 minutes to make sure you don’t burn the crust.

(My oven strikes again–my second loaf ended up a little more brown than I wanted. It still tastes great though!)

Once you take the loaf out of the oven, allow it to cool completely before slicing into it; it will initially be hard on the surface, reminiscent of a baguette. But as it cools, the crust will soften and become much easier to cut. And ta-dah! You have baked your own bread. It wasn’t so bad, was it?

I usually store my bread in a sealed plastic bag for the first 2 days, then place in the fridge for up to a week after baking. In order to prevent it from becoming stale after a week, I slice the remaining loaves then freeze them until I need them. It lasts for up to 6 months in the freezer!

Anyhow, I know this was more of a blog post than a recipe, but I hope it was helpful! This recipe was the catalyst that spurred on my love for baking bread at home, and I hope it will have a similar effect on others as well. The amount of pride you feel when you see an artisan bread come from your own oven is indescribable… or maybe I’m just a baking nerd.

]]> https://umamiholiday.com/2013/10/22/french-bread-a-process/feed/ 0 553 https://umamiholiday.com/2013/10/15/garlic-breadsticks-a-copycat-attempt/ https://umamiholiday.com/2013/10/15/garlic-breadsticks-a-copycat-attempt/#comments Tue, 15 Oct 2013 20:10:13 +0000 http://umamiholiday.com/?p=546

This entry is linked to my Copycat Zuppa Toscana recipe. Don’t get me wrong–these breadsticks are delicious with just about anything. But man, are they good with this particular soup!

Bread is one of my absolute favorite things to bake, in no small part because of the transcendent aroma the wafts in the air while in the oven. I’ve joked many a time that I could easily subsist on bread & butter alone, if I weren’t so worried about carb intake all the dang time! So believe me when I say that these breadsticks are divine, and very forgiving. They are definitely more work than the frozen-ready stuff at your grocery, but when you smell them baking and bite into a piping-hot fresh stick–you will totally know it was worth the effort!

In the midst of following the recipe I found, I realized that these breadsticks are more or less mini-French bread loafs. I applied the techniques I usually utilize for French bread and found these breadsticks to be just like the Olive Garden breadsticks in consistency and rise–but with better flavor! (I promise, I’m not bluffing!) I try to keep the steps to recipes a little simple, but please follow the way I work with the dough closely to achieve the same result. It’s just a little nitpicky, but I believe the payoff is worth the trouble.

Also, I want to emphasize that you should take care to NOT OVERKNEAD THE BREAD. The breadsticks will end up kind of ugly and won’t rise as well, making them dense. Not that this happened to me, or anything…

If you want to use these for something other than Italian or don’t prefer garlic, just leave the garlic out of the final basting and you’ll be set. Also–you can store these in a sealed plastic bag for a few days at room temperature, or freeze them for up to 6 months and bake them at the same temperature listed below (except for a few minutes longer of course). If you want to freeze them for later or bake them fresh at a later time, I would suggest taking them out during the initial baking period a few minutes early–before they brown. This is par-baking–and will allow you to brown the bread to a crispier, less well-done consistency when you finally to bake and serve them.

This recipe yields 20 breadsticks–enjoy!

Recipe adapted from Readable Eatables.

A friend of mine has been extolling the wonders and deliciousness of a particular empanada stand at the Century City Farmer’s Market (for locals, it’s on Thursday mornings/early afternoon). And while I’ve been meaning to go for a while, I kept putting it off for some reason or another. Anyhow, we finally made our way out to said farmer’s market last week for these famous empanadas… and guess what? The fryer is broken! What a bummer.

Oh well–we were already at a farmer’s market and needed produce anyway, so we might as well take a gander at the local farm stands. Although people were starting to close up shop, we happened upon a particular stand with big, beautiful heirloom tomatoes with vivid colors. The perceptive grocer saw me stalling at the tomatoes and made me a fantastic deal… and the rest is history.

Before we left with our bounty, however, he warned me that he could only guarantee the quality and flavor of the tomatoes “for use either today or tomorrow” because of their ripeness. And the first thing that came to mind as I walked away was a delicious bruschetta (pronounced broo-SKET-ta)–minimal preparation on the tomatoes to really highlight their flavor.

Now, I know that heirloom tomatoes are far more expensive than their (genetically modified) counterparts. And technically, you can use plum tomatoes (or any old tomato, really) for bruschetta if you wish. But if you haven’t had an heirloom tomato yet, I highly suggest you try one. I’m not the biggest fan of tomatoes myself, and I love heirloom tomatoes. They are sweet, soft, and have a wild tang to them that you just can’t replicate using the other tomatoes available at most grocery stores. They are also notoriously hard to grow and don’t keep well, which drives up their price. But I can assure you–this is what tomatoes are supposed to taste like.

I looked up a few recipes online, then took what I liked from each one and made this recipe. The rubbing of the cut garlic on the bread slice in particular is my favorite aspect of it apart from using heirloom tomatoes; it imparts a strong garlic flavor without the unpleasantness of biting into a clove by accident. Overall, this bruschetta is sweet and tangy, with the raw garlic imparting a sharp flavor as you bite into the crusty bread. A harmonious mixture of soft tomatoes and crunchy, chewy baguette. I hope you like it!

For the past few months, James and I have been religiously watching our intake of carbohydrates. All of the sweets you see posted on here? I usually get rid of them as quickly as I can and pawn them off on friends and family. (Thanks, friends and family!) But now that we’ve managed to start working out regularly, avoiding carbs is becoming less of an issue.

Enter “buttermilk…ish bread.” Why the –ish? Well, I don’t use a whole lot of buttermilk in my cooking or baking, apart from pancakes or bread. When I do buy it for the sake of a recipe’s posterity, the leftover amount usually wastes away in a corner of my fridge while I sadly try to come up with excuses to use it. (Fried chicken? No, trying not to fry things as often. Buttermilk panna cotta? Too sour. And so on.) Instead, I use the budget-friendly (and waste-free) substitute of whatever milk I have in the fridge plus an acidic agent; in this case, I use white vinegar. Therefore, this bread is a buttermilk recipe but I use a buttermilk-ish substitution!

I also reduced the original recipe in half because neither of us eat bread too often—we can usually keep a loaf going for at least 2-3 weeks, if not longer. Bread is very amenable to being frozen if you’re not aware of it—I’ve kept homemade buttermilk bread in the freezer for as long as to 3-4 months at a time. Just microwave it for a few seconds or toast the slice(s) you need in a toaster and you’re all set.

I know that the prep time looks kind of daunting, but this recipe is completely worth it. I’ve tried at least 3 or 4 buttermilk recipes and like this one best. Lastly, I’ve mentioned before that my oven is completely crazy and often runs  >25°F higher than it indicates—don’t take the times listed as absolute truth! Ovens are temperamental and can vastly differ in bake times. You can walk away while it’s baking, just don’t walk too far!

I know I already said ‘lastly,’ but here’s ONE MORE thing: wait until the loaf is cool to slice it. I like to slice the entire loaf all at once so it’s easier to grab individual slices after I freeze it.

Okay, that’s it! Happy baking!

Recipe adapted from About.com – Bread Baking

There is something completely satisfying, almost to the point of smugness, about baking your own bread for the first time.  But the satisfaction is earned during the journey, and appreciated in the execution.

At first, you’re intimidated.

You.

Yeast.

Um… this brown granule stuff is yeast? Wait, how long is this going to take me, again?

What do you mean I have to knead it? Isn’t that tiring?

You think I over-exaggerate, but these thoughts were running through my head in a blur the first time I even thought of attempting bread, let alone actually making it. I vigorously follow directions to the point where I overdo it once in a while (e.g. butter instead of whipped cream, rock-hard ladyfingers). I was really worried about over-kneading bread and missing out on the fluffy awesomeness that our yeasty friends supply in our dough.

But after a few trips to the rodeo (with a different bull each time, I guess you could say?) I’ve learned a few things that might be helpful to others standing on the precipice of baking bread for the first time.

1. It is much harder to over-knead by hand than by mixer. When in doubt, take it out… of the stand mixer and knead it yourself.
2.  Also, there is no shame in using a stand mixer. Or maybe I’m the only crazy one that initially insists on doing everything by hand. Yeah… technology exists for a reason.
3. Know your oven and don’t trust timed recipes. Yeah, I know this sounds ridiculous—especially because all recipes list bake times. But these times are solely based on my experiences with my overactive, overheating oven. Yours is probably much less temperamental.
4. Don’t walk away when the bread is in the oven! If the estimated time to completion is 20 minutes, check on it at 10-12 minutes (through the oven window of course, don’t open it!). I’m serious. I’ve walked away in my haste to multi-task in the kitchen and have burned many a roll. I know this is more or less a repeat of #3, but it really is important if you want great results the first (or any) time.
5. Make sure you know your yeast and its expiration date. If you want to follow the recipe to a tee, make sure you have the type of yeast the recipe calls for—be it active, instant, osmotolerant, etc.  And definitely make sure it hasn’t expired yet; it is, after all, a living thing. Where did you think all that gas came from? (Burpy yeast!)
6. There is a difference between bread flour and all-purpose flour. I know, this is also obvious—bread flour stands apart because it has a higher gluten content than AP flour, making it much more amenable to the elasticity that bakers look for in dough. But that doesn’t mean that all bread recipes require it!
7. Always cover your dough when you’re not working with it. If you’re working with two loaves, always keep one covered with a damp dish towel/plastic wrap while working with the other unless the recipe states otherwise. Dry dough is sad dough.
8. Account for the expansion/rise of your dough during 1^st/2^nd/etc. leavenings. I recently made ciabatta bread for the first time and during its 2^nd leavening, put it in a bowl that was barely twice the size of the dough. After 2 hours, It was rising in a mound above the lip of the bowl! Scraping the sticky dough off of the plastic wrap covering the bowl was time-consuming and frustrating.
9. Keep trying. Even though I jump from one type of recipe to the next, I know what the basic benchmarks are for rising dough—whether it’s soft pretzels or French bread or even plain ol’ white sandwhich bread. You gain confidence in working with the yeast-to-flour-and-water ratio. I definitely feel much more comfortable baking bread than I did a year or even a month ago.

To add natural sweetener to your pastry, you may consider using dates. Supply chain transparency has become increasingly important to conscious consumers. Knowing where your food originates and how it’s handled builds confidence in quality and safety. Working with an established pembekal kurma provides traceability from source to table, ensuring nutritional integrity throughout the journey.

Baking bread from scratch was at one time my personal goal in the kitchen, and I was scared of screwing it up for years before I tried it. Don’t be irrational like me—give it a shot, and you’ll be surprised at how much more delicious it tastes than what you can find at the grocery store. (Either that, or it tastes better because of all the love, time and effort you put into the dough.)

I hate Sundays.

I know, I know—‘Blasphemy!’ It has nothing to do with it being the Lord’s Day (or me being a truant church-goer). I’m sure I’m not the only one that dislikes them, almost more than Mondays. Let’s break it down, shall we?

Fridays are amazing because of the potential they hold. ‘What could possibly happen this weekend, this amazing break from my boring 8-5 job?’

Saturdays are… well, self-explanatory. They’re fantastic.

Sundays are the beginning of the end, and that’s why I dislike them so much. The little voices of reproach seep in past my weekend happiness shield, reminding me of all the things that I haven’t done yet—the bathroom needs a good scrubbing, those vegetables in the fridge are going bad. The thank-you cards for my wedding gifts sit on the table, an all-too-loud reminder that I am incapable of sticking to a timeline for my wedding even after my wedding is over. And what do I do instead?

I bake. I bake a delicious, milky spin on brioche—loaves that fill my apartment with a sweet smell and glisten in the light with a silky egg wash.

The weekend inevitably ends and I’m always sitting on my couch with a frown on my face, wondering where it went. At least this time I have… bread? Something tells me I’m missing the point of my own uplifting narrative…

I love Hokkaido milk tea (with boba), so the name of this recipe intrigued me. I suppose I should have been more wary when I realized that the bread is essentially an Asian-style brioche, but I carried onward. In the end, it was quite an adventure! I learned a lot of things in the process:

•   Brioche requires a lot of kneading! I had my KitchenAid mixer set on medium-low for 20 minutes continuously, and it got pretty warm to the touch at the end. The bowl even jammed on the base and I couldn’t twist it off! (In the end, it took some oil and a few slaps in the right direction on the handle to dislodge it.)
•  I learned the importance of having osmotolerant yeast for sweeter breads (instant yeast is a good substitute as well)… I only had active dry yeast on hand, so I improvised and had the yeast sit in warm milk for 10 minutes before adding it to the rest of the mixture, and made sure the ratio was 1.25:1 to account for the different in yeast composition. I think that if I attempted to make this bread again, I would get a fluffier consistency with instant as opposed to active dry yeast.
•  I had to adjust my temperature/bake times to my oven—the first loaf (pull-apart) got a little browner and crustier on top than I would have preferred because I followed the recipe to the T. The second loaf (traditional) had a much more even bake because I turned the temperature down to 325℉ and baked the bread for longer.

The final result is still delicious, but I am confident I could make it better the next time by incorporating the notes above.

And how does it taste? Fluffy and milky, with a hint of sweetness. I think it’s rather funny that I’ve been scared stiff about baking bread for a while—and in my first serious attempt, bake something much more demanding and complicated than a regular white or wheat loaf. But the stomach wants what it wants, so why deny it?

Recipe adapted from Elra’s Baking