Apples: Pressing, Cider, Vinegar, Pectin, Crisp.

Last Thursday, my Parents, Kiddo and I went to Weston's Antique Apple Orchard. I have been buying apples from them at the West Allis Farmer's Market for several years; they have been a vendor there for 45 seasons. I never thought of looking to see if they had a website until I learned that I inherited my Gram's apple press, and I needed a good urban source for great apples. I called and spoke with a older man, who informed me good-natured-ly that I'd interrupted his nap, "Since I'm retired!" he'd said. I told him it was our first year with a press, and we just wanted to do a couple of bushels of apples to see about approximate yield and ease of the workload. We negotiated a price for windfalls, and I figured that any price would be worth seeing the land where some of the most exotic apples I've ever tasted have grown for generations.

Even though I'd called back the cell phone number he gave me, I wasn't entirely certain that we would find anyone at this antique orchard when we drove out in my Dad's truck on Thursday. But fortunately we found a sole worker: a middle-aged man in heavily patched pants and a lifting belt who had been debriefed about me and my desire for 2 bushels of apples. A talkative man, he explained that the orchard's brother and sister team worked 7 days a week with just a few helpers like him. He mentioned they were both notoriously difficult to get a hold of, and that we could pay him and then just walk around in the orchard and see which trees had fresh fallen apples. "If you wonder what they taste like, just find one on the tree, shine it up on your shirt, and try one," he reminded us. And we did. Some hard, yellow and tart, leather skinned and bursting with autumnal dryness, others as sweet as honey, plum colored and snowy white inside - the apples the witch likely offered the gullible Snow White.

We spent a hour or so wandering around collecting the bounty of fruits under some trees that seemed perfectly perfect, reminding my Kiddo to show us each apple before tossing it in the bushel basket in case it was buggy or bruised. I had wished the whole while I hadn't already done my applesauce with budget (but perfectly serviceable) apples from the farmer's market. My Mom was more excited that I was, we tried many types and each one distinct and almost unreal. Antique apples are the way to go. If you have a few minutes, just read about some of the unusual varieties that are grown at Weston's Orchard.

My Dad had brought baskets for us to use, those mysterious things that never seem to wear out and have appeared from nowhere. My Parents have all sorts of gardening baskets like that, old wired things with history that just seem immortal. The press was really something too. My Gram had an apple tree in her yard that was extremely prolific most years. We never knew which variety it was, but it was on the tart side and made the best sauce. There was always enough fruit for anyone who wanted any. She hadn't had the press for that many years, but my Dad cleaned it up thoroughly and carted it down here just so we could try this experiment that none of us expected to be so life changing.

In less than an hour, we had pressed our 2 bushels (less the amount my Mom took home for pies, and a couple of pounds that she left me for eating). My Mom washed each apple in the kitchen sink, her nurse's credo preventing her from just hosing them off outdoors like my Dad and I figured would be fine. The press is amazingly efficient, and when we weren't even half done, we had agreed that next year we have to have a family pressing out at the farm. The mess was actually minimal compared to what I thought, we hauled most of the expired, squeeze-dried fruit to my compost bin and I saved one 8 quart bucketful to make pectin with. I am letting it drip now as I write, and will pick up some rubbing alcohol later this morning to see if it gels. To test if the pectin is developed, you mix 1 t. of pectin with 2 t. rubbing alcohol. If it forms a solid mass that can be lifted up with a fork, the pectin has enough gelling power.

I made my pectin according to Linda Ziedrich and several other concurring sources online. For every pound of fruit in a large, covered pot, add two cups of water and bring to a boil. Cover and simmer for 20 minutes, then drain through a jelly bag for at least 4 hours. Return the juice to the pot, and boil it rapidly to reduce by half. It can be stored in the freezer, or water bath processed for 10 minutes for shelf stability.

pulp, for pectin.

ready to press.

I also threw together an apple crisp this morning. I seem to never follow the same method twice when making fruit crisps this year. I didn't skin my beautiful apples, I added perhaps too much ground ginger, a tablespoon each of flour and brown sugar, and topped it off with a crisp topping which I had leftover in the freezer. I like a lot of different crumble toppings, but this one was fairly exceptional. It could be because it has a fair amount of butter in it, but I mix it up in a snap, adding everything including the yogurt to the food processor. Unlike Heidi, I don't even melt the butter, I just pulse it with the flour a few times before adding the oats. I also like to add about 1/2 c. of nuts - walnuts are a favorite of mine with apples. I usually mix up a double batch, and eyeball how much I want to include on top of a makeshift crisp. It does also freeze well.

Crisp Topping (adapted from 101 Cookbooks)

• 3/4 cup white whole wheat flour, AP flour, or whole wheat flour
  
• 1/3 c. butter, cut into tablespoons
• 3/4 c. rolled oats
• up to 1/2 c. brown sugar or cane sugar
• 1/2 c. walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts, or other (optional)
  
• 1/2 t. or more cinnamon
• pinch of salt
• 1/3 c. plain yogurt

In the bowl of a food processor, combine flour and butter. Pulse several times until the butter is the size of tiny peas. Add the rest of the ingredients except the yogurt and pulse to combine into a uniform texture. Add yogurt, pulse once or twice to incorporate. Use right away, store in the fridge for a day, or freeze for impulse baking.

As soon as the amber colored cider made it's way down to the waiting bucket, we all stood mesmerized, as if we had no idea that apples under pressure would indeed give up their juice. It's silly really, all of us so excited that we took little cups and stood in the crisp air drinking the best cider we've ever tasted - probably the best since we went through so much work to get it. It was so sweet, thick, tart and refreshing. We got about 4 precious gallons of cider all accounting, and we split it up pretty evenly. We let it sit to rest for several hours, and then I ladled it into jugs and canning jars - setting some aside a little more than a half gallon right away to try and open ferment for eventual vinegar. We didn't filter it into oblivion like we had seen recommended - all of us agreed that having a little sediment was perfectly fine with us.

I have had my issues with vinegar. Making "mock" flavored vinegars (out of Bragg's cider vinegar) this summer made me feel a little better, but like I've said before I felt like I was cheating. This easiest thing seems to be a great challenge for me, and I suspected that I could easily waste my good-as-gold cider trying to ferment and then vinegarize it. Fortunately, yesterday morning, I saw the bubbles of fermentation first appear. This morning, the foam is about a half inch thick, and I suspect in a couple of days I'll be able to strain it into clean jars and inoculate it with mother. Meanwhile, my other quarts of cider are in the fridge waiting to see if their fate will also be vinegar. It is my sincere hope that I can get at least a gallon of homemade cider vinegar, and I don't want to jinx myself, but it looks as if I may be on my way toward that goal.

Every time we visit, I remember how insanely lucky I am to have such amazing Parents. They get every bit as excited as I do for good food and hard work, experimenting and being together with family. As I helped my Dad hoist that press back up onto his truck (and I didn't think that I'd be able to lift it, maybe I need to start a weigh lifting regimen...), I knew exactly where I get all my quirky obsessions and experiments from. The press traveled 500 miles to my house and another 180 back to the Farm, where it will over-winter in their ample garage or outbuilding until next apple season when we will meet there and be as excited again to see such an amazingly simple thing as cider drip casually from an iron and wooden press directly into our waiting cups. In those moments of simple pleasures, I feel so full up with appreciation for life and the sweet tart of it that I can not really express it. What an amazing way to enter the Thanksgiving season.

Daring Baker Challenge October 2011: Povitica

The Daring Baker’s October 2011 challenge was Povitica, hosted by Jenni of The Gingered Whisk. Povitica is a traditional Eastern European Dessert Bread that is as lovely to look at as it is to eat!

I once again somehow managed to wait until the very last minute to complete this month's challenge, but it worked out well since my Parents were coming down for a visit. I pulled it out of the oven just as they were pulling into the driveway on Wednesday - and it seemed like a long few hours for it to cool completely so we could cut in and see what it looked like.

When I saw the title of the challenge reveal, I immediately wondered if it was of Croatian desent. One of my best friends is from Croatia, and what little world travel I have done has actually taken me there firsthand. While Saša had never heard of Povitica, which is actually a Serbian word, her Grandmother made a similar rolled bread called Orehnjača. She typically rolled it with walnut or carob filling, and she made it throughout the year, not just for Christmas or other holidays.

I can see why a bread of this type could be enjoyed only for special occasions, but it actually wasn't too difficult. It is maybe a more tedious endeavor since the dough needs to be rolled so thinly, but it is such a nice dough, this isn't a nerve-wracking accomplishment. Since I enjoy making yeast breads anyway, I can see making this elegant bread throughout the colder weather seasons to enjoy with coffee or tea. It's a soft, moist loaf that I almost wanted to be sweeter (maybe because of it's similarity to a cinnamon roll in appearance), and everyone liked it, including my Husband. It's certainly a bread to make if you are looking to impress!

This is the first time I made such a rolled dough bread, but I have made similar others that weren't nearly as layered as this one. Though complex in appearance, the dough is actually a simple enriched egg and milk bread, silky and strong enough to roll nearly paper thin before spreading with a walnut filling. The instructions said to roll it as thin as possible, and when you think it has been rolled thin enough, to roll a bit thinner. I did this, surprised that the dough was strong enough to resist tearing. It felt like fabric, gently wrinkled from my floured muslin beneath it.

I ground my walnuts fairly fine, but after I added the butter, milk, and egg yolk to turn it into a paste, it wasn't nearly fine enough. I decided last minute to puree it in the Vitamix, and I was happy then with the texture. I added quite a bit more milk (and a little extra cinnamon and cocoa powder for personal preference) to get it to a spreadable consistency too. It took just a little bit of time to get it to spread out on the rolled dough. The dough was so thin that it wanted to buckle, but when I gingerly made use of an offset spatula, I had good luck.

As I did in last month's challenge, I watched a video showing the procedure before beginning. This was very helpful, since I pretty much absorbed that technique of rolling and panning the bread. It also gave me an idea of the consistency of the filling. Had I left my filling more textured, I think I'd have had trouble with the bread maintaining its shape after baking.

The recipe we were provided yielded 4 loaves, but I only made one loaf. The amounts listed below are the amounts I used for one loaf. Find the original recipe here at the Daring Kitchen.

To activate the yeast:

• 1/2 t. sugar
• 1/4 t. AP flour
• 2 T. warm water
• 1½ t. active dry yeast

Dough:

• ½ Cup (120 ml) Whole Milk
• 3 T. (43 gm) Sugar
• ¾ t. salt
• 1 Large Egg
• 2 T. (30 gm/1 oz) unsalted butter, melted
• 2 cups (280 gm) AP flour, measure first then sift, divided

Filling Ingredients:

• 1¾ c. (280 gm/10 oz.) ground walnuts (I measured first, then ground in the Vitamix)
• ¼ c. (60 ml) milk (I used 2%)
• ¼ c. (60 ml/58 gm/½ stick/2 oz) unsalted butter
  
• 1 large egg yolk, beaten
• ¼ t. vanilla extract
• ½ c. (115 gm/4 oz) sugar
• 1 t. cocoa powder (I increased to taste, probably more like 2 t.)
  
• 1 t. cinnamon (I increased to taste, also about 2 t.)

Topping:

• 1 egg white, beaten
• 2 T. sugar
  
• melted butter, for brushing on the top after baking

Activate the yeast by mixing the ingredients in a small dish, let stand 10 minutes.

To make the dough, heat the milk up to just below boiling in a medium sized saucepan, stirring constantly so that a film does not form on the top of the milk. You want it hot enough to scald you, but not boiling. Allow to cool slightly, until it is about 110°F/43°C.

In a large bowl, mix the scalded milk, sugar, and the salt until combined. Add the beaten eggs, yeast mixture, melted butter, and 2 cups of flour. Blend thoroughly, then turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead, gradually adding a bit of additional flour a little at a time, until the dough is smooth and does not stick. The dough should feel soft, and not sticky at all.

Place dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover loosely with a layer of plastic wrap and then a kitchen towel, and let rise an hour and a half in a warm place, until doubled in size.

Meanwhile, make the nut filling. In a large bowl mix together the ground walnuts, sugar, cinnamon and cocoa. Heat the milk and butter to boiling. Pour the liquid over the nut/sugar mixture. Add the egg yolk and vanilla and mix thoroughly. Allow to stand at room temperature until ready to be spread on the dough. (If the mixture thickens, add more milk - enough so that the dough is easily spreadable on the dough.)

After the dough has completed the first rise, spread a clean sheet or cloth (non-pilling) over your entire table so that it is covered. I used a large piece of unbleached muslin. Sprinkle it with a couple of tablespoons to a handful of flour (use flour sparingly), and rub into fabric to prevent the dough from sticking. Place the dough on the fabric and roll the dough out with a rolling pin, starting in the middle and working your way out, until it is very thin. Aim for as thin as you can roll it, and try to keep the shape as rectangular as possible. (As you work, continually pick up the dough from the table, not only to help in stretching it out, but also to make sure that it isn’t sticking. When you think it the dough is thin enough, try to get it a little thinner. It should be so thin that you can see the color and perhaps the pattern of the sheet underneath.)

Spoon filling evenly over dough and spread in a thin layer. Leave a 1/4 to 1/2 inch border around the edges. Using the fabric to help, roll up the dough like a jelly roll into a long rope. Place the rope in a well buttered pan using the method described in the video as I did, or in a modified "U" shape as the challenge host did. Brush the top of the coiled loaf with the egg white, and sprinkle the 2 T. of sugar on in a uniform manner. Let rest, lightly covered with plastic wrap, for 30 minutes when the oven preheats to 350.

Remove plastic wrap from dough and place into the preheated oven and bake for 15 minutes. Turn down the oven temperature to 300, and bake for an additional 45 minutes, or until done. (Tapping on the top of the bread should sound hollow, crust should be nicely browned.) (Check the bread at 30 minutes to be sure it's not getting too brown. You may cover it with foil if you need to.)

Remove bread from oven and brush with melted butter. Allow to cool completely in the pan before trying to remove. Remember the bread is very heavy, and it needs to be able to hold its own weight, which is difficult when it's warm and fresh from the oven. Allowing it to cool in the pan helps the loaf to hold its shape.

It is recommended that the best way to cut Povitica loaves into slices is by turning the loaf upside down and slicing with a serrated knife.

During last month's challenge, I lamented that the only rolling pin I had was the one that Julia Child had casually tossed over her shoulder and discounted as useless. Between then and now, I inherited my great grandmothers full size, heavy maple pin, and it did work wonders with this project. I'm lucky to inherit such things with meaning and usefulness, the best kind of inheritance in my opinion...

When time is marked in Daring Baker Challenges, the months seem to fly by. This was a great choice for a challenge, maybe one of my favorites since I had never heard of it, and the results are so unique. I hope you will all pay Jenni a visit at The Gingered Whisk, as well as check out many more amazing adaptations of Povitica on the Daring Blogroll.

A New Direction and Ivy's Swedish Rye Crackers

I think it's curious that you can make almost anything from scratch, but nothing impresses people more than to tell them you made the crackers. It may be a preconceived notion that cracker origins are inexplicable: mystical, crisp things that elves or independent hippies in Vermont are lovingly packing into cardboard boxes. Maybe people consider that such things are not able to be made by human hands, but making preservative free, healthy snacks can become a rhythm backbone of the kitchen. Nothing is better than to open the pantry door and see a few jars of homemade crackers, fully deserving of your homemade dips, spreads, jams or jellies - things you can just pop out onto a plate when unexpected company arrives.

I really do enjoy making crackers, in fact I forgot how many different types I have tried and even posted about here until I searched 'crackers' in my blog search box on the right side of the page. I have some serious favorites, like the Gluten Free Multigrain Crackers or Alton Brown's Seedy Crisps - both of which are in regular rotation. Just as the school year began and I felt a lonely hole in my first few days of new solitary independence, my friend Deena emailed me and asked if I'd be interested in testing recipes, and if so if she might give my name to a friend of hers who was writing a cookbook all about crackers. I excitedly told her yes! Shortly after, I was acquainted with Ivy Manning, a cookbook author, recipe developer, and former Wisconsinite living now in Portland, Oregon.

Our first exchanges made me even more excited to be able to help. Ivy seemed oddly like me, living with a husband who is a "picky eater", fully passionate about food, and very busy. She began emailing me her recipes a few at a time, which I double checked for weights and volumes as I baked, and I tried to give her honest feedback about them. One of the first recipes I tested was for these slightly time consuming Swedish Rye Crackers - some that at the time I thought were good, but now they have grown on me so much I think I'll likely keep a batch around for emergencies on most occasions. They are very crisp, hard in fact, and they store like a dream. I've had the same batch in a half gallon canning jar for about a month and they only seem to improve. This week I ate them with a little of this incredible Walnut Lentil Pate, which I know I have mentioned before. As I ate them, I realized this cracker was the perfect pre-dinner munch, and they cemented my already warm feelings of rye flour.

Ivy decided not to use this version of Swedish Rye Crackers in her book, and granted me permission to post about them here, since I feel they deserve to have a special place in a cracker-maker's repertoire.

These are hard, crunchy crackers. If you are a fan of Rykrisp crackers or anything super crunchy, you will love them. Even though they have a good amount of rye flour, I feel like they are also distinctly wheaty in flavor. They are great for mopping up soup or mashed potatoes if you've forgotten the bread, and are good with jelly and peanut butter too - though personally I'd probably nix the caraway seeds if you plan on serving with something sweet.

Swedish Rye Crackers (Ivy Manning)
about 3 1/2 dozen crackers

• 2 1/2 t. active dry yeast
• 1 1/2 c. warm water
• 1 1/3 c. bread flour, plus additional for rolling
• 1 t. fine sea salt
• 2 1/3 c. rye flour
• 2 t. caraway seeds (I only put seeds on about half the batch, they are good with or without as you prefer)
• Kosher salt, for topping crackers

In the bowl of a stand mixer, or in a large mixing bowl, dissolve the yeast in the water. Add the bread flour, and beat with the paddle attachment on medium speed for 2 minutes, or 50 strokes with a wooden spoon if mixing by hand.

Stir in salt, and gradually add the rye flour. Beat on medium low speed for 4 minutes. If kneading by hand, transfer the dough to a large ziptop bag, squeeze out the air, seal bag, and knead for 6 minutes. Do not add additional flour. Turn the bag inside out to free the dough from the bag, it will be sticky.

Coat a large bowl with oil and add the dough. Cover with plastic wrap, and let the dough rise for 90 minutes in a warm place.

Preheat the oven to 375. Turn the dough out onto a lightly flour dusted surface and divide into three pieces. Gently pat the pieces into rectangles about 1/2 inch thick. Roll one piece of dough out until it's about 1/8 inch thick, picking up the dough and rotating it frequently to make sure it isn't sticking. using a pastry or pizza wheel, trim the irregular edges and cut the dough into 4x2 inch rectangles. Place them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Repeat with remaining dough to fill a second baking sheet. Prick the crackers all over with a chopstick, then spray them lightly with water, sprinkle with caraway seeds (if using) and press them in lightly so they will adhere. Cover loosely with plastic wrap, and set aside for 30 minutes. (You can re-roll the scraps once.)

Uncover the crackers and bake, rotating the sheets from top to bottom and front to back once during baking. Baking will take 25-35 minutes depending on the thinness of your cracker. (You can always take them out, and then re-bake them if you think they need to go longer.) The crackers should be browned around the edges, smell toasty, and be dry to the touch. Transfer to a cooling rack to cool completely, about 1 hour. Store in an airtight container for 2 weeks or longer...

(I baked a couple of 1/2 inch by 4 inch pieces of re-rolled dough scrap, and they puffed up hollow. Next time I make them, I may try cutting a whole tray full this way...)

So many times I wonder what I should be doing with myself. I really am content to be a homemaker, chronicling my adventures every so often so I can share some of my excitement with others. But sometimes I do get frustrated, I think I should be "gainfully employed", and then wonder what it is that I should be really be doing so that I can continue to enjoy myself as much as I have since I became a mother 5 years ago.

I know I'm not going to be the next Martha Stewart, but maybe I've found a niche in the behind the scenes of cookbook writing. This may be my first foray into this field, but it's one I hope I can figure out how to grow into more. It feels so good to see the the other side of the cookbook writing process, the amazing work that goes into it by an author, and the trials, successes and failures, and evolution of recipes. I have been reveling in cracker testing in part because it is a subject matter that is really appealing to me, but more because I feel good to be a bit unseen, a stealth baker who may just show up at your door with a little overflow of delicious kitchen bounty.

Now that Winter is on his way I feel I'll have so much more time to read, and I'm looking forward to reading more of Ivy's cookbooks: The Farm to Table Cookbook and The Adaptable Feast. Her book on crackers is scheduled for Spring 2013, but meanwhile you can find Ivy at her website. It's going to be a great book, just judging from my sneak peak testing... One recipe in particular I've made 3 times already, just because it was so delicious.

I look forward to the emails with little attachments, and like an archeologist who patiently brushes the sand away from stone bones, I have remember to discipline myself to follow instructions and be methodical. It's all a great lesson and learning experience, and I feel so thankful to have had it drop in my lap.

Fall Preserving: Grape Jellies and Other Tales of Grapeness

You may remember that this year I've been so inspired by Linda Ziedrich and her book The Joys of Jams, Jellies, and Other Sweet Preserves that I've made nearly all of my jams and jellies this year without commercial pectin. I love the textures of these preserves so much more than their boxed pectin counterparts, and because they usually have less sugar, the flavor of the fruit really seems to shine through in an exotic way.

I have loved her book so much, that all season I felt like I first procured the fruit, and then turned to the section discussing the fruit to decide what to do with it. When I got a half bushel of Concord grapes from my Parents, I had already earmarked enough grapes for one batch of boxed pectin-free jelly, an amount for drinking vinegar, and some for grape molasses.

I have never really heard of grape molasses, never have I tasted it or do I have any idea what the finished texture should be like. In fact, my finished product is still in a bowl in my fridge (about a week now), since I am still unsure what to do with it. It's riddled with tartaric acid crystals, but it is also thickened, almost "pulpy", and painfully grapey. There is no added sugar, so the grapeness of the grapes is just really intensified and luxurious. Just lifting the lid makes the air feel purple.

I may take it out later today and boil it down a little more, I may can some of it into small jars for gifts - or I may just keep it all in the fridge and commit to eating it over the next 6 months myself. Yesterday, I cooked down a grocery bag full of Cortland apples and turned them into sauce, I'm waiting until tomorrow to can it all. If I can find a definitive authority on the acidity of the Concord grape, I may add some to my pints of applesauce. The idea of purple applesauce is very exciting to me!

an old French food mill that my Mom gave me: how I derived my grape must for the grape molasses, since I have no fruit press.

With several fruits I've worked with this Summer, I've made a drinking vinegar that I have been in love with. So far the cherry vinegar is my favorite, but I have a feeling this grape vinegar will take a close second after I strain and sweeten it. I have used the same method for each fruit or berry, one outlined in the River Cottage Preserves Handbook. I don't cook down it into a more syrupy vinegar, instead I barely heat it - just enough to fully dissolve the sugar. Since I use raw apple cider vinegar, I am able to keep it raw this way. It's great on salad, but I have to admit, I really have just been drinking it 2 tablespoons at a time in sparkling water. (The elderberry version, I save for when I feel a cold coming on. I'm convinced that it shortens the duration of a cold or prevents it from fully forming altogether. When I took it 2 times a day after my first cold of the season was underway, my cold was gone completely after 2 days. I'm not making it up... and I hope it wasn't a fluke!)

To make it, soak 2 1/4 lbs. of fruit or berry in 2 1/2 c. of raw cider vinegar for 5-7 days. Strain out the fruit (I press it to get all the juices). For every cup of vinegar, add 1 c. of sugar and heat just enough to dissolve the sugar. Yes, it is sweet, but you don't need much to flavor a drink or a vegetable, and you can comfort yourself with the idea of consuming raw, healthful vinegar.

With the molasses and vinegars done, I turned to the natural pectin of green apple to make a spectacular small batch of grape jelly. The flavor is so clean and it's so gently sweet that I can't help but be smitten. I have a precious 3 jar batch, plus just a tad shy of a 4th full jar of runover. The set can only be described as lovely and old fashioned. I'll have to grab more grapes next year, since I prefer this tenfold over conventional high-sugar box-pectin grape jelly.

natural pectin grape jelly.

With just a few pounds of grapes remaining, I made this grape focaccia from Mostly Foodstuffs. I had been looking forward to it, and I wasn't disappointed. It's better than any focaccia I've ever eaten; I was addicted to the sweet/salty/grapey combination, and how it all pulled together so well because of the rosemary. It was also the fastest yeast dough I've ever made. It may require your lazy attention for the first 30-40 minutes of it's life, but it is so self-sufficient it practically makes itself. If you can get your hands on a cup of Concords, make it while you can!

The combination of rosemary and Concord grape was such a revelation to me that I immediately soaked the last of the grape concentrate I had already made in the fridge with 3-4 large sprigs of rosemary needles. I let it sit another 24 hours before making it into a conventional, high sugar jelly. I wasn't sure I'd like it as well after having such a spectacular luck with the boxed pectin-free jelly, but I did. It was very sweet and the texture was different, but it did taste like rosemary in that resinous, "what is that flavor" kind of way. I got 8 jars, too... perfect for gift giving (with some aged Wisconsin cheddar, I think).

Concord Grape and Rosemary Jelly (adapted from the Certo liquid pectin insert)
7 half pints, plus runover

• 4 c. Concord grape concentrate (made from 3-4 lbs grapes, steamed and strained through a jelly bag)
  
• 3-4 large sprigs of rosemary, needles removed
• 1 pouch liquid pectin
• 7 c. granulated sugar (1341 g.)

Stir rosemary needles into the grape concentrate, and let sit for 24 hours to infuse. Strain out the needles.

Sterilize jars (I used 8 half pints). I like using the oven for sterilization now - I put the clean jars on a baking sheet and slip it into the cold oven. Heat the oven to 250 and hold for at least a half an hour. Then, I grab the jars a couple at a time as I'm filling with a potholder.

Put the grape concentrate and sugar into a preserving pot. Heat and stir over medium high heat until the mixture comes to a rolling boil. Add pectin, and return to a boil for exactly one minute. (Refer to insert instructions.) Quickly ladle into sterilized jars, add lids and rings, and process in a hot water bath for 5 minutes. Remove to a resting towel, and do not disturb for at least 24 hours.

Interspersed with all the grapeness, I also managed to work my way through a bushel of tomatoes last week. I didn't need to worry about quarts of whole tomatoes or pints of spaghetti sauce, since my Mom did both of those for me. I felt like I had those tomatoes to really do whatever I wanted with, and since they were canner's seconds, I was just a little at the mercy of the big, watery, tomatoes. I settled on well-cooked-down things like another batch of my favorite Tomato Jam, a 3/4 batch of Classic Tomato Ketchup (a first for me, and I loved it!), and I made the last 8 lbs. or so into a mildly spicy vegetable "Bloody Mary Mix" which worked well with the consistency of my tomato variety. It seemed like a busy preserving week, but I was happy with everything, and my shelves feel considerably more full.

What continues to stand out to me is that Concord Grape and Rosemary Jelly, and I think in the depths of Winter I can probably make a plain focaccia bread and slather it with the jelly to reminisce the flavor of this Fall's flavor epiphany.

Sourdoughizing: Applesauce Cake

It's actually been a long time since I've made dessert with my sourdough starter. It used to be, that I felt so guilty about my excesses of starter that I was attempting to put it in everything. But, that was before the perfection of sourdough pancakes. Now, most mornings the Kiddo tiptoes into the kitchen moments after waking and asks, "Is the starter good?" If I've fed it the day before, which oftentimes I have, then I say yes - and he immediately goes to the closet to grab his footstool to help me mix up pancakes. 100% sourdough starter pancakes take less time to mix than time to heat the pan, and I couldn't be more thankful that my picky child loves them as much as I do.

Now that Fall seems finally to have arrived, the onset of apple season has me trying to use the final few jars of last years applesauce from the shelves. Yesterday I couldn't help but wonder if fermenting sourdough starter with a pint of applesauce and flour would produce an even better version of the Spanish Bar Cake that I told you all about last year. I would say that this is the finest sourdough cake I've made to date, and no one would know any different that it is in fact healthier for you due to the long fermentation time. (We'll just ignore the sugar content, ok?) This cake is so apple-y, you would swear you added fresh and not canned sauce, and the cake is so moist you would swear it had a pound of butter in it. But this is oil cake friends, and coconut oil is my miracle oil of choice for producing stellar results in baked goods. If you have a cupful of 100% hydration starter in need of using, give it a try. You will then bask in the chill of Fall with ample apple sustenance to carry you through a brisk day.

100% hydration starter is sourdough starter that you feed equal amounts of flour and water. I keep my starter well fed, since I am a habitual baker, but if you keep yours in the fridge, I'd recommend giving it a feeding or two before baking with it. I let my cake ferment for about 8 hours before continuing, but you probably would have a bit of play on either side of that time frame. If you mixed it after supper, you could easily continue with the baking after breakfast - or if you allow a few minutes in the morning, you could bake it in the evening as I did.

Sourdough Applesauce Cake (adapted from this Spanish Bar Cake I posted last year)
1 9x13 cake

For the ferment:

• 1 c. 100% hydration starter
• 1 pint applesauce (about 2 c.)
• 2 1/4 c. AP flour

To continue the cake:

• 2 c. sugar
• scant 1/2 c. coconut oil, melted and cooled slightly (or same amount of any cooking oil)
• 2 eggs
  
• 1/4 t. baking powder
• 1 1/2 t. baking soda
• 3/4 t. cinnamon (I use Cassia)
• 1/2 t. ground cloves
• 1/2 t. ground allspice
• pinch salt
• 1 c. raisins, optional
• 1/2 chopped walnuts, optional

Combine the starter and applesauce in a large bowl and mix well. Add the flour, stir well to mix, cover and leave at room temperature to ferment at least 7 hours before continuing.

When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 and butter a 9x13 pan.

Combine the remaining ingredients, except the raisins and walnuts if using, and mix well. Add to the fermented applesauce mixture, which should have risen considerably. Mix well by hand with a sturdy wooden spoon or a dough whisk until well blended. Stir in optional raisins and walnuts and stir just enough to disperse in the batter.

Pour into the prepared pan, and bake for 35-45 minutes until brown and a tester comes out clean from the center. Cool completely before frosting with maple cream cheese frosting if desired.

I will likely keep playing with this recipe. It's really one of my favorite things, since it is so deliciously reminiscent of Fall, but it also because it reminds me of my Gram. It is as good with the morning coffee as it is with a scoop of vanilla ice cream in the evening. Even die-hard chocolate cake fans like this simple spice cake, and being successfully sourdoughized makes me more happy than I can relate. Does this mean that cake season is upon me? I think so. I'd better go brew another pot of coffee, since it looks like rain for the next few days...

This post has been Yeastspotted.

One Year of Real Bread.

It's hard for me to believe that it has now been an entire year since I grew my sourdough culture. I thought of this since my Parents came to visit me this week, bringing with them grapes, tomatoes, and pumpkins for me to play with. When we first moved as a family to the farm in 1988, we were excited to have a variety of already established, old-timey things like apples, grapes, and raspberries right in our yard. Grapes in particular were exciting to us, since they can't really thrive up north where we had come from. We had both wild grapes and Concords, and my Mom has canned grape juice and grape jelly pretty much every year since. I was busy most of the day today with grapes, and will likely talk about them at length later, but smelling that deep purple of them just reinforced my love of bread - how grapes remind me now of the symbiotic relationship between wild yeast and fruit, fermentation and bread.

While I have always had a deep love for all things carbohydrate, and have never been shy of yeast bakery, I never would have dreamed that it was possible for me, amateur home baker, to turn out wild, natural leaven breads one at a time with relative ease. Those grapes that assisted me on my favorite fermentation adventure ever are a continual reminder of the relationship between the baker and the ingredient, and the realization that what comes from my hands is really maybe only half skill and the other half a credit to the powers of the unseen world. No wonder bread has such mystical and spiritual connotation - the more I make it the more I am solidly convinced in the power of the Almighty.

While I have written many posts on bread and my experiments with it, I wrote them all with the passion of new discovery. As I have worked my way through different books, different methods, various ratios and flours, I have found little tips with each loaf. Having baked through an entire year with wild yeast, I can say (from my personal experience, anyway) that Summer bread is tough to master. Now that the air is thinner, crisp with impending Autumn, my excitement for bread making is again in full swing - the past three or four loaves in particular knocking my proverbial socks right off.

firm starter, just out of the fridge.

I am still using the ratios in Peter Reinhart's book Crust and Crumb, and yes, I am still available if he'd like me to personally go door to door and promote it. All Summer, I had been making his recipe for Country Style Levain (which a few other loaves interspersed in there too). Generally, it was good. Big, airy holes and a nice round sour flavor, sometimes it felt a little wet in the middle... but I chalked it up to a "custardy interior" and ate almost all of it regardless of the varying degrees of perfection.

But a week or so ago, I went back to his slightly different "San Francisco" Sourdough, and I am newly smitten, as if I had never had such success with bread before. Both aforementioned breads use a base Peter calls a Firm Starter. The build begins with the firm starter a day or two prior to mixing up bread, and the firm starter remains viable for about 3 days in the fridge (longer if you refresh it with additional water and flour). I'm not quite sure if it is a combination of the weather, the hint of malt extract, or my decision to autolyse my loaves, but these breads have been so great they deserve their own billboard. The crumb is tight, absent of airy holes, but still with a bit of that wet custard feel. The crust is particularly amazing: crisp and caramel-y, making a proper mess of my floor when I go to slice into it. It's the best of all bread worlds, at least for now.

it windowpanes like nobody's business...

I have made this recipe before, though the results were not mind-boggling, and hence I had moved on to the Country Levain. Why it has decided to work for me now, I am not sure. I am beyond excited that for the first time ever, I have been able to use a well-floured brotform without having the loaf stick at all. The loaf does not deflate when I gingerly tip it over, even though each time I fully expect it to. I invert it onto the counter, then slash and move it to my preheated cast-iron pot, and it stays proudly puffed, living and breathing like I remember Nancy Silverton referring to it doing - and I never understood what she meant until now.

Since I usually have 100% hydration starter in largish amounts, because the firm starter lasts a few days in the fridge, and because I like using the firm starter in things besides bread (like this pizza dough), I usually mix up a larger batch of it. I'm still working on the optimum feeding schedule for my starter(s)... since I don't keep my main (100% hydration) starter in the refrigerator unless I absolutely have to, I feed it every day which sometimes can feel a tad wasteful. The build time for this bread can be shortened, and flavor sacrifice is minimal, so go ahead and bake it if you need bread!

Maybe I'm not really a true bread baker since I let my KitchenAid do my mixing. Had I the resources of a sturdy wood bench, I would likely do the hand kneading since I probably do need the exercise. You can make this bread by hand, just make sure to knead it until the gluten develops enough that you can spread a thin windowpane without tearing, and you'll be fine. This loaf is a good size for a standard 5 quart cast iron pot, which is how I prefer to bake to get a good crust. You can use a different baking method, and then form other bread shapes.

"Wisconsin" Sourdough (adapted for volume and method from Peter Reinhart)

For the Firm Starter:

• 1 c. 100% hydration starter
• 1 c. bread flour
• enough water to make it form into a ball - a few tablespoons

To make the Firm Starter: mix the starter ingredients in a mixing bowl. When they form a ball, turn the dough out onto a floured surface and knead just until all the ingredients are incorporated, and dough forms a smooth ball. Place dough in a clean bowl, cover, and let ferment at room temperature for 4 hours. Then transfer to the fridge overnight or about 8 hours. The firm starter will be active for about 3 days. (If you leave it longer and need to refresh it, add 1 c. flour and 1/3 c. water or as much water to bring it back to roughly the same consistency. You can easily double the ingredients to allow for additional firm starter.)

For the Bread:

• 9 1/3 oz. firm starter, taken out of the fridge at least 1 hour before you want to use it
  
• 10 oz. bread flour
• 1/2 t. barley malt extract
  
• 6 oz. water
• heaping t. salt

Take the firm starter, break it into pieces, and combine it with everything else *Except Salt* in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook or, if working by hand, in a bowl. When it just comes together into a ball, cover the mixer with a towel, and let it rest for 20 minutes.

Sprinkle the salt over the top, and start the mixer. Knead for 8-10 minutes, until a golf ball size piece of dough will pass the windowpane test. (The dough is a little sticky, just drop it into the flour bin before trying to pass the test.) Transfer the dough to a lightly floured board, and give it a couple of kneads by hand to form it into a nice ball, then put it in a clean bowl. Cover with plastic wrap, or a plastic bag, and let rise at room temperature for 4 hours. It should show "signs of swelling", it doesn't need to truly double in size. If it seems to be rising faster due to a warmer room temperature, still let it ferment for the full 4 hours.

Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured board, and shape into a round loaf. (Try to "pull" the dough tightly, so that it forms a nice, compact ball. Pinch the bottom seams together if need be. It shouldn't spread out on you after you've formed a tight ball, that "skin" is what prevents the loaf from growing into a less desirable and larger shape.)

Lightly dust the loaf with flour, and place it in a floured brotform or circular colander lined with a linen towel that has been rubbed with flour. (Be sure that you have the smooth size facing down, and the crimped bottom side facing up.) Place the formed loaf in a plastic bag and let it ferment at room temperature for 3-4 hours, until about 1 1/2 times it's original size.

(You can now bake it... or let it sit overnight in the fridge well wrapped in the plastic bag. I've left it in the fridge for as long as 16 hours, and it still baked up fine.)

Remove the loaf from the fridge 1 hour before baking. Preheat the oven to 475 with a lidded cast iron pot inside. Carefully tip the loaf out onto a lightly floured surface and slash the top.

Transfer to the cast iron pot, and bake with the lid on for 30 minutes. Remove the lid, and continue to bake 10-15 minutes longer, until the crust has the color you like.

Let cool for at least an hour before cutting into it...

hot bread.

More than any other bread I've made, this one really "sings". Singing bread is the ultimate reward and one you can quiet your 5-year-old son with; it is the reaction of the hot loaf hitting the cooler room temperature air, the process of the exterior cooling and contracting. The fissures it creates in the loaf are pretty interesting, the cracks appearing in this particular bread are deeper than any other I've made. And like I said earlier, I can't be sure if I can take credit for any of it.

cool bread.

Sometimes I feel guilty that I can enjoy wheat. When I run into more and more people with gluten allergies, I really feel a particular sadness that I can't share this kind of bread epiphany with someone. When I stand proud over a cooling bread, when I try to identify that wheaty, toasty smell and can't find the proper word, when I can't stand it any longer, and cut the crusty end off the loaf to eat before dinner... I really remember to appreciate this ancient thing that no longer seems unattainable to me. I enjoy every single bite. I still have so much to learn, but now I feel empowered with competence: a year of wild yeast under my belt, and the world is my oyster.


This post has been YeastSpotted.