In the past couple of months — in fact, since we moved into the new flat — I have taken up bread-making in a big way. I think I’ve made at least one batch of bread a week, though sometimes it’s one every couple of days. I made three different types of bread for our flatwarming party!
I always liked the idea of making my own bread. Who doesn’t like the smell of freshly-baked bread, after all? But it’s not a skill that gets practised in many households. Cooking is necessary, and cake baking happens for special occasions, but not many people make bread. I didn’t know how to approach the problem at all. What am I trying to do? What are the pitfalls? What is this “kneading” thing and why do it? All these questions but no real place to turn.
I made some rolls with a sweet dough from Nigella Lawson’s Feast a few years ago. They turned out quite well in most cases, but it felt too much like cheating. Nigella has that effect, though at the time you don’t feel guilty. I just didn’t feel like I was involved in the process, instead of just going through the motions.
This year I was given some loaf tins and a stripy apron (make a mess? me?!) by Helen’s parents, as a Christmas present. I started to make some loaves from Delia Smith’s Complete Cookery Course. Helen will probably tell you it was slightly more hit than miss but the art was eluding me. I know what to do in general terms, but I didn’t know why I was doing it and I was not comfortable with it all. There were trees, but I couldn’t see a wood. Well, it’s hard to explain.
Lawrence recommended Richard Bertinet’s Dough at some point. At the time I thought that it wasn’t really another book of recipes I needed, it was comprehension. So I didn’t follow it up. In the end I came across it by accident in a deli/cafe in Glasgow, which sold a selection of books along with its gourmet ingredients. I bought it because the recipes were inviting and the concept of watching the included DVD sounded appealing in a silly way.
Included DVDs are so often tedious and pointless, so I was expecting only some hammy infomercial stuff. The reality was very, very different. Bertinet demonstrates how to work the dough his way, explaining the process and what it aims to do. This was the revelation I was looking for. Since then I’ve been enthusiastic about the process — I know what I want to produce, I feel far more comfortable winging it, and can predict how the dough will react now. I’m getting a feel for it. Nothing special, but I’m not eternally worried that I’ll ruin things. It all seems that bit easier to control.
It was by no means a seamless transition. The first few times I made dough the Bertinet way it seemed to take forever, and I did begin to lose heart. Eventually I would just move on to the next stage before it was the way I wanted; it didn’t seem to do the loaves any harm in the end. Lawrence was kind enough to give a few words of his own experience, which helped.
I’m now at the stage where I feel confident that I know what will happen. I am happy to start throwing together some dough as soon as I get home from work. For the first time in my life I also feel very happy to make this kind of thing without recourse to recipes. The ingredients, the proportions of each to the other — they make sense. (It’s all about the percentages, apparently. Though it seems the literature on the matter is not as well explained as it could be.) I also have an intuition about what the dough and bread will be like from a particular recipe, which is satisfying.
I’ve been baking regularly, trying to improve my handling of the dough so I can get consistent results. My main problem at the moment is dividing a ball of dough into equal-sized lumps. I always end up with a runt in my litter! This is even more infuriating with rolls and bread shots. But I feel confident it’ll all come together.
I would encourage anyone who feels that way inclined to just grab the ingredients and try. I was held back a lot initially by the idea that I needed loaf tins to make bread. This is not the case — in fact, I’d say you can make more varieties of bread without a tin than the number you need to make with a tin. Bread flour and yeast (especially the little sachets) are cheap and readily available. Salt and water even more so. And that’s all you need! Then you just dive in (not literally; that stuff dries on quite tough).
It makes me very happy when I open my lunch box at work to find sandwiches made from my own bread. Incredibly happy. I also feel that I’m contributing properly to the economy of the kitchen here. With Helen doing so much cooking from Nigella Express I had felt I wasn’t really pulling my weight, but I’m happy to keep us in loaves for the immediate future. We haven’t had to buy bread or rolls for many weeks now. There’s even one of my Gruyère and Cumin loaves in the freezer now for a rainy day. And that’s good to know.
