Adventures in Breadmaking

The means of production, round 2

 It's been a while, Blahdeblah fans, and I admit that I'm finally settling down to write this now because I need to be distracted from the impending election. But in the intervals that I've not been writing letters to voters in swing states or going on bike rides for mental health and fitness or obsessively watching Brian Tyler Cohen videos while lifting weights, I've been trying to replicate All You Need is Loaf's basic French Loaf because Stephane has gone to France for a month and we really miss his bread. He gave me his basic recipe, a basket to use to form a loaf, and some tips before he left but, alas, he did not give me his skills. We've certainly had no trouble eating the loaves, but they are not quite right.

 And it's not like I haven't made plenty of bread in my day. I still have PTSD from the six months of working graveyard in a bread bakery, okay? What I lack, in addition to Stephane's je ne sais quoi, is a proper stand mixer and the correct type of flour. I've also been casting a doubtful eye on my scale since I think it's not really precise when it comes to measuring a few grams. 

 Round 1:

For the first batch, I used a combination of all-purpose flour, some fancy red wheat flour I bought in the PCC's bulk section, and some whole wheat flour. I had to do some googling to figure out how much yeast to use in making the "poolish" because there was just no way that my scale was going to accurately weigh just a few grams. And it occurred to me a few hours later that I probably should have used warmer water in making that though, in the end, I'm not sure that really mattered. The real challenge came when I tried to mix the dough using my hand mixer. The dough was so sticky and so thick that it actually pulled the beaters from the machine. Alas, I took no photos at that stage, and instead dumped it onto the pastry board to knead it by hand. Another entry for the error report: I didn't know what the dough was supposed to be like after it had been mixed for ten minutes so I just kneaded it for roughly the same length of time / until it seemed like I'd want bread dough to be.

Kneaded dough, ready to rise

The recipe called for "folding" the dough at the 45-minute mark. I had nodded sagely when Stephane mentioned this step to me, thinking it was just what the French called kneading, but I googled to find that it was something else entirely. My dough was much more like regular bread dough than those in the videos I watched, reinforcing my doubts about whether kneading gives you the same results as using a powerful mixer. I did my best, with uncertain results. Eventually I had the bread ready to put into the oven at which point I introduced another error: I forgot to put ice into the oven to create the steam that was to give it a proper crust. Merde.

Round 1 loaves ready to go into the 465-ish-degree oven

But they seemed to bake well enough, though they lost their shape somewhat 

Round 1 loaves cooling

and the crumb was acceptable, but the loaves were pretty heavy.

What I am calling "the crumb shot"

It was decent for toast and held together nicely for sandwiches. But it was nothing like Stephane's French Loaf. 

 Round 2:

A few nights later I mixed up a fresh poolish, using warmer water this time. I had also invested in some Bob's Red Mill Artisan Bread Flour, thinking that might be closer to what Stephane used. (Spoiler: I was wrong.) The following day, I measured and mixed--skipping the hand mixer fiasco this time--and kneaded and then put the dough into a soup pot to rise since this time I was consulting volume II of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking and she advised using a container with less slanted sides which seemed to mirror what I'd seen in the "folding" video. Did it actually make any difference? I don't think so.

Round 2 dough, post-folding

Round 2 loaves, pre-bake

The error report for round 2 might include that I slashed the loaves earlier than I should have, though I don't think that made any serious difference. But I also overcompensated for forgetting the ice cubes in the oven on round 1 by both brushing the tops with water and adding ice cubes to a pan that had heated up along with the oven. I think that's what led to these loaves coming out a bit dark on top.

Round 2 baked loaves,  a bit misshapen and dark

The bread was a bit chewier than I really wanted, but I went ahead and served it at dinner and the guests were polite enough not to complain.

Round 2 crumb shot

Round 3:

I read Julia a little more closely and did some googling on Bob's Red Mill flour, finding out that while Julia says proper French flour is less glutenous than the average American flour, the Artisan flour has, in fact, more gluten. I figured that I'd been adjusting in the wrong direction so I went with pure all-purpose flour for the third attempt. I also opted to go with measuring my yeast rather than relying on the scale, using slightly less than a full teaspoon, and I used a plain old mixing bowl, rather than something with straighter sides. 

Round 3 dough, post-fold

The pre-risen loaves, round 3

This time around, I left the dough a little rougher before putting it in the baskets to rise, and I moved the rack a little lower in the oven. I also skipped brushing the loaves with water, though I did use the ice cube trick. When the loaves came out of the oven, I declared them to be "quite rustic!"

Round 3 loaves, fresh from the oven

One of Julia's observations is that "while bread still warm from the oven is exciting, it's better to allow it to cool for an hour or two to allow the bread time to compose itself." I allowed the bread to compose while I went for a bike ride.

The composed bread, round 3 crumb illustration

This third round is the closest I've gotten to Stephane's loaves, but it still falls sadly short. Oh, we'll bravely make do, but I do look forward to his return to the West Seattle Farmers Market. Assuming he does return. So much is riding on this damned election which, I find to some surprise, I'd almost put out of my mind entirely writing this endless post. 

Vote, Blahdeblahhers, VOTE! (And make sure everyone you know is voting too.)

Granola recipe

Beauty!

The summer seems to be passing without me having time or inclination to post an update here. I've got no explanation for that, but toss up a quick recipe post for future reference and as a waving, not drowning placeholder. Or I would if Google wasn't behaving crazy. 

(Okay, it's a week or so later and Google thinks I should be allowed to add a photo or two so I'm returning to this. I'll just add that making the granola was incredibly easy and straightforward and it turned out to be quite delicious too.)

Here's the recipe:

 Homemade Granola
(Click the link for the page with the original recipe; I've modified it slightly.)

1½ cups quick cooking rolled oats (Bob’s Red Mill / whole grain)
slightly less than ¼ c. canola oil
slightly less than ¼ c. total maple syrup including 1 T honey
¼ t. cinnamon
¼ t. salt
½ c. combined chopped almonds & sunflower seeds
½ c. combined raisins and dried cranberries 

Preheat oven to 300°. 

 In a medium-size bowl, whisk together oil, syrup/honey, cinnamon, and salt. Add oats and chopped nuts/sunflowers and stir to blend well. 

Spread onto lipped cookie sheet lined with parchment paper and pat flattish. 

Bake for 10 minutes then remove from oven, flip oats, stir, and reflatten. Return to oven and bake an additional ten minutes or until toasty brown. 

Remove tray from oven and stir in dried fruits. Pat flat again and leave tray on rack to cool. Store in tightly sealed jar for up to one month at room temperature. 

Fresh from the oven

 

 

Asparagus Risotto recipe

 Asparagus Risotto recipe; don't skip the browned butter!

Bookstore "Day" Episode VII, NORTH to Edmonds & Beyond!

 [Find episodes 1 - 6 here, here, here, here, here, and here.]

Before I admitted that I just wasn't going to get to all the stores this year--and that was okay--I'd sold Scott on the idea of taking Amtrak to Edmonds. It wasn't a hard sell; Scott is always up for a train ride. He did draw the line at adding the complication of bringing our bikes so, alas, Bessie and her companion stayed in the garage for the day and we just caught a C to take us downtown to catch the 8:30 Amtrak.

The "Edmonds only" car

We met a nice young woman from Brooklyn who was heading all the way to Vancouver, BC, even though she was riding in the Edmonds car. We broke it to her that she wouldn't actually be traveling through any national parks on the train while assuring her that the view would be quite nice anyway. I also suggested she check out Vij's in Vancouver because that's what I tell absolutely everyone.

The trip north was pretty quick and uneventful so before long we found ourselves in Edmonds, where we had some difficulty figuring out how to exit the train station grounds. It was early, ok, and we hadn't had time to stop for coffee at Zeitgeist. It was so early, in fact, that our quarry wasn't in the open yet so we started sensibly enough by finding a coffee shop--two, actually. Scott felt that Cafe Louvre had a Starbucksesque appearance--and I'd been more taken with another shop's online description--so we continued on to Walnut Street which offered great coffee and treats in a somewhat brighter atmosphere. How do I know it was brighter? Because we still had time to kill after finishing our coffees there so we went to Cafe Louvre too. Great mini-eclairs at Cafe Louvre, but the coffee was definitely better at Walnut Street.

We approached Edmonds Bookshop at 10:00 a.m. to find quite a crowd at their front door. I was surprised by such enthusiasm for books on a Thursday morning, but it turned out to be a class field trip and we were beckoned in ahead of the twenty-odd small children. The word for Edmonds Bookshop is . . . well, I was going to say "charming," but actually it should be "heart-warming." The bookseller was friendly in a genuine sort of way and to hear the owner address the crowd of kids, all settled down on the floor, practically brought tears to my eyes. It gives you hope, you know--small independent business, selling books, oddly enthralled children--it was all pretty fine. Their book selection was pretty darned good too, though I confess that I find the practice of separating "classics" from the rest of fiction to be a little odd. (Several bookshops are doing this these days so I guess it's a thing. I just wish they'd put a "check out our 'classics' section if you're not finding what you seek here" sign in the general fiction area. For context, know that Watership Down is considered a "classic" in some bookshops.)  Edmonds Bookshop also appreciated Cascadia Field Guide, which will always be one of my favorite book projects so I was charmed by this as well:

As I was checking out I told the bookseller that I'd worked on Cascadia and she mentioned they'd had another Mountaineers author in to do a reading lately-- "Zimmerman?" I am embarrassed to admit it took me a couple of minutes to place the name for of course she meant Graham Zimmerman whose A Fine Line I'd also project managed! I can only say that I've taken to retirement like a duck to water.

My Edmonds purchase because Shuggie Bain was excellent

By this time our ferry was about due so we started scurrying towards the waterfront, but then I remembered I wanted a shot outside the bookshop, even if we didn't have the bikes, so we hurried back up the few blocks we'd just covered for that photo.

I make a poor substitute for Bessie

But "ferry?" you ask? To get to Seattle? Oh, gentle reader, did I not say "multi-modal" at some point in an earlier post? We caught the ferry (oddly, no photos) over to Kingston so we could collect a stamp from Saltwater Books, possibly another new addition to SIBD. It was, happily, a pretty short and quiet stroll from the ferry dock in Kingston. And what joy to encounter, along a side street, a woman out weeding accompanied by her pet goat!

Moses, a goat who would have liked to eat everything I was wearing

Eventually I tore myself (and my jacket and scarf) away from Moses and we made our way to Saltwater Bookshop which, I'll say, is the sort of bookstore you might expect to find in a shopping center next to a grocery store. In their defense, apparently they do more online orders so most of their stock is invisible to the in-person shopper. It was challenging to find a book here, though the bookseller seemed a very nice woman and they had some nice displays. I finally settled on a collection of classic mystery stories:

The shop opens into Borrowed Kitchen, an utterly unpretentious bakery from which we bought some excellent danish and bread that survived the trip back to West Seattle quite nicely.

Saltwater had a "photobooth" so I used that for the store photo

We had a bit of time to kill before the Bremerton fast ferry was due and, as I've noted before, one needs more than coffee and pastry on these expeditions so we found a restaurant to have lunch (excellent fish & chips, with the most surprisingly delicious cole slaw!) and then did some more exploring and experiencing of the sights:

Does Bigfoot stop by Kingston frequently that they should have such giant Adirondacks?

Looking down from the Fast Ferry dock we could see a million tiny fishes teeming in the water. So fascinated were we by the fish, and so bewildered by the boarding protocols, that we nearly missed the boat entirely. We had it pretty much to ourselves for the trip back to Seattle.

The boat goes so fast that you aren't allowed to be outside while it's traveling and you're supposed to remain seated while inside. It didn't have the freshest smell, but it was pretty speedy--less than 40 minutes dock to dock. I just wish it made more frequent crossings since I wouldn't mind spending more time in Kingston. The fast ferry very conveniently docks right next to the West Seattle Water Taxi which happened to be there when we arrived so we just walked from one boat to the next, essentially, to get home most expeditiously.

And so ends the tale of SIBD 2024. I had worked out possible routes to get to the shops in Shoreline, Kirkland, Redmond, Mercer Island, Bremerton, Bainbridge, and Poulsbo, but I was truly a bit sick of desperately seeking for something to buy at some shops, and Poulsbo, man, that was just going to be hell to get to and from without a car. Maybe we'll bike the loop around the top of Lake Washington that we mapped out when we were feeling more ambitious earlier, and certainly I want to see about the 520 bridge route and the trail that is supposed to be on the east side of the lake. But we won't be getting stamps, alas,

Ever-more hazy Bookstore Days 3 and 4

Side of a building in Burien

I think the it was the very next day (aka Tuesday) after the events described here that I gave myself a pep talk--"you're not scared of a little traffic, are you, punk?"--and set out on my own for the wilds of Burien. It's not really that far nor is it particularly hilly, but there's a good stretch of fast, busy road with no bicycle lane that makes me a little nervous. I opted to apply the general rules of Seattle ("this lane restricted to buses [and bicycles]") to Burien where the signage is just "this lane restricted to buses." I kept an ear out for approaching buses to avoid any actual confrontations and kept my speed up, of course, which made it all a little more stressy than one might like. 

Bessie, feeling a little shy after the adventure of the bus lane

But it was all fine, fine I tell you, and I reached the first of my two bookstores of the day, Page 2 Books, without incident. Page 2 falls into the category of "sweet little shop that I wish I'd get to more often." The staff is always friendly and helpful and they have a nice blend of new and used. I tend to judge a store by its "recommended" selection and I found that I agreed with a great many of the recommendations. Unfortunately, that meant I'd read those books already so it wasn't as helpful as it might have been. I ended up selecting a used copy of a recommended title that I hadn't read yet:

The staff at Page 2 expressed some excitement about my bingo card (when they must have been sick to death of the business by then) and helpfully gave me directions to the second bookshop in Burien, saying it was right next door to an enticing bakery. I then walked the few blocks to Three Trees Books (what is it with Burien and numbers in their store names?) which was indeed right next to a cookie shop with the most delightful aromas. But, books first!

Note Cascadia and Turn-Around Time in the window display

I find the term "curated" pretentious and overused, but it seriously applies--in a good way!--to Three Trees. Their stock isn't huge, but what they've got is all pretty darned good--and not all the usual obvious suspects. I can't tell you how pleased I was to see not one, but two copies of The City is More than Human on the shelves. But I've read (and own) that one already so I had to find something else and that took me a surprisingly long time. I at last went nonfiction:

 

Afterward, I stopped by Treat, the neighboring cookie shop, and picked up some cookies to take to the nice women at 2 Pages. They seemed pleased. I then opted to put Bessie on the bus for a mile or two to avoid that alarming stretch: Burien, get yourself some bike lanes! I debused in time to visit the home of the DubSea Fish Sticks--opening day is June 1!--and windowshop a few stores in White Center.

Quinceañera dresses in White Center shop

The next evening, Scott joined me for a ride to Georgetown so we could both get stamps at Fantagraphics, a shop we'd been to before, but never for bookstore day. 

Apartments available upstairs in this fine old building

It was a nice night for a ride and the route there turns out to be incredibly easy; I'd say I don't know why we always gave it a miss but that'd be a lie. It's an easy ride but it's hell and gone from every other store and we're just not that into comics. I was hoping they might have a stand-alone The Dream of a Thousand Cats, but alas. Maybe that doesn't exist or maybe they just don't carry Sandman.  I ended up replacing a book that somehow went missing when I moved a few decades back:

 

 

Sadly, we didn't stick around Georgetown after Fantagraphics; the coffee shop next door had closed for the night and while we sort of wanted a cocktail or dinner, we didn't especially want to be biking afterwards.

Georgetown does quirky

Oh, so close to the end of this series (previous entries here, here, here, here, and also here)! But the final installment involves some serious multi-moduling so it must wait at least another day.

Yet more Independent Book Store "Day" Reportage

Bessie poses at Kerry Park

It's all beginning to feel so long ago that I figure I'd best continue the tale soon or I'll have forgotten all about it and what a loss that would be to the world. After seeing Scott off to work on Monday morning, I headed out on Bessie to see about getting a stamp from Queen Anne Book Company. There were predictions of rain--and possibly even thunder showers--but it seemed pretty sunny when I set out.

As I likely said earlier, we'd left QABC out of our original route because it's on top of Queen Anne and that's some seriously intimidating elevation gain, at least by our standards (275 feet in just over half a mile). But I'm not too proud to make use of Metro so I biked to Uptown, as lower Queen Anne is seemingly called, and put Bessie on a bus to get up the counterbalance. I did manage to ride back down the hill, but I tried to zigzag a little and I admit I got off and walked a block because I really don't care for the angle in either direction.

 

Queen Anne feels very much like a locals' bookstore, and I always feel like a tourist there. Unlike previous visits on Actual Book Store Day, it was pretty quiet so I didn't get quite the same party crasher feeling as I have in the past, but I still had a nigh-on impossible time finding a book to buy. They didn't have some of the obvious options--the NYRB book I hadn't bought elsewhere or anything by Nora Ephron (whose I Feel Bad About My Neck had come up in conversation the day before). Because I had to get something, I finally decided on a book about an alternative London, because that's usually a safe trope:

I was clearly not myself as I couldn't find anything I wanted even at the bakery next door but the descent, treacherous though it was, seemed to restore me to myself and I opted to stop by Sugar for a slice of cake to go.

The stop meant that I was caught in the torrential downpour that started some fifteen minutes later, but I insist cake is never a mistake.

Still to come (maybe): Burien, Georgetown, AND adventures further north. And previous entry here

The Neverending Independent Bookstore Day Adventure, Episode IV

When last we met here (and before that here and originally here) Scott and I were waiting at Roosevelt station for a light rail to take us to Capitol Hill. Clearly, a train came along:

Portrait of a Family Outing

It was raining when we emerged from the light-rail station, and my vision likely wasn't as clear as one might like as we cycled up the half dozen blocks to reach 15th and knock off two shops that were due to close shortly--though not quite as soon as I thought. My exhausted state and poor vision led me to misread my watch, making me think it was nearly 8:00.

Bikes  posed by Nook and Cranny

Nook and Cranny Books and More has an interesting approach to shelving: books are grouped by idiosyncratic theme so you'll find shelves of "books to read in the bath" or "books if you want to feel inspired." (I don't swear these are actual categories at Nook and Cranny, but you get the idea.) Unfortunately, they did not have a shelf of "books if you are very tired of looking at books and are anxious about the store closing soon" so the categories weren't as helpful to me as they might have been. Thus I was very relieved to at last stumble across a book by Young Adult author Rebecca Stead whose When You Reach Me truly is phenomenal. Sure it's "Young Adult," but I still recommend it to everyone everywhere all at once.

Scott got to spin the wheel at Nook & Cranny but my book was too cheap so I didn't get that opportunity; I can't remember what treasure he won this time. We left the bikes where they were and scurried up to Ada's Technical Books since I still hadn't realized I'd misread my watch. It was likely that sense of urgency that led me to at last succumb to the book that I'd decided against at at least half a dozen stores by then:

It's a take-off of a Shakespeare story, how could I not like it?

Purchases completed and time pressure at last relieved, we shifted the bikes to in front of Ada's so we could get the traditional snap there before heading down the hill to the last shop of the day.

Sort of a "last homely bookshop" feel to Ada's in the gloaming

Elliott Bay Book Company is traditionally the last stop for us--and probably many other people--since its 10:00 p.m. closing time is later than most stores. As usual, there was a crowd of people handing in their completed cards. ("How, people, how?" I always wonder until I remember that most people start earlier than we do and, oh yeah, drive. But still, 28 stores--some of them requiring a ferry--in a single day? Crazy, man.) I didn't see anything I particularly wanted on any of the "recommended" shelves, but it occurred to me to wonder if they'd have a Connie Willis I hadn't read so I went into the stacks and found one I'd not heard of and carried it up to the checkout, though I wasn't wild about the cover.

 

As it turned out, you pretty much could judge this book by its cover; it was a little disappointing. Not awful, just pretty light and predictable. But sometimes I'm okay with light.

"Do all those books make my pannier look big?" Scott's bike might ask.

I want to say "And so ends the first of this year's Seattle Independent Bookstore days," but then I remember that we opted to return to the light rail to get downtown which meant shifting the bikes out of the Westlake station via the elevator which, alas, provided an all-too-vivid illustration of what happens when a city lacks adequate public restrooms. We ended the day standing in half an inch of urine, grateful for our thick-soled shoes. I soaked mine in bleach after we got home; Scott decided he'd been about ready to throw that pair of Docs out anyway. Ah, Seattle . . . 

Day One's Final Haul

Still to come: Making use of those EXTRA days