Bread: Deep Nourishment for Troubled Times

I was a kid in the 70s when inflation was crazy and nobody could afford to eat beef.  My parents were struggling to raise my sister and I while putting my father through grad school.  I believe the household balance sheet in 1975 read something like this:

Income: $2,000 (my father's stipend as a post-doc)

Savings: $2,000 (from my mother's savings account as an elementary teacher before the kids were born.)

Expenses: $3,995  

The last $5 probably went to their one night out for the year.

It was a bit grim, but as with most people who have to make things work, my parents made it work.  Homemade clothes, homemade gifts, homemade food.  And eventually, my dad got into his field, my mom went back to work, and the family put some money in the bank. 

Which is good because in about 1982 the family had another financial rapids to shoot -- the job my dad found and moved us all to Pennsylvania for went up in smoke, and again we were scraping by on my mom's teacher's salary, with the added challenge of a mortgage at 16% interest.

In the months that it took him to find the right job (thank you Hershey Medical Center!) my dad was a nervous guy.  That's when he started to make bread at home from scratch, two or three times a week.

Bread.  With Milk and Water and Yeast.  Big tall loaves that stood up over the pan and got really brown on the top.

I  remember my dad kneading the dough, making the kitchen table rock and creak, a little sweat standing out on his brow.  I remember the satisfaction in his smile when he peeked into the oven and saw the finished loaves.

I remember attacking those loaves straight from the oven, the slices so hot that butter would drip through the air pockets and down our sleeves.  It was so good it was hard to stop.  Of course, he did find a great job, and except for the occasional Saturday revival, the homemade bread stopped coming.

He confided to me when I was in college that bread had been therapy for him - something useful for a jobless person to do;  an elemental process that still worked regardless of how slow or chaotic the rest of life seemed; a relaxing physical project that works out some stress in the kneading.  

Fresh bread gives potent, undeniable satisfaction.  (My friend Chef BC is fond of saying that  

"bread and butter" is his favorite recipe.)  And it's cheap fun.

In my house right now there's a lot of mental activity devoted to making ends meet - and trimming the budget.  Suddenly at work, multiple people are talking about this book:

Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day

http://www.artisanbreadinfive.com/?p=1616

Which essentially tells you that you can make a big batch of dough, proof it once, and hold it in the fridge for up to ten days, pulling off a lump at a time to make fresh loaves as you want them.  Which is really easy and simple to do (despite the many perfectionist tweaks you will see in the recipe on this site.)

I've been doing this lately, and the results are enjoyable and really take me back to my childhood.  The recipe I use is one I have adapted for Spelt flour (I am sensitive to hybridized wheat) and give a good chewy loaf with a strong crust.

I baked this one in a souffle dish, and brushed the top with milk a couple times during baking. This dough also had coarse cornmeal and oats in it. 

I don't presume your experience will be identical to mine, but I predict a strong likelihood that fresh bread you eat warm from the oven will change your day for the better. . . and maybe even change your life.  If this is poverty, welcome to the poor house!

Big Strappin' Spelt Bread 

Here's what I do:

4.5 tsp dry yeast, 2/3 C Warm water, 2T Sucanat.  Mix and let stand until frothy on top.

Add to this:

6C Whole Spelt flour, 2C White Spelt

1/4 cup ground Flaxseed

2T Kosher or Sea Salt

Then add:

4-5 Cups warm Water.

Mix in a large bowl with a STURDY spoon or spatula until you get a sticky, shaggy mass.  Keep stirring about 2 minutes.  Let the dough rest 5 minutes for the coarser flour to hydrate.  Test the dough - is it sticky but not runny?  Can you handle it with oiled hands without it adhering to you for life?  Then it's in the range of goodness.  If not, mix in either warm water or flour and keep working with the spoon.  When it passes the test, move on.

Flop the dough out onto a sturdy surface and knead it for two minutes by hand.  Put it in a large, oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let it rise in a warm place until doubled in size (1.5-2 hours).  Then punch it down, cover it again, and move it to the fridge.  

When you want bread - remove a hunk of dough, shape it to fit your pan (I like to use a covered pot - especially enameled cast iron or glazed clay) oil and flour the pan on the bottom and halfway up the sides, then place the dough in there and let it rise about 2 hours, until doubled.  Bake at 400 for 20 minutes with the lid on to develop the crust, then remove the lid and bake until the loaf sounds hollow when tapped.  

This recipe will make 2 nice big sandwich loaves, 3 medium-sized loaves, or 4 small baguettes.