CRUSTY ARTISAN BREAD with MY BETH

Bethy's Bread

Costco used to sell a wonderful artisan bread that everyone in our family loved. I bought it by the case of 24, par-baked and frozen. We kept our garage freezer filled with it. I'd rush home from the store, tear open the cardboard case and tuck two loaves at a time  into plastic bags. I stacked them in the freezer like icy library books. All we had to do for hot bread at Sunday dinner was finish baking the frozen loaves at 385 degrees for 18 minutes. We called it bunny bread because when it was cut each piece formed the outline of a rabbit.

Then Costco quit selling it.

Dang.

My friend Cherie Call started posting on Instagram images of bread she had made; lovely crusty artisan bread with soft white airy centers. She claimed it was ridiculously easy. In spite of being smack in the middle of raising children and sustaining a successful musical career, Cherie said she made it regularly. I asked her if she was being honest about the ease of it, and she swore it to be truth. Cherie and I are kindred hearts in many ways; we treasure time with our kids, we bottle our own fruit during canning season, we write songs and sing them for people and in our own earthy way we are both trying to be like Jesus. I trust Cherie. 

So I set about looking for enameled cast iron casserole pots, intending to give it a go. I bought three of them. They sat in my cupboard for such a long time, because while the recipe for that bread was pretty simple, the timing seemed like it could be a challenge. 

The recipe had four simple ingredients:

Flour - Salt - Yeast - Water 

Mix them all together. Let it rise. Shape it. Let it rise again. Bake.

The thing that kept me from making it was that one ingredient they don’t list in the supplies:

Time

So I put it off… and put it off… and put it off, until one wintry day I thought I’d put other stuff off and focus on this. What I found out, after doing this over and over, is that the time is not exact, and it doesn’t have to be. If I have 8 hours for a good rise, then that’s awesome. But if I set that dough in a good thick ceramic bowl, and if I set it on that spot on my bedroom floor where the sun comes through the windows and the heating vent is close by, the rise will be dependably good in 3 to 4 hours.This is contrary to other stuff I've read, but it's true for me. 

The first time I made this was a Monday. I am blessed beyond all blessings to tend my grandkids on Mondays, so my baker Beth helped me before she went off to afternoon kindergarten. We watched some YouTube tutorials, looked at various recipes, reviewed what Cherie had sent by way of instruction, and we gave it a go. That night we had a couple dandy loaves of crusty bread. What a shock!

Truth is, I’m a fairly good cooker. I have a lot of experience standing at my stove top preparing meals. And I make some dependably delicious baked treats. But bread, and rolls? At that, I am a bonafide failure. I have stopped myself short of allowing "bread baking shame" to infuse into my psyche, because I am working on that shame thing. But I have yet to consistently pull nice fluffy rolls from my oven, or beautiful irresistible swirls of cinnamon rolls. So when this bread came out not only looking good, but feeling good, and tasting yummy … well, shock is the appropriate word.

Today is Monday again, and I had a nice plump chicken all cleaned and ready for roasting. Tessa and Beth were here with me today. Before I took her to kindergarten, Beth made, by herself (with just a little verbal guidance) dough for three loaves of crusty bread. We  baked it after school, when we put that chicken in the other oven. It had a seven hour rise.

I used the camera in my phone to preserve this image of little Beth working the dough, incorporating the dry and the wet. I watched her little hands repeat what I taught her:

"Pull it up - Push it down - Turn it around

 Pull it up - Push it down - Turn it around"

She repeated it in her sweet little girl voice as she kneaded the dough. She kneaded just enough to evenly incorporate the dry with the wet, but she did not overwork it, the way you might a regular loaf of bread. Kneading is a therapeutic art, and every human should know it. I thought of telling Beth that making bread is a microcosm of life, that most of what we do it just repeat-repeat-repeat. But I held my tongue, mostly because the Spirit in me told me she would figure that out for herself. 

Someday, my Bethy Boo, when you are tired of doing your homework, or you are sick of that one project at work, or you feel like the laundry pile will never ever ever end, or you will not be able to handle another chemo treatment... will you remember your old Gummy standing next to you showing you that the softest, crustiest, warmest, tastiest most nourishing things in life require a bit of repeat-repeat-repeat?

Beth and I are still in the process of adjusting this recipe.
Repeat - Refine - Repeat

Crusty Artisan Bread

3 loaves – 3 enamel pots

13 C flour

3 T dry yeast

2 T salt

6 c warm water

Mix all ingredients well in a large bowl.

Transfer the dough to a large ceramic bowl to rise. I have lately been dividing the dough into three pieces and letting each rise in their own ceramic bowl. Cover with a tea towel and let rise till roughly double. Time will vary, but you’ll need at least a few hours. I’ve done it in as few as three hours and as many as 12. Both turned out fine.

Place enamel pots in oven and turn it on to 425 degrees. Be sure lids are on the pots. Lids are essential.

While the pots are heating up, punch down dough and shape into balls. Place each loaf on a piece of parchment paper which has been sprinkled with roughly two tablespoons of corn meal. (I’ve used flour too, but corn meal is better) Basically you want a dry barrier between the paper and the dough. 

Cover the loaves and let rise for about 45 minutes while the pots heat up.

Slice the top of your dough loaves with a serrated knife. The loaf will spread apart where you cut it, and will look lovely when you bake it.

Take pots out of the oven (careful not to burn yourself). Remove the lids. Lift each loaf by the corners of the parchment paper and set in the pans, parchment and all. Replace the lid and put back in the hot over. The lid makes it steam inside, which forms the crispy crust. 

Bake with lid on at 425 degrees for 30 minutes.

Remove lids and bake an additional 15 minutes.

Remove from oven, lift bread out with parchment paper and cool on racks.

Our first try was ONE BIG LOAF.

Here are the ingredients:

6 ½  c flour

2 t.  salt

1 ½  T. yeast

3 c warm water