After all the waiting and anticipation. Endlessly flapping my gums about wanting to do it. I finally got my chance to make a boule. That is french for round - to describe the shape of the sourdough bread I would be baking. Yes, can you believe it? I am finally getting my hands back to making the bread I love so much. Kind of ironic the french word for bread - pain. It so describes making this bread. I always have a plan. Then stuff happens.
It couldn’t be simple. And it likely cost the equivalent of what I could spend on bread here over a year. But that is not the point. Not sure if there is even a point at all. I just want to make bread. But I am sure I will say something philosophical at some point. Or maybe the title was enough?
Some people may be wondering - aren’t you living temporarily? Sort of travelling? Volunteering in a country at war. So yeah, making bread and buying things to go along with that exercise seems what all people do when they are away from home. Do I have a home? Forget it, another post for another day. Back to the bread. The whole cookie thing got the bug in me again. Baking, buying flour. It was inevitable. I did some online searches for items that could make sourdough baking the way I do it. Found them. One search led to a Pyrex casserole dish on sale. It would suffice and not be too costly should I not be able to take it with me down the road. I ordered it anyway. Then I had to check out the Lodge website to see if there was a way to get another combo cooker (like what I did in Mexico). I wanted to see if it was possible to get one here if I didn’t get my other one shipped to me (that might be expensive). I email the international distributor and discover they have a local store. I haven’t contacted them yet, but good to know in case my Pyrex dish doesn’t . . . oh god, he’s going to say it; he can’t resist it . . . pan out. I have also been toying with the idea of having my bread making items shipped to me. If this bread baking gets going I think I may have to have a box sent over. I miss my books. But I have yet to find an oven in this city that functions well enough. I’ll just need to get that wood fired oven I’ve always wanted. That will solve that problem.
While I was waiting for the Pyrex to be shipped to me, I was still feeding my starter. The cultures and microbes were growing and gaining strength. It was essentially strong enough to begin using to make bread. I was also in search of dish towels. One for covering the bowl while I am developing the gluten; one for acting as a proofing barrier in a bowl to help shape the dough (I can’t find bannetons anywhere). Maybe even one to place the boule in after baking to let cool. I have a lot of these items back in Canada. Oh you know I am going to get that box shipped. I can feel myself cracking every time I mention it. About those towels. I had been already looking around town occasionally. I did try and see if I could find one with some traditional Ukrainian hand stitching. After being quoted 1400 and 1500 hryvnias I politely said not today. The search continued.
Another thing I did while I was waiting was to sneak in a quick bread bake. I have written up that story (you know it needed a write up). Just undecided whether I will share it here or if I may take the plunge with an additional page dedicated to the baking shenanigans. I know, I know - what did you bake!?! Not only am I good with biscottis, but I am also pretty damn good with focaccias. This one was a happy accident. But one that may have affirmed my right to finally call myself a baker. Here is a sneak peek at how it turned out.
Not sure how good of an idea it was to bake up a winner like that. The expectations will be up there for the sourdough. I have been talking up wanting to bake a sourdough loaf for so long. And most of the ladies know I have a starter going. One of the ladies is anticipating the first loaf. When do we get to try? I finally got the notification late in the afternoon on Saturday, just after serving the focaccia, that my delivery has arrived. I will have to pick it up Monday.
On Sunday I do the rounds trying to find the dish towels. No luck. I do come away with some more flour. Damn I am up to three bags of flour in my stash right now. No, no, I am not done. We haven’t gotten to Monday yet. When I get home I decide to get a few things done, throw on my comfies and call it a day. Its a rainy day out. I wanted to just chill out. And I had my cookie mistakes to look forward to. Yes, I judged one of my experiments from the day before a little to harshly.
Focaccia was not the only bake item on the menu Saturday. While I waited for my focaccia to do its final rise I decided to experiment on a version of my oatmeal raisin cookie. Yup, I was using the left side oven. Whoo-wee they got a tan. The other oven I caught before too much browning. Instantly I was disappointed and decided on taking another crack at it, but with an alteration. I bake the focaccia next, then did another batch of the cookies. The second batch comes out more to my liking. I don’t even let people taste the first batch. I thought they were going to the soldiers, but the lady in charge of the Sunday table said she wanted all of them to sell. I held back most of the first batch. When I got home that night it was late. I decided not to make a late dinner. Ugh, all those cookies. I am going to punish myself by making some of them my dinner. That will teach me not to screw up like that again. I lay out three and put the rest in the freezer. I should have had four. They were actually pretty good. The ones I had the next day while I was relaxing were even more of a pleasant surprise. I should not judge by the looks. Taste test will be the deciding step.
Monday would be leg day at the gym, but I call an audible and decide the first thing I will do is pick up the Pyrex dish. That went relatively well. I drop it off at home. Okay, have the Pyrex, and the starter. I need those towels. I do a search for a particular home store and see one is about a half hour walk from where I was staying. They should have something. I decide to have a snack and wait for my laundry to be done. Then I head out - again. I pick the route that takes me through Stryiskyi Park. Its a large park in the city. It was a nice walk for me. A cool and misty fall day.
I manage to find the store and the towels. Not a bad pattern and colour. Worth the excursion. I am also not picky at this point. I need these. There is a grocery store in the same building. I try and check and see if they have the particular flour I am looking for. No luck. I need to go all the way back toward the city center. More walking. But it was supposed to be leg day. So it is my penance. Later I discovered that not everyone in the city shared my enjoyment of this weather. I am the only person in the city wearing shorts. People are staring. You should have seen the heads in the crowded trams and buses. Hey, I am from Canada! I find the flour I needed at the other grocery store. And one other. Yes, I am now at five bags of flour. One I did inherit from some people who left theirs behind. It still feels ridiculous.
Time to go home and get ready for a day of volunteering. I make a decent lunch and then do a discard and feeding of my starter. I plan to have it at its peak for later in the day. I have what I need to take a crack at making a loaf. Except a scale, but that I can get from the packaging place. I’ll just need to take one with me when I need to go home to bake. Easy-peasy.
I get through some boxes of meals to prepare for the soldiers. Then I get word that some supplies are coming. And my cling wrap. I was waiting on a roll so I could cut up the nutrition/energy bars I made last week. I’ll get those cut up and wrapped up, then head home and bake. Simple. Some more people arrive and a bit of commotion starts. A little re-arranging of the room. I was just about to start on wrapping the bars. Its not happening right now. My area is taken over for something. Looks like a group meal. I move the supplies to another room. I get some cuts started, and then the call to join everyone at the table comes. I can eat and then finish the wrapping later.
We have a nice meal. I finish my third helping, and then excuse myself. They all know that I am on a schedule to get the bread baked. I thought I could sneak in the bar wrapping. Seems the other area I was in got taken over. I tried a third place. Worst option. I pack up everything and decide to wrap the bars while I do the bread baking. I get everything I need - yes, everything - and head home. I get all my baking items prepared and ready. I decide to get the bar wrapping started. My starter is pretty much at the point I wanted it to be. Dammit!! The scale. Told you I had everything. Oh why.
I finish off the bars and head back to the packaging place. They can all see me walking past the windows. I can already hear them through the open window. I enter the doorway and they are all just staring and laughing. I told them I was back just to get a scale. More laughing. I go back home. Time to measure out the recipe for the dough. Oh, it should be simple as well.
I am all prepped and ready. Following the steps, just based on a one loaf amount and not the dough for two loaves. I am doing a 400 gram loaf, not the recipe for 1000 grams. Everything is set. I do my float test to see if my starter is ready. We are a go. I get the flour all weighed out. Then to get the flour and water mixed together and allow them to autolyse. Next step is to add the salt and some of the water. I get them measured out.
Yup, it happens here. I measure out the salt for the lesser dough amount (400 gram recipe), but the water for the full dough amount (for a 1000 gram recipe). I only realize this after I add the salt and water. Man is this dough not thirsty? It looked shaggy and dry. It is just not taking some of the water. The salt is definitely going to dissolve. Then it hits me. Yup, I miscalculated the water amount. Suddenly my 70-ish percent dough has jumped into the 80’s. We are officially a high hydration dough. Will be a little tougher to work with, but nothing I haven’t seen before. Yes, I have made this error more times than I haven’t. Should make for a nice and airy crumb if things go well for the rest of the bake prep. I will work my dough tonight. Give it an overnight ferment. Then bake it first thing in the morning. All according to plan.
Then I get an email that my resident card is ready and my consultant wants to meet at the immigration office at nine in the morning. That is . . was my bake time. Faaak!! I may as well stay up into the night and bake it then. Or get up really early and hope I get it all done so I don’t miss my appointment. Frig me. Did I say simple? Did I use the word plan? Why did I announce that I am going to bake a loaf of bread to bring in. I am going to go to a nice bakery in the morning, buy a beautiful loaf and pawn it off as something I baked. That is a plan. That is simple. Starting to see why this post got its title?
The problem with the overnight ferment is that it is likely better to have it in the fridge after a shaping. But this fridge has actually frozen some of my stuff. And there is really no shelf that can hold the bowl the dough is in. Lets set the alarm for 5 am. Did your mind already go there? Let me still tell you what happened. I figured to do a shaping and then a long proofing would just not work. So I decided to have a long bulk ferment in the cool temperature kitchen. Then see what things would be like after an initial shaping in the morning. Getting up at 5 am should give me sufficient time. Now time to wind down and hopefully get a few hours sleep. Its after midnight.
Laa-la-la-la-laaaa. Just lying here in my bed waiting for my alarm to go off. I must have woken up really early to be waiting this long. Hmm, its probably been over an hour of tossing and turning. I really could use this time to check on the dough. Lets see how much longer until my alarm goes off. [Turns on phone]. 5:46 am. You knew it didn’t you. Never has this alarm fail. I checked all the settings. Someone is fuking with me. Mad dash into the kitchen. We have a noticeable increase in volume for the dough. Even some fermentation bubbles that look like they want to burst. Lets just keep on going and see what the hell I can do. The dough can go in the oven no later than about 7:30 am if I am to give it enough time and make my appointment.
I get the dough out of the bowl and on to the counter. It still has very little structure. Shaping this will be difficult. And there will not be sufficient time to do a shaping and a proper proofing. I get the dough into a shape and let it rest for twenty minutes. Now the actual shaping. I had it at a decent point and then one motion too many. I began to see a tear in the outer skin, and can feel tackiness of the dough on the counter. Should have just stopped short and placed it in the proofing set up I had. Whatever. I get it in a container for the proofing. I bring it in my room where it is warmer. I lay down for a rest and try to triage the rest of the time I have left. I need to shower and eat as well. Its approximately 6:20 am. I decide to shower at 7 am. This gives the dough some added time to proof. Around 7:15 am I take a peek and do a poke test. The dough seems to rebound in a manner that shows me that I can give it a shot. I try and delay as long as I can. 7:30 am. Time to get this set in the Pyrex and score it. I don’t score it very deeply. In she goes. I have the oven on at its maximum temperature. Its old, and I do not know how well it works. Time to trust.
I decided to eat just to give myself a distraction. It is a form of torture because I can see through this oven door, and the Pyrex. I loved the Lodge combo cooker because it forced some mystery on me. I usually wait about twenty-two minutes before removing the top cover. I don’t see much oven spring at the fifteen minute mark. There is something, but not anything that looks like a ‘spring’. I give it more time with the lid on. After thirty minutes I decide that there won’t be much more rise and the loaf needs some bake on the exterior. Having the lid on too long may present the issue of a dense interior (not much moisture escape). Trying to remove the top cover without oven gloves was fun. Burned the two middle fingers on my left hand. Yup, theres the redness and swelling I expected. I let the bake go to almost 8:25 am. This is now approximately 50 minutes of baking. Longer than I wanted.
The boule comes out and into one of the dish towels. The crust did not open evenly. A likjely combination of too cold room temperature while developing the dough; and not a hot enough oven. Not a deep or even enough scoring, so the crust broke in an uneven fashion. Never had that before. I will let it cool and go to my appointment. I have left myself enough time to get there without rushing. Cool morning so will be a nice walk. I will assess further when I get back.
My appointment was to pick up my temporary residence card. Kind of a bitter-sweet thing. On one hand it is nice to get this process approved. But the circumstance around why I am getting the permit is not great. I am choosing to stay longer because the war is continuing. And I get the sense that the people here really want and need whatever help they can get. It is actually hard to consider leaving at this point. This decision will have some future consequences for me. But I am deciding to put that aside and just continuing to help. I keep most of my writing positive and humourous, but this country and the people will need help for years and years to come. What has happened so far is truly devastating. Okay, back to the light stuff.
At my appointment they need to do a quick verification. And another finger print scan. They only needed one finger. Thank goodness, because a couple of my fingers are so swollen from the baking burn that I am not sure how accurate a reading they would get compared to the prints they scanned at my previous appointment. I get my card in hand.
As part of my congratulations from the consultant I worked with, I was given an incredible gift. And something I have actually wanted for such a long time.
At this point I am less concerned with how the loaf of bread turned out. There are bigger issues out there. And I know all I need to do is make another one. Just need to make sure I stick to the proper ratios. I figured out some variables to change to help improve my next loaf.
With what I just described to you, can you tell me what I can advise for the ‘Prep Time’, the ‘Bake Time’, or any other aspect that recipe searchers want to know about? How can I tell anyone oh it should only take you . . . The only thing I can admit to was this was Pain. Maybe the French knew what you will go through in order to achieve the perfect loaf. As in life you will experience pain. Maybe there is a little of that in the expression ‘Bread is Life’.
Yup, the divider is for the next chapters or the addendums.
I decided to wear my Vyshyvanka when I went in to the packaging place. There were only two ladies in there. They always have a friendly hello and goodbye, but we have never really chatted (me and my lack of language). They approved of how I looked in my new shirt. So I decided to show them the reason why I was wearing it. The first lady couldn’t read the residency card (she indicated that she didn’t have her reading glasses), so she handed it to the other lady. She begins to look it over and explains what the card is. Then she begins to read my last name. It starts out as if she is expecting a foreign name. Se-me-ni-uk. But as she is reading it she is realizing she knows this kind of last name. So she says it again but a little faster (still some hesitation) - Se-meni-uk. She then realizes that it is a common and authentic Ukrainian last name. She says it a third time - Semeniuk! She looks up and says it to me as if hey, you are the real deal, this is a Ukrainian name. The other lady turns with a look of pleasant surprise.
I have seen both these ladies for a several weeks. They come in a few times a week to volunteer. Wouldn’t you know it, the lady who didn’t have her reading glasses comes over later with her phone to mention that her daughter is single, and shows me a picture of her. Another lady does some translating for us as comments and laughter goes on. Then I am informed that she is also a doctor. I so wanted to ask if she likes cookies. I don’t know if I poses the Kavorka like Kramer (from Seinfeld) had. Sometimes it feels like I do - me and my blue eyes and nice smile. But it had to be the shirt. It was like when you watch those superhero shows and something changes when they put on their costumes. You know I was hearing that song (Staying Alive) from Saturday Night Fever when I was walking down the street after - Well you can tell by the way I use my walk . . .
I decided to make it a short day in order to give it another shot at making a sourdough boule. I just wasn’t happy with this first attempt. I prepared my starter before I headed over to the packaging place. I need to deliver a better loaf. The variables I would be adjusting were: not over hydrating my dough; preheating my Pyrex like I would normally do with my cast iron combo cooker; reducing the amount of Spelt flour in the flour mix; and lastly using some cling wrap over the bowl of developing dough in order to add some heat (not just the dish towel around the bowl).
I execute the adjustments and don’t make any errors on the measurements. The changes helped somewhat. But judging by how the second loaf turned out, I need to work in a warmer space. My dough simply can’t ferment properly or get the rise or increase in volume.
I still brought the loaf in. Oh how I hated the moment they asked me to cut the bread so we could all have some kanapky (their local term for open face sandwiches). I knew the faults in the bread already. Seeing the crumb structure would only confirm it. I feared a dense and still moist crumb. Yup, signs of over proofing. Too cool of a room temperature was one thing, not enough tension in the dough was another. Lessons for the next loaf.
The ladies were all quite nice about it. Compliments as they ate the bread. Nothing like a good turkey liver pâté to save the bread. Although I kept hearing магазин (store or shop in Ukrainian). I think they were saying it is just like from a store. Or maybe they were asking if someone could go to the store. Who knows. Let me enjoy my denial. I’ll wow them some day.
Oh, and about the nutrition/energy bars. I saw they were wrapping and preparing their usual and popular bars, so I asked if mine could get sent out with them (I was not sure when mine would ever get picked up). So a lady takes the tray to go and ask. She returns eating some of one. Guess they had to sample them to see (oh how the ladies like to sample my stuff). The feedback on the bar was wow, they are better than the ones we make. Think there will be some happy soldiers soon. Will be interesting to see what their feedback is.