My second loaf of bread, Pane Siciliano, was complex.
Over the weekend the dough went through three stages of fermentation and proofing. Most of the time is spent waiting for the dough to do something.
Shaping it was tricky, because if I rolled the dough too much, or pushed it too hard, it would degas.1 If the dough lost the gas created by the yeast, the holes would disappear and the flavor would change.
The bread is pretty good with dips and oils, except the bottom is a bit crispy. Because the loaf is freestanding, I need a buy a baking stone to stop it from burning.
I’m happy with the way it looks and tastes. The book I have is excellent.
1. Who knew degas was a word? Because of school, I only see Edward Degas, but I’m guessing it’s de-gas, as in gasoline. I will use it from now on in this context: “It stinks. Did you just degas?”
Categories:creator, goals
One of my goals this year is to learn how to make bread, and here is my first loaf.
The recipe1 is from the book titled The Bread Baker’s Apprentice: Mastering the Art of Extraordinary Bread by Peter Reinhart.
Besides listing recipes the author also talks about the different chemical processes in bread making. The most surprising idea I learned was that the dough is kneaded not only to mix the ingredients, but to raise its temperature so the yeast activates.
Kneading was the fun bit even though it was a workout.
I also needed to take the temperature of the bread while it was baking. Each loaf needs to rise to a certain temperature, depending on the type of bread. In this way, bread is like turkey.
§
My flat mate saw me kneading the dough.
“That looks sticky.”
“Yes it’s sticky. I think I need to add more flour,” I said.
“You know my mom has a bread machine. You can borrow it if you want to make bread.”
“…”
“Would you like to borrow it?”
“No, you fool! I need to feel the dough between my fingers!”
1. Strangely this bread required brown rice, honey and buttermilk.
Categories:creator, goals
This month I moved into a new house with a blue roof. The beach is across the street and the Catholic Church Monastery of St. Gerard is above my home.
I have one complaint about my new abode. During our first morning together it tried to kill me.
It was a normal start to a normal day. I woke up late, as usual. I hit walls while walking to the bathroom and I fiddled with the temperature of the shower. I noticed the tub was unusually curved. When I groggily turned to grab the shampoo and sing like Ferris Bueller my feet lost their grip and, as usual, gravity was pitiless.
I fell in the tub. I was embarrassed, even though I was alone. I carefully stood up, dressed myself and went to the doctor. I thought I fractured a rib.
After giving me a series of hugs to assess the damage to my rib cage the doctor said, “You probably have a small fracture. Don’t be a pussy and go to work.”
Apparently I like to start a new year by breaking bones. One year ago I broke my toe. January is a dangerous month.
When I told a colleague at work I slipped in the tub, she said when her mother fell in the bath she broke her nose. When I told Richard about my accident, he said his grandfather died from slipping in the tub.
Be careful, reader. Tubs are dangerous.
Categories:jeffrey-ism, jinxed, kiwi-ism, life
Last week Amber and I grabbed a weekend deal with Air New Zealand. For $190 they provided flights to Christchurch, accommodation and tickets to a polo match, which included lunch and wine.
Besides watching the polo, I:
The polo started before noon and I was nervous. What was the etiquette? Was the match like the scene from Pretty Woman? Are we expected to stomp divots with hookers? Should we bring extra change to give to the poor, as if we were tossing stale bread to pigeons? Polo has that air about it.
When we arrived I snuck inside the marquee for reconnaissance. I registered our names and we were allocated seats for lunch, which was served after the second chukka.
Watching the game was fun because I’m scared of horses. When the polo “ponies” galloped past me, my heart skipped a beat. Horses are big.
During the fourth chukka a player was hit by a polo mallet. After he dismounted, his hands tried to catch the blood falling from his nose, without touching his nose. So I guess it was broken. He forgot his harden up pills at home so he was replaced with another player.
§
Last night was the New Zealand premiere of The Lovely Bones. We found a good spot along the red carpet outside the Embassy and waited for Peter Jackson and Susan Sarandon. It was my first movie premiere.
Sometimes living in New Zealand is exciting.
Categories:jeffrey-ism, kiwi-ism, life, memory
The end of the year is here. During the past two months I:
- celebrated Keith’s birthday in Martinborough
- ate Thanksgiving at C. & C.’s house with other members of my New Zealand family. So good! I had two helpings of turkey and two slices of pie for dessert. The evening ended with short blacks and port as the digestif
- joined a gym
And to briefly recap this year’s blogs I:
- broke a bone in January and pierced my ears in October with Amber
- travelled to Hawaii to see my parents, attended Mark and Jill’s wedding in Ireland, visited Sarah and John in London and backpacked my way through the South Island with Dan
- sold photographs at the New Zealand Affordable Art Show in Wellington. This was the first time I sold work to anonymous consumers
- modelled shirts for Webstock. This was the first time I modelled anything
This year has been better than average. I’ve snapped thousands of photos and some of them are worthy of the wall.
Work is good. Xero has grown so much since January 2009. During the past few months we’ve developed Xero Personal, a tool to help manage personal finances. Xero Personal makes me giddy.
At the start of each year I make a list of achievable goals for the next 12 months. The list reminds me to think about the future and throughout the year I endeavour to achieve each goal. Ordered by the level of difficulty, here is a rough guess at the start of my 2010 list:
- fire a gun. I’ve never fired a gun. Apparently an American who hasn’t fired a gun “should be shot”
- travel to a new continent. This will either be South America, Africa or Antarctica
- place first in a poker tournament. This is difficult as it depends the level of skill in the tournament
- publish a short story. This goal is old, and never marked as achieved. Finishing stories is difficult for me
- gain five kilograms. Fat chance, I hope
I rarely achieve an entire list. Gaining five kilograms will be impossible. But damn it I’ll try!
I hope you make goals and think about the future. Life is too short to fart around.
Categories:jeffrey-ism, memory
