Pear-Hazelnut Ciabatta

From looking at the above picture, you'd think this was just another ciabatta, right? Simply a different flavor combination than the one posted last week. And you'd be right of course, except that, as always, "l'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux" (what is essential remains invisible to the eyes, as the fox explains to the curious little boy in Le Petit Prince).
Indeed, beyond the listed ingredients, what got baked into this bread is friendship and love and the gratefulness that fills my heart for the support you have steadfastly afforded us since tragedy struck. Frankly I couldn't have made it so far so soon without your help. Each of your comments and emails has reached my heart and added a brick to the foundation on which healing may one day begin. Thank you!
The realization came to me as I was gathering what I needed for this bread: the stone-ground whole wheat flour with golden specks of bran came from a baker on Vancouver Island, the round and plump hazelnuts from a friend's farm in the Fraser Valley, the dried pears from a local friend who is rebuilding his home (as he will be without an oven for more than a year, he kindly brought me all -and I do mean all- his baking supplies). The levain was the distant progeny of the one sent to me last year by another friend on Orcas Island. The apron around my waist was a present from a friend in Maine.
I was  making the ciabatta for a friend from France who will be visiting next month: she lives above a bakery on a quiet street in a city near Paris. She has never eaten homemade bread in her life. 
As I stood thinking of her, weighing each ingredient in turn, I remembered the kindness and passion of the baker who had shared it with me and I suddenly realized that beyond the eagerly awaited guest and my baking friends, all of you were in the kitchen with me as well, still present eight and a half months later, still caring, still remembering Noah and still striving not only to show support but also to prevent further acts of random violence like the one which had devastated the Newtown families. I could never thank you enough. This ciabatta is dedicated to you.
It was inspired by the cool front which has hung over our valley for the past few days: mist rising from the river at dawn, odd leaves turning bright red, apples and pears hanging heavier in the gardens that line the trail, humming birds dancing at the feeders as if already gearing up for the long trip south. 
Cliff Mass, our beloved local meteorologist, says summer isn't over yet and I believe him. Still I have seen the writing on the landscape and distant memories of fall have come drifting back. The yellowing fruit against the old stonewall in my grandfather's orchard, the ripe hazelnuts falling off their husks under the thicket by the chicken coop, we kids filling our pockets before heading out for a day's adventures, the breath of a faraway and long-ago garden brought back by the smell of damp grass as I bend to pick up the paper from my Northwest driveway every morning. Threads of life woven together. Past and present. Love and loss. Being part of a larger whole, of a living tapestry. Separate, yet connected.
A comforting thought to go with the first bread of fall.

Pear-Hazelnut Ciabatta

The method is the same as the one I described in my previous post with minor changes.

• The oatmeal I used was a leftover from breakfast the day before, it hadn't been cooked with baking in mind and was therefore a bit runnier than I would have liked. Had I made oatmeal specifically for this ciabatta, I would have reduced by half the amount of cooking water. As it is, I can't tell you how much water I used because I never measured it. I adjusted for the wet oatmeal by reducing the amount of water added to the dough in the final mix.
• I soaked the pears only briefly (three minutes only and in boiling water) and used the soaking water (which smelled delicious) in the dough.
• The hazelnuts I roasted and peeled, then ground coarsely in a flat bowl with the thich bottom of a small bottle of balsamic vinegar. The grinding was no hassle. But the peeling was rough: I had never truly appreciated before how convenient it was to have two hands when rubbing hazelnuts together. 
• I didn't soak the hazelnuts but right before incorporating them into the dough, I gently hand-mixed them with the pears so that some of the wetness would rub onto them and they wouldn't be as likely to suck up water from the fermenting dough. Next time I might try and soak them briefly as they may have dried out the dough a bit.

Ingredients (for 3 ciabattas)

• 450 g unbleached all-purpose flour
• 150 g whole-wheat flour
• 150 g wholegrain steel-cut oats, cooked, barely salted, unsweetened, at room temperature
• Water 1: 300 g
• Water 2: 75 g
• 150 g dried pears, roughly chopped, soaked for three minutes in boiling water (unless they were super dry and hard, I wouldn't soak them any longer for fear of their turning to mush)
• 80 g hazelnuts, roasted, peeled and coarsely ground
• 150 g ripe liquid levain (100% hydration)
• 150 g ripe poolish (75 g flour + 75 g water + a pinch of instant yeast)
• 18 g fine sea salt

Method (the bread is made over two days)

The night before

1. Feed the levain
2. Prepare the poolish
3. Roast, peel and chop the hazelnuts

Early on the day of the bake (at least two hours before mixing begins)

• Roughly chop the pears and soak them to cover for three minutes in boiling water
• Drain, saving the water

Mixing 

1. Pour water 1 (including pear-soaking water) in bowl of mixer
2. Add all-purpose flour, whole-wheat flour, oatmeal, levain and poolish
3. Mix on low speed until incorporated
4. Add the salt
5. Mix on low speed until gluten is developed
6. Add water 2 (slowly and in stages) and crank up speed one notch
7. Mix briefly (just until the water is incorporated)
8. Bring speed back down to low and add pears and hazelnuts
9. Mix until incorporated
10. Set dough to rise in oiled and covered pan

• Dough temperature was 80°F/26°C and room temperature 72°F/22°C
• I gave the dough two folds at 50 minute-intervals
• Fermentation time was 4 hours, followed by 45-minutes proofing time (I am not sure why the dough fermented faster than last week. Maybe the sugar in the pears sped up the process?)

Dividing and Baking

As described for the teff ciabatta

• Except that I set the oven to 410°F/210°C for the first 15 minutes
• And lowered it to 400°F/204°C afterwards to prevent the crust from darkening too much (again because of the sugar in the pears)
• I also tented the ciabattas with aluminum foil after the first 15 minutes
• I used steam at the beginning and kept the oven door ajar for the last five minutes

Morning Cuddle Bread with Oats, Plums and Hazelnuts

The anxiety of influence is most certainly a reality for some. After all, a whole book has been written on the subject (although the author probably didn't have the art of baking in mind) but I am happy to report I don't suffer from it. I love leisurely browsing through books and/or exploring online worlds and letting ideas wash over me, leaving behind precious little nuggets of inspiration. Sometimes - and that's the most fun - these nuggets combine to form something completely different.
That's how the morning cuddle bread came to be. A couple of weeks ago a British Columbia food podcast had pointed me towards an oatmeal, walnut and plum bread, which the Man pronounced to be a wonderful breakfast bread...

...and as I was contemplating what to bake for him for Valentine's Day, I remembered another fruit and nut bread I had once bookmarked in Les 20 meilleurs ouvriers de France et médaillés d'argent se dévoilent et vous offrent leurs recettes choisies, a book put together by l'Équipe de France de boulangerie (the French Baking Team) in the early 90's.  What I had liked most about it was its endearing shape (two entertwined pieces of dough) and its name, pain câlin du matin (literally morning cuddle bread).

Oven-roasted hazelnuts

The two recipes got reborn as one: from Chef Bruce (the British Columbia baker), I retained the idea of the plums (the Man is a huge plum fan!) and the nuts (but instead of the walnuts, I used the fragrant hazelnuts my friend Meeghen had brought me from her own orchard). I also stayed with the mix of wheat (whole-grain and all-purpose) and oatmeal (I love the tenderness of an oatmeal crumb). From the French recipe - by Gérald Biremont, "meilleur ouvrier de France" (best artisan baker in France) - I took the shape and the name. After all, what's more appropriate on Valentine's Day morning that a sweet little cuddle?

Interestingly both recipes call for a straight dough but I always prefer using a preferment: the bread keeps better, if nothing else, and I find it tastier too. So I reinterpreted the Canadian recipe to use both a poolish (made with only a speck or two of instant yeast) and some levain. It took its own sweet time to ferment but, hey, Valentine Day comes around only once a year. Besides the dough did all the work, leaving the cuddling to us...

Ingredients: (for 8 morning cuddle breads or 4 cuddle breads and a loaf)

For the poolish

• 280 g all-purpose flour
• 280 g water 
• one tiny pinch of instant yeast (0.06 g)

For the final dough

• 200 g mature white starter at 100% hydration
• 320 g all-purpose flour
• 150 g white whole wheat flour
• 115 g old-fashioned oat flakes, coarsely ground in a food processor
• 180 g water  (amount to be adjusted up or down depending on your flours, the humidity in the air, etc.)
• 100 g oven-roasted hazelnuts, roughly peeled and chopped
• 110 g dried plums, roughly chopped
• 19 g salt

Method: (this bread is made over two days since the starter and the poolish both need to be fed the evening before and to ferment overnight)

1. The night before, mix the poolish and feed the starter. Let both ferment overnight at room temperature (if very warm where you live, fermentation could be faster, which means you may need to adjust your schedule accordingly)
2. On baking day, mix the flours, the starter, the poolish and the water until all the ingredients are well distributed and all flour is hydrated. Let rest for 20 minutes
3. Add salt and mix on low speed until a soft pliable dough is formed (don't overmix)
4. Add the plums and hazelnuts and mix gently (I find it easier to take the dough out of the mixer at this stage and mix in the fruit and nuts by hand)
5. Set in an oiled container and let rise until at least doubled (it took close to 6 hours at 72°F/22°C)
6. Divide in two pieces of roughly 850 g each
7. If you want to make only cuddle breads, then divide each of these pieces in 8 and make 8 baguette-shaped cylinders. Twist them together by pairs. If you want 4 cuddle breads and one loaf, divide and shape accordingly
8. Proof until doubled in size (in my case, it took one hour and a half at 72°F/22°C). Pre-heat oven to 400°F/204°C
9. When ready bake for 15 minutes (with steam the first five minutes) then check the color and if necessary turn oven down a bit. Turn the breads 180° and bake another 15 minutes. They will be ready when they have a rich color and sound hollow when thumped on the bottom.
10. Cool on a rack!

Enjoy!

The morning cuddle bread is going to Susan for Yeastspotting.

Noah Elber's Maple-Oatmeal Bread

Noah Elbers's Maple-Oatmeal Bread (as sold at the bakery)

Related post: Meet the Baker: Noah Elbers

Since discovering Noah Elbers's Maple-Oatmeal Bread (and before I learned how to make it myself), I have bought maple-oatmeal breads from other bakeries, including in Vermont. I have yet to find one that can compare. I even remember being so put off by one of these other loaves that I cut it into small pieces, took it to the lake and fed it to the ducks (who, having no basis for comparison, seemed to like it way more than we did). It is hard to describe the flavor of Noah's maple-oatmeal bread other than to say that it is barely sweet, supremely delicate and very, very addictive.

Noah Elbers's maple-oatmeal bread (as sold at the bakery)

I watched the making of this bread from the mixing of the dough through the shaping but since it was going to be baked much later (after retarding) and we needed to drive back home, I didn't see the baking. 

Here is Noah's formula in baker's percentages:

60% all-purpose flour

20% whole-wheat flour (+ 10% each in starter and in poolish) = 100%

20% cooked steel-cut oatmeal

44% water

2.2% salt

16% pure maple syrup

20% liquid starter

20% poolish (made with a pinch of instant yeast)

All liquids together = 75%

Pointers:

• Starter and poolish: 12-hour fermentation at 75°F/24°C
• Oatmeal: Scale equal weight of oats and water. Boil the water, pour it over the oats, stir, cover and bake in the oven at a temperature of about 410°F/210°C for 40 minutes. The oats absorb all the water and by the time they are mixed with the maple syrup, they form an "oat chunk" rather than oatmeal. The water used to cook the oats is not included in the total water percentage
• Autolyse: 20 to 30 minutes
• Desired dough temperature: 77 to 78°F/25 to 26°C
• Bulk fermentation: 2.5 hours with 5 folds after 50 minutes and 5 folds again after 40 minutes
• No pre-shaping
• Scaling: at 24 ounces/680 g
• Shaping: as a boule or as an oval
• Proofing: 45 minutes on the floor (at least 1 hour at home where the temperature is probably lower) then 14 to 15 hours in the retarder with the cover on
• Baking: at 400-415°F/204-213°C for 35-40 minutes with lots of steam at the beginning

The first time I made the bread, I miscalculated the amounts (not surprisingly, since I truly am mathematically challenged) and used way too much water. I tried to rescue the dough but to no avail. It spread so much on the parchment paper that I thought I had totally messed up and would for sure get another treat for the ducks. What I got instead was a weird looking but delicious maple-oatmeal ciabatta which we found particularly enjoyable at breakfast. Before we tasted it, I was so mad at having messed up that I didn't take any pictures but I should have: the bread was rather too dark for a ciabatta and a bit flatter too but the crumb was perfect, delectable and open. I think I will actually make it again...

The second time was at my kids' house in the Northwest. Having no access to baskets of any kind, I shaped the dough as a boule and proofed it directly on a couche. It rose beautifully in the oven and even though it again turned out darker than I would have liked (the oven was way too hot), the taste was almost spot on.

However since I didn't want to end up with a ciabatta again and since I had no proofing baskets, I had reduced the amount of water to make sure the dough wouldn't be too slack. The end result is that I got a tighter crumb than the one I was shooting for.

(By the way, I am sorry for the poor quality of these two pictures. It was very dark out and raining and nowhere in the house could I get enough of the natural light I would have liked to work with.)

Ingredients:

• 447 g all-purpose unbleached flour
• 151 g whole-wheat flour
• 151 g steel-cut oatmeal, cooked as described above
• 328 g water
• 151 g liquid starter
• 151 g poolish
• 121 g pure maple syrup
• 16 g salt

Method:

Note 1: The starter has to be fed and the poolish mixed the night before

Note 2: Poolish recipe: 100g flour + 1 pinch of instant yeast + 100g water. Mix well and leave to ferment overnight, preferably at warmish room temperature (above 70°F/21°C if possible)

Note 3: Noah retards this bread for 14 to 15 hours. I didn't do it (there was no room in the refrigerator) and even though the bread still turned out quite tasty, next time I will retard it and see if the flavor becomes even more complex (it should). Also, since I had no access to a mixer, I mixed the dough by hand.

1. I mixed all the ingredients except the salt in a big bowl and let the dough rest for 30minutes, covered
2. I mixed everything again to medium soft consistency, covered the bowl (dough temperature by then was 75°F/24°C ) and applied the 5-folds regimen recommended by Noah (see pointers above). Total bulk fermentation time was three hours at room temperature (72°F/22°C)
3. I skipped pre-shaping, shaped the whole dough as one single boule and let it proof for two hours covered, on cornmeal-dusted parchment paper (I had no semolina), again at room temperature
4. I pre-heated the oven at 475°F/246°C half-an-hour prior to baking time, after placing an old metal pan at the bottom and a half-sheet on the middle rack (my kids have no baking stone in their oven)
5. I slid the boule with the parchment paper underneath on the half-sheet, quickly poured one cup of water in the metal pan and closed the door
6. I immediately lowered the oven temperature to 450°F/232°C and let the bread bake for 25 minutes without opening the door
7. I then rotated the bread, lowered the oven temperature to 420°F/216°C and continued the baking for another 20 minutes.

As indicated above and obvious from the picture, I started with an oven which was way too hot and I didn't lower the temperature enough afterwards. Oh, well, that's how we learn, isn't it? Noah bakes this bread at 415-425°F/213-218°C and, according to him, even at that lower temperature it colors quickly, much like it would in a hotter oven, maybe because of all the steam coming off the baking loaves or the materials his oven is made of or the heat or a combination of all these factors. Basically the home baker will have to find the temperature that works the best in his/her oven for this bread. But even if it comes out a bit too dark for your taste at first, I bet you will love it!

Noah Elber's Maple-Oatmeal Bread goes to Susan's Wild Yeast Blog for this week's issue of Yeastspotting.