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.

Nice and Naughty: Butterless Brioche and Plastered Plums

...or will it be naughty and nice? Your call!

For the brioche recipe, look no further than Tartine Bread by Chad Robertson. If you don't own it and your local library can't get it for you, you could go browse the book on the amazon.com website, look inside and search for brioche. If you are lucky enough (I was the first time I tried), it will let you browse pages 151-152 where you'll find the olive oil brioche recipe. Alternatively if you speak Spanish or don't mind using Google Translate, you can check out Madrid Tiene Miega, the blog where I got the idea of making this dessert bread to accompany the wickedest, meanest, craziest plums I have ever had the pleasure of serving.

Tartine's olive oil brioche has a delicate and complex taste. I was a bit hesitant to use our regular extra-virgin olive oil as I thought it might be a bit too fruity but Chad says to use a strong-flavored oil, so I went for it and found that it played a wonderfully supportive role to the poolish and the levain. You don't actually taste it (at least I couldn't) but you definitely taste more than slowly fermented grain. A truly intriguing combination. The original recipe calls for orange-blossom water, which may not be easy to find if you don't have access to a Mid-Eastern market. If that's the case, steeping a few crushed cardamom pods or whole saffron threads in the warm milk for a few minutes is a good substitute. Both go well with the taste of the brioche provided you err on the side of caution with the amount of spice and you make sure to strain the milk before using it in the dough. Skipping the extra flavor is also an option.

I had no luck finding orange-blossom water, so I used green cardamom pods (3 g total which I crushed in a mortar with a pestle). I halved the original amounts given in the book for all the ingredients (which I now regret as it would have been just as easy to make the whole batch and freeze half), especially as the dough is a pain to work with. It is super wet and looks like pancake batter for the longest time. I must tell you as well that I ended up adding about 120 g of flour to make it finally come together. I also switched the mixer to high speed - instead of medium - for the final couple of minutes. That may explain why I got a tighter crumb than I had been shooting for.

Halved, the recipe yielded one big brioche and about 20 small ones (scaled at 50 g raw). In half-a-dozen of those (the ones which were to accompany another dessert), I hid two or three of the exquisite chocolate-covered cherries my friend Kim, a talented baker if I ever saw one, had sent me from Wisconsin (thank you, Kimmy!). I love the tangy taste of cherries both with cardamom and with saffron although I don't know how well it would fare with orange-blossom water. The crumb looks a bit dry on the picture below and it was: since I had forgotten to take a crumb shot, I had to photograph the last surviving brioche. It was 5 days old...

I just gave you nice. Ready for naughty? Read on!

Back in France when I was growing up, dried plums were these dark oblong unidentified objects which were so hard that you had to soak and simmer them before you could eat them. Once cooked, they tasted watery and you had to watch out for the pit or you'd crack your teeth. I never liked them then but they were supposedly good for us, so in the winter they appeared regularly as a dessert on our dinner table. Some years later, we had fleshier ones which we pitted, stuffed with almond paste and rolled in crystallized sugar. They were a special Christmas treat and definitely a step up!

But now, oh now, I have stumbled upon a completely different beast, one that will probably remain forever my ultimate winter after-dinner treat: dried plums slow-soaked in vodka... It definitely takes a while for them to bloom into their magnificent taste and texture, so even though it might be tempting to make them for the holidays this year, if I were you, I would just make them now and then wait until the end of January to enjoy them. They will be an excellent antidote to the winter doldrums and, provided you are not tailgating it and having to drive home but watching the game on your couch with nowhere else to go, you might even make them the star of your Super Bowl party if there are no teenagers around (although as long as you tell them it's prunes, they probably won't go near the stuff anyway).

The fruit sold in some parts of the country as California prunes and in others as California dried plums (isn't it interesting that some states are more prune-tolerant than others?) has almost nothing in common with what I knew as a child. It is fleshy to the point of quasi-roundness and it has been pitted. It is quite tasty on its own if you actually like dried plums, which I do.

Now every summer, back when I lived in France as a grown-up, I used to make "framboises à l'eau-de-vie" (raspberries in brandy, literally acqua vitae) with a special spirit they sell over there just for macerating fruit. Since raspberries were delicious and plentiful this summer in the Pacific Northwest, I decided to preserve some in brandy for the winter. I couldn't find a suitable brandy at the local liquor store however, so I used vodka (100-proof). It does pack a wallop. A less potent version would do just as well, I suspect.

The vodka-marinated raspberries retained their plump shape and even some of their color and they looked pretty but the taste wasn't what I was looking for. Of course the reason could be that I really don't like vodka, never did and probably never will and they tasted like vodka flavored with children's cough syrup (probably because I misguidedly decided to flavor the vodka with a few hyssop leaves). In any case, not a success...

I was contemplating the berries and wondering what to do with the leftover vodka (I had bought a large bottle) when I had a sudden flash of inspiration. Since I always keep dried plums in the house, why not try and see if they would work? After the raspberry fiasco, I had little hope. Still, ever the optimist, I took a small jar (one which had contained jam or jelly in another life) and packed it tight with the fruit, then filled it with vodka (not the raspberry-infused vodka but fresh vodka) to the brim, screwed the lid back, put it away and forgot about it for six weeks.

When we opened the jar, the vodka was gone! It had mostly been soaked up by the fruit and whatever was left had turned into a syrupy boozy liqueur which tasted fantastic. I have since made two big jars of the plums, one which I am keeping at low temperature (in the garage actually) and the other one at room temp, just to see if it makes a difference (I'll let you know if you are interested but I won't find out for another four weeks). I have also added some vodka to the new jars at the two-week mark as I found the plums had been at the sauce again and the top ones were no longer covered. But one thing you need to know is that each time you add vodka you are thinning out the liquor which means you will have to wait longer until you can fully savor the plums. In other words you have to choose between having more or having sooner. As I said, it's your call...

The Butterless Brioche and Plastered Plums will be going to Susan for Yeastspotting, her weekly roundup of breads and other baked goodies.

Plum Yogurt Spelt Cake with Butter Crumb Topping

As some of the Italian plums bought last week were beginning to look a little soft, I was sorely tempted to make the Crunchy-Topped Whole-Wheat Plum Cake for which Marian Burros published a recipe in the New York Times at the beginning of the month. I even purchased some Irish butter at Trader Joe's for that purpose but then I couldn't bring myself to make a cake so rich that the Man shouldn't be eating and, I knew full well, would eat nevertheless. I still had The Bread Bible by Beth Hensperger, which I had taken out of the library last week, and as I was desultorily browsing through it, I came across a yeasted plum crumb cake that I thought would do the trick. The recipe called for buttermilk and sour cream, neither of which I had on hand, but I did have creamy plain non-fat Greek yogurt and I decided to go for it. Naturally, half-way through, I realized that I didn't have a cake pan with a removable bottom either but by then, I was committed and I decided to go with the flow and use whatever pan we had. Feeling all virtuous and reasonable for renouncing the buttery plum cake, I also decided it wouldn't hurt anybody's health to make the topping Beth recommends. It calls for half-a-stick of butter which equals less than 60 g (or 4 tablespoons), i.e. half-a-tablespoon per serving, and taste-wise, it really makes a huge difference. Of course some of us had many more than one serving but, hey, you only live once! Ingredients For the cake 400 g Italian plums, pitted (or enough to cover the surface of the pan) 162 g all-purpose flour 55 g whole spelt flour (Beth only uses all-purpose but I like to throw in some whole-grain whenever I have a chance. If I had had white whole wheat, I would have used that instead) 150 g plain non-fat yogurt (I used the Fage brand which I had bought at Trader Joe's because I like the texture. If you use another brand of plain yogurt, make sure to pick one that contains nothing but milk and live cultures) 50 g sugar 56 g vegetable oil (I used extra-light olive oil) 1 egg zest of one lime (Beth uses lemon but we didn't have any and besides, I love the complex and exotic taste of lime zest) pinch of salt 3 g instant yeast (Beth uses 1 tablespoon of active dry yeast) 80 g water For the cream layer 162 g yogurt (Beth uses sour cream. I looked up yogurt as a substitute to sour cream and saw that it should be mixed with some baking soda. Of course I had no baking soda. For lack of anything better, I beat the yogurt with 5 g of corn starch but I don't think it was a valid substitution) 50 g sugar 8 g all-purpose flour 2 g vanilla extract For the butter topping 40 g all-purpose flour 57 g cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces 50 g sugar (Beth also uses cinnamon and mace but I like fruit desserts better without spices, except when it comes to apple pie à la mode!)

Method

1. Mix flours and yeast
2. In a large bowl combine the yogurt, sugar, oil, salt and zest, using a whisk
3. Add the flour progressively until it forms a smooth batter. It will be sticky and stiff
4. Generously butter a 9-inch quiche pan at least 2 inches deep with a removable bottom (if available). With a spatula, scrape the batter into the prepared pan. Spread with lightly floured fingers to fill pan evenly
5. Cover with plastic wrap and let rest in a warm area until slightly puffy, about 30 minutes
6. In a medium bowl, combine the yogurt (adding a good pinch of baking soda, if available), sugar, flour, water and vanilla. Beat until smooth with a whisk. Set aside
7. To prepare the topping: in a medium bowl combine the flour and sugar (as well as spices if using). Cut the butter in until the mixture is the consistency of coarse crumbs
8. Twenty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 400° F/204° C. Pour the yogurt layer evenly over the batter. Gently distribute the plums over it. Sprinkle the crumb mixture to completely cover the fruit
9. Place the pan on the center rack of the oven and bake about 45 minutes, or until top is lightly browned and a cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Let the cake cook in the pan 15 minutes. Remove it to a cooling rack. Cut in wedges and serve warm or cold.

The Plum Yogurt Cake goes to Susan's Wild Yeast for Yeastspotting.

Orange & Plum Miche with Two Preferments

This miche wasn't supposed to be. Always eager for the taste of whole wheat, I had decided to make a "pan bigio" from Carol Field's The Italian Baker, a book I have owned for quite a while and certainly not used enough as it is full of attractive recipes which I have yet to try. Most of them are yeast-based but they can and should be converted to natural starter. Maybe I'll give it a try this summer.
Anyway I had dutifully made the biga (starter dough made from small amounts of flour, water and yeast allowed to ferment for at least 24 hours) two days before and when it had become deliciously and deliriously effervescent, I started to prepare the other ingredients for scaling.
But (why so many buts in life?), just as biga requires commercial yeast (fresh, dry active or instant) , so does the final dough for Pan bigio and, as I was reaching for it, my eyes fell on my liquid starter, forlornly bubbling away in its glass jar. As I hadn't baked with it the day before, I actually needed to use some of it (or throw some out) to make room in the jar for its daily meal.
So I made up my mind on the spot, decided to keep the pan bigio recipe for a day when I wouldn't have enough starter (as if that was likely to happen anytime soon) and to strike for a new (to me) frontier in bread-baking: use two preferments in the same dough (I wasn't about to throw away the biga, as you can imagine).

I still wanted an at least partially whole-wheat bread but now that I was no longer bound by a recipe, I could give free rein to my imagination as to the other ingredients. So I gazed out of the window: looming dark clouds, misty lawn, dripping trees. It felt like fall, or maybe early spring (it was cold in the house with the heat off), and I tried to think of a flavor that would warm us up.
I closed my eyes and must have been visited by the ghost of Christmas past because, all of a sudden, I had a craving for dried plums and oranges, very little of both, just enough to give the bread a different fragrance and make it more festive. I briefly considered alternatives (mango and Brazil nuts?) but in the end, I stuck with the plum-orange flavor, which is a traditional one in French cooking and baking (although not in bread, at least not in the old days) and very pleasant in a quiet sort of way.
Since the two preferments had been made with regular bread flour, I decided to put at least 50% whole wheat flour in the final dough, and as a final treat (I love huge breads), I decided to make a very big loaf, so that I could give some to family and friends. It did come out big (1.8 kg) and fragrant, not sweet at all which is what I wanted. Too bad web-sampling hasn't been invented yet. I'd love to have you taste it and tell me what you think...

Ingredients:
For the biga

• 135 g unbleached all-purpose flour
• 115 g water
• 1/8 tsp instant dry yeast 

For the final dough

• 445 g whole wheat flour
• 420 g unbleached all-purpose flour
• 390 g water
• 250 g biga
• 225 g liquid starter (100% hydration)
• 50 g plump dried plums, chopped
• 18 g salt
• 5 g dried orange peel, soaked for 20 minutes in hot water, drained and finely chopped

Method:
For the biga

1. At least 1 day before but preferably 2, mix yeast and flour in a small bowl and add water
2. Stir to incorporate thoroughly, knead briefly until smooth and leave to ferment for 24 hours
3. After 24 hours, if not using immediately, refrigerate for another day
4. On the day of the baking, bring back to room temperature before using

For the final dough

1. Put the biga and the starter in the bowl of the mixer and mix slowly with the paddle attachment until incorporated
2. Add 250 g water (reserve the rest), mix again and add the flour
3. Mix on low until well incorporated, stop the mixer, cover the bowl and let rest for 20 minutes (autolyse)
4. Add the salt and mix on medium speed (3 on my old Rival Chef Excel) with the dough hook, adding water as needed for at least 6 minutes (depending on the flour you use you may have to use more water than I did in this recipe. I used a Hudson Valley artisanal whole wheat flour which doesn't absorb water readily and I had to adjust for that), until the dough has achieved the right consistency (neither too firm nor too slack, one clue would be to see how well defined the edges are. If the edges are sharpish-looking, you need to add water)
5. Give the dough the windowpane test (wet your hands, pull a piece of dough from the mass and gently turn and stretch it. If you manage to create a "window" in the dough without tearing it, it is ready)
6. Add the fruit and orange peel
7. Mix on low for a minute
8. Take the dough out of the bowl, transfer it to a (lightly) flour-dusted countertop and finish incorporating the plums and orange peel by hand making sure they are evenly distributed in the dough
9. Oil a big bowl or dough bucket and transfer the dough to it. Close the lid tightly
10. The first fermentation should take 1 1/2 to 2 hours
11. After that time, the dough should have at least doubled. Take it out and shape it roughly into a ball. Let it rest covered for 20 minutes
12. Shape it into a tight boule (ball) and put it, seam down, on a semolina-dusted board. Stick the board in a big clear plastic bag. Blow once into the bag before closing it to create a dome and stick the whole thing in the refrigerator for the night (or 8 to 10 hours during the day if more convenient)
13. In the morning, turn on the oven (450 F/232 C) after putting in it a baking stone (if using) with an empty metal pan on the rack under it
14. Take the bread out of the refrigerator and let it rest a while at room temperature while the oven heats up (or a bit longer)
15. Take the bread out of the bag and transfer it to a semolina-dusted parchment paper
16. Stencil and score the loaf as desired
17. Pour a cup of cold water in the metal pan, transfer the bread (still on the parchment paper) to the baking stone and spray some water on the walls of the oven (taking care not to aim towards the oven light) to create even more steam
18. Close the oven door and let bake for 40 minutes
19. After 40 minutes, open the oven to take a look at the bread. It is so big that it will not be done yet but it will probably be already brown enough. If that's the case, remove the parchment paper, lower the oven temperature to 390 F/199 C and bake another 15 minutes
20. Take the bread out and use an instant thermometer (insert on bottom surface) to check its internal temperature. (Mine had been put in the oven while still pretty cold and after 55 minutes, its internal temperature still hadn't reach 200 F/93 C)
    
21. If necessary, let bake another 10 minutes on 335 F/168C) until the bread's internal temperature reaches 204 F/96 C
22. Take the bread out of the oven and let it cool on a rack. It'll take a while but it's well worth the wait...

As always, the loaf has been submitted to Susan, from Wild Yeast, for her weekly Yeastpotting feature. I can't thank Susan enough for her beautiful, instructive and fun blog and for the kindness with which she displays other bakers' work. If you haven't visited Wild Yeast yet, you are in for a BIG treat! Enjoy!