Don't keep your powder dry

I have been experimenting with Sunbeam Suzi lately, and have found the yeast really goes wild if I add it to the tepid water/oil mix while I mix the dry ingredients.

A veteran of the bread campaigns told me I should get the yeast working as hard as possible from the outset.

I can't say I'm disappointed with the results - loaves that rise without fault each time!

Sunbeam Suzi joins the baking clan

Just when I thought you couldn't have a relationship with more than one bread machine at a time, along came Sunbeam Suzi - a Sunbeam Quantum Smart Bake I recently inherited from our neighbour (also Pete) when he sold his townhouse.

Now while I love and respect Kenwood Ken, Sunbeam Suzi is a dream gal to fool around with! Although she came with no instructions - Pete says he only used her a few times, and lost the booklet she came with - I worked it all out in a matters of seconds.

She also comes with a bunch of neat plastic pull-out instructions that tuck neatly into her right side.

I have a mixed seed loaf baking off now, so I'll let you know how she performs in my next blog entry.

Kenwood Ken bakes a storm

I must say Kenwood Ken appears to have been worth the extra bucks!

So far I have cranked a round of great 750gm wholemeal/plain flour loaves laced with seeds, and all have worked well.

I have also used Ken's dough-kneading facility to produce several oven-baked loaves - again with sterling results. I have been using Ken's Menu 1.

So, here goes with the machine-made loaf recipes:

* 290 mls of tepid tap water

* 1 tbspn of olive oil (as usual, I add the water and oil to the pan first)

*400 gms of plain white flour

* 50gms wholemeal flour

* 1 tbspn of linseed/flax seed

* 1 tbspn of buckwheat

* 1 tbspn of milk powder

* 1 tbspn of brown sugar – not my usual raw type

* 1 tspn of improver

* 1 ½ tspns of salt

* 1 ½ tspns of dry yeast

As usual, I mixed the dry things together before adding them to the pan.

The results? Awesome!

Kenwood Ken

If you’ve been wondering why I’ve been so quiet lately, you can blame it on technology – or more specifically, on the technology of modern bread machine mixing tins.

I’m sad to say I’ve had to pension off Breville Bev for no other reason than her mixing paddle spindle seized, and I was unable to fix it – or replace the mixing pan for a reasonable price.

I have to say from the outset that I have been thoroughlly underwhelmed by the quality of some bread machine components. What idiot thought it was fine to mount the kneading/paddle spindle in a nylon bush? It was only ever going to be a question of time before the whole show seized, rendering Bev inoperable.

So once I realized there was nothing for it but to buy another machine, I settled on a slightly more upmarket machine, a Kenwood BM250 – aka Kenwood Ken. (Mind you, Ken has the same basic baking pan flaw . . .)

But, for the time being, Ken’s a doozie! And I am still coming to terms with his differences compared with Bev’s previous simplicity.

I’ve already wacked an oat-n-seed loaf through him, and was pleasantly surprised with the first-time-novice result . . . and my posse has been wondering how we managed to put up with store-bought bread for as long as we did.

Kenwood Ken wasn’t bargain basement (as was Breville Bev). He set me back $169 – twice Bev’s cost – but that was still knocked down from about $220.

I’ll be working Ken into the Heininger routine in coming days, and will report back on appropriate recipes and techniques. So stay tuned for more from the Kitchen Loafer!

‘The object of unparalleled worship’

The History is Bread is a magnificent book developed and penned by Bernard Dupaigne and published by Harry N. Abrams.

I spotted it in a Sydney bookstore several weeks before I could afford to buy it – and even at $A79 (discounted from $A135!) I thought the cover price was steep.

But if, as they say, you get what you pay for, books don’t often come this good, this well written or superbly illustrated – especially if bread floats your boat.

Dupaigne opens his forward with the words: ‘Bread is the symbol of shared food, the very essence of life. It is the fruit of protracted toil and is deeply anchored in our civilization . . . Bread is the object of unparalleled worship and decorum.’

Amen, brother! Couldn’t have put it any better myself.

As you’d expect, Dupaigne spends the first 121 pages sifting through the history of bread, kicking off with a one-page broad brushstroke of Middle Eastern coverage, interestingly making a very early connection between bread and brewing.

He then moves onto the Egyptians and their pharaohs, before heading on to the Greeks, then the Romans, then into the darkening Middle Ages before side-tracking to bread in the French Revolution (as you would, if you’re a French writer), before ending in the modern bakery.

This section also covers major grains, breads without grains, the fortunes of wheat, milling, ovens, nomadic breads and other tasty stuff.

Other major sections of this 256-page tome cover the symbolism of bread, French breads and baking in more detail, breads of the world, and ends with a short selection of recipes.

With 500 illustrations, including some 250 mouth-watering plates, this book is simply too delicious to ever open in your hard-working kitchen!

Other details: the translation (from the original French) is by Antonio and Sylvie Roder. The History of Bread was first published in 1999. The ISBN is 0 8109 3438 8.

Now . . . go for it! You can’t be disappointed!

Loafing – on the Italian job

Now if there’s one thing my gals have always liked – even before they were able to stand erect without nosediving - it’s olives. Kalamatas, green ones, stuffed ones, pitted ones, big ones, little ones. And the bigger the jar the better.

The fact their Mum’s got Italian blood flowing through her veins - not too far from the surface - may have something to do with it (doesn’t explain my predilection to the savoury buggers, though).

So, when I suggested I’d knock out an olive loaf over the weekend, I was almost bowled over in the rush!

I must say for a first effort, she wasn’t a half-bad 750gm loaf!

So here goes . . . You’ll need the following:

* 310 mls of tepid tap water

* 2 tspns of virgin olive oil

* 1 3/4 tpns of salt

* 450 gms of plain flour

* 1 tspn of bread improver

* ¼ cup of grated mozzarella cheese

* 2 tbspns of pitted and sliced kalamata olives

* 3 tspns of pesto paste (not too dry)

* 1 ¼ tspn of dry yeast

I added all the ingredients except the olives immediately to the water and oil in Bev’s baking pan, then set her on the French cycle for a medium crust.

Although tempted, I held off adding the olives until I heard Bev’s add-stuff beeps, eight minutes into the kneading process.

Anyway, cutting to the chase, the end result was delicious. The gals thought it was soft and not-at-all-dry as some Italian breads can tend to be. I put this down to the olive oil, the oil in the pesto and residual oil in the olives.

The crown sagged just a tad, and I put that down to a little too much salt; next time I’ll try just 1 ½ tspns of salt, and allow the saltiness of the kalamatas do the rest.

If you have any meat-etarians in the house, you can add 2 tbspns of finely chopped pepperoni – but again, I’d be thinking of cranking back the salt. Or if yours is a full-on veggie mob, substitute 1 tbspn of finely chopped sundried tomatoes for the sausage.

All in all, not a shabby effort . . . and she tasted even better the following morning for breakfast!

Easter bunnies

With Easter just around the corner, I thought I’d have a lash at my first practice batch of Easter buns. While they should be “crossed”, my mob hates that white stuff and picks it off, so my efforts bear no relevance to any Christian festival.

But what they lack in religious overtones, they more than make up for in taste.

You’ll need the following:

* 350mls of tepid tap water

* 1 egg yolk – I used a 70gm free-range one

* 2 tbspns of olive oil

* 1 tspn of salt

* 2 tbspns of white sugar

* 600 gms of plain flour

* 1 tbspn of ground cinnamon

* 1 tbspn of ground all-spice

* 3 tbspns of milk powder

* 1 tspn of improver

* 1 ½ cups of mixed sultanas and orange rind (with the far majority being "tarnies")

* 2 ¼ tspns of dry yeast

As always, I popped the water and oil in the pan first. I then lightly beat the egg and added it.

I mixed all dry ingredients – including the tarnies and yeast – and added these to the pan.

I set Bev on her “dough” cycle, and settled back to do the rest of the prep work – cutting two pieces of oven-bake paper to fit the baking trays I used.

Once the dough-making cycle was finished, I turned the mass out on a lightly floured board and divided it into 12 roughly equal amounts, which I then rolled into balls and popped onto the trays. I covered these with a dry tea towel and allowed them to continue proofing on the warm kitchen bench for about 45 minutes . . . by which time, they’d doubled again in size.

I pre-heated the oven to 190 degrees C and baked both trays for 20 minutes.

The result? Well, let’s just say we won’t be buying any commercial bunnies this year! These samples were rich, moist, sweet and seemingly loaded with fruit.

For a trial run, they were faultless in everything but shape. I’ll perfect this next round.

PS: Only one drama . . . the following morning they seemed a tad dry. Not sure why, either. However, a short burst (about 20 seconds) in the microwave seemed to bring them back to their previous evening’s life. None of the taste, however, was lost.