Teenage Bread

But the bread… Sigh. It was nasty, soft, gummy stuff that stuck to the roof of my mouth without benefit of peanut butter. No, not that loaf in the picture, another, sadder loaf. It packed itself into every nook and cranny of my mouth and teeth resisting all efforts with toothpick and floss to remove the sodden lumps.

It never ceases to amaze me how much bad bread is being perpetrated. This particular example came from a deli (obviously a misnomer) where I’d ordered a pastrami on rye. The pastrami was good enough, the swiss cheese bland but acceptable, the lettuce fresh, and the mustard was a decent pungent brown.

But the bread… No hint of rye flavor. No sign of the yeast that gave up its life to make this sodden loaf. It was a sullen teenager in baggy pants but without even the gumption to get a single ear pierced — a passive-aggressive slice of failed promise and timidity.

And although that despicable sin against generations of bakers is the nadir of a noble craft, it is still only the lowest point on a spectrum. Even those attempting to produce something better often fail. For instance, I recently bought a loaf of whole-wheat bread commercially produced locally that was no better, albeit much more handsome, than Pepperidge Farm. Instead of being gummy, it was too dry, and while it had the honest flavor of wheat and yeast the producers failed to highlight that nutty sweetness that characterizes the best whole-wheat loaves.

I’ve come to the conclusion that great bread simply cannot be produced in quantities greater than tens of loaves. However good the science, you simply can’t turn the process over to machines and hope for the best because you’ll never get the best, only the good-enough.

Which is not to say that I always turn out the best bread when I bake. But even my failures are usually as good as the better commercial stuff, and every now and then I come close to great. The recipe below fell somewhere between good and great. As I hoped, the maple syrup enhanced that “nutty sweetness” I mentioned above but without being overwhelmingly sweet. The texture was moist and chewy but still light and left no souvenirs in my mouth. It kept fairly well — still good for toast four days later.

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Maple Whole-wheat Bread
makes 1 9×5 inch loaf

3/4 c warm water
1 pkg active dry yeast
1/2 c warm milk
1/4 c maple syrup (grade B if you can get it)
2 tbsps vegetable oil
1 tsp salt
2 1/2 c all-purpose flour
2 c whole wheat flour

Dissolve the yeast in the warm water in a large bowl dissolved and let stand until foamy. Mix in the warm milk, maple syrup, oil, and salt. Stir in 1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour. Stir in whole-wheat flour and mix well. Add the remaining all-purpose flour, 1/4 cup at a time, until the dough is soft and workable (there may be some flour left over).

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 6 to 8 minutes. Form into a ball tucking edges underneath. Spray the inside of a large bowl with cooking spray; place dough, seam-side down, in bowl; spritz top with cooking spray; and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.

Heat oven to 375F.

Lightly grease a 9×5 inch loaf pan. Punch the dough down and turn onto a lightly floured surface. Knead lightly then form dough into a loaf and place in the pan. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 45 minutes.

Bake for 35 minutes or until top is golden brown and the bottom of the loaf sounds hollow when tapped. Remove loaf from the pan and cool on a wire rack.

Technorati: Food | recipe | bread | wholewheat | maple syrup

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