Reflections and resolutions

As of a few days after Christmas, it’s now ten years that I’ve been gluten-free. That’s well over a third of my life! I had fully intended to mark the occasion with not one, but two new recipes that were not only seasonable and festive, but also of the traditionally-French persuasion that has been an inspiration for my baking since the beginning. But (as life has tended to do these last weeks-months-years), life got in the way of being able to fine-tune these recipes in a timely manner (really, there are only so many failed bûches de noël one can stand to make before deciding that whatever comes out of the oven this time will be the holiday dessert, no matter how it looks!) - and so, by the time Christmas came and went (so quickly!) both of these recipes were still in something of a rough-draft stage: pretty enough to photograph, plenty good enough to eat, but not quite polished enough to post. 

Bûche de noël

Buckwheat pain d'épices

Funnily, that says a lot about how far we - the gluten-free community - have come in these ten years: back then, anything reasonably edible and presentable was cause for celebration and sharing the recipe would be a matter of course. Now, we have the luxury (perhaps even a little bit of a duty?) of being perfectionistic, because we’ve collectively proven that things made of buckwheat and beans and chestnut and millet and potato and rice and sorghum can and should be every bit as good and as real as those made from wheat and rye. And so I give you pictures for now, because while these things were good, I know they can be better. It didn’t happen in time for Christmas, but it will happen. The bar for victory is higher, and that’s a good thing. 

So, this New Year’s Day, I propose a resolution for the celiac/GF community: going forward, let’s remove phrases like “too good to be gluten-free” from our vocabulary. Clearly, if we’re saying that about something, it’s good and it is gluten-free. There was a time when that may have been surprising. Now, though, we have more than enough examples of beautiful and delicious breads, cookies, pastry, and cakes to show that this phrase has lost its relevance. Is it harder, does it take longer to fine-tune a recipe? Maybe. Is there still a lot of bad GF food out there? Yes, of course. Will baking disasters and terrible recipe attempts still happen? Oh yeah. But it’s easy for us to forget, with the larger learning curve we face with our flours, that those disasters and disappointments happen to wheat-bakers, too. And yet, still we all seem to keep being surprised when something is good even now that "too good" seems to have become more of the norm than the exception. So, GF bakers and GF eaters: this year, let’s resolve to stop perpetuating the stereotype. Here’s to a year of baking and eating and sharing things that are exactly good enough to be gluten-free, and getting even better all the time. 

Good bread. Gluten free.

{Ratio Rally} Ratios by the slice

The cool weather arrived a few days ago as abruptly as the turn of a calendar page. Normally I'd welcome the smell of crisp morning air, watching the leaves turn gorgeous shades of orange, but that day it just felt too soon. Too fleeting. Almost as if I'd been expecting late summer to somehow stretch on indefinitely - as though the hypnotic ebb-and-flow of cicada song and rasping crickets had taken the place of clocks and calendars, placing time on hiatus like one long, lazy afternoon suspended in amber. I found myself daydreaming about that lingering summer, my mind drifting to romanticized images of some idyllic place; closer, probably, to one of Van Gogh's Provençal landscapes than to any actual place I could visit. Images of the late-afternoon sun slanting across golden fields and hilly vineyards and row upon row of lavender...

Yes, I suppose I do daydream quite a bit. My cooking and baking are often expressions of those daydreams - whereas some people may flip through travel books for a brief escape, or look at old photographs of somewhere they're longing to revisit, I'm just as likely to head to the kitchen, inspired by the cuisine of whatever new place has captured my imagination.

Which finally brings me to this month's Ratio Rally. Karen of Cooking Gluten-Free chose pizza dough for this month's theme. I used my dough to make pissaladière, the Provençal equivalent to pizza - partly because of the daydreaming as I explained, but partly just because it's delicious! Well, I suppose that's subjective. I think anchovies are delicious. If you are not fond of anchovies, you can of course choose different toppings - the dough itself is actually free of all major allergens, making it vegan as well. Pizza is an endlessly adaptable recipe, as you can see from everyone's creations in the roundup.

It is also, I think, one of the most difficult things to make gluten-free. It has to be chewy but not crusty. It has to hold up under sauce and toppings without getting soggy or falling apart, but it still needs to be soft, not stiff or dry. And (according to my boyfriend, who grew up eating New York pizza) you must be able to fold a slice without it breaking.

I've finally developed a dough that does all those things.

While the reference ratio in Ruhlman's cookbook, 5 parts flour:3 parts water, did produce a workable dough, the resulting bread was always a bit too stiff no matter what flour blend I used. I was frustrated that I couldn't come up with a flour blend that worked like wheat flour, until a thought occurred to me: what if a 5:3 ratio would not give me the sort of crust I was aiming for, even with wheat flour? What if the bread in that cookbook is not like the bread I was used to? I'd forgotten that the doughs for many traditional and artisan-style yeast breads use a higher hydration than 5:3, where the water amounts to 60% of the flour weight; ciabatta dough, for instance, is usually around 85% hydration. With that in mind I increased the water to a 5:4 ratio and the result was amazing. This dough, at 80% hydration, gives a crust which is pleasantly chewy, will hold up under toppings, and yes, you can even fold it - and the taste is just as excellent as the texture.

Real pizza crust. Without gluten.

Note: This is meant to be baked directly on a baking stone, rather than on parchment. If you don't have a baking stone, or if you don't feel comfortable transferring dough from a pizza peel, shape dough on parchment instead of a pizza peel when instructed.


Pissaladière
This recipe, using a total of 250g flour, makes enough dough for a small pizza. It can easily be doubled.

Sponge:

65g brown rice flour

25g oat flour

15g chickpea flour

10g millet flour

10g potato flour (not starch)

1tsp yeast

150mL warm water

Combine flours and yeast in a large bowl, stir in water, and allow to ferment for 12-16 hours.

Dough:

75g tapioca starch

50g potato starch

1T psyllium husks

3/8 tsp Pomona's citrus pectin (see note on my Ingredients page)

2 1/2 tsp raw sugar

5/8 tsp sea salt

1tsp yeast

All of the sponge

50mL warm water

2 tsp grapeseed oil or other high-heat oil

3/4 tsp double-acting baking powder (set aside)

Method: In a small bowl, combine starches, psyllium, pectin, salt, & sugar. Stir the extra teaspoon of yeast into the sponge. Stir about half of the starch mixture into the sponge, add the warm water, then add the rest of the starch mixture, "kneading" it with a soft spatula. After the dough has come together, knead in the oil by hand. The dough will seem very soft and slack - this is normal. Shape into a ball, cover the bowl, and set aside in a warm place for about an hour.

The dough will be very soft, but not sticky.

Meanwhile, prepare the topping:

1 small yellow onion, sliced very thinly (a mandoline is helpful here)

1 clove of garlic, minced

2-ounce tin anchovies in oil

8-10 olives, cut into halves or quarters (Not the watery black kind from a tin! Use Mediterranean-style olives. I used Castelvetrano Italian olives, which have a rich, almost buttery taste.)

1 bay leaf

1-2T olive oil

Heat the oil in a heavy pan. Add the onions and bay leaf; when the onions have softened slightly, add the garlic and turn heat to low. Let cook for 30 minutes or so over low heat, stirring occasionally - do not let them brown, just get them nice and soft and melty. (Yes, I know onions don't technically melt. But that's really the best way to describe it.)

See? Melty.

Assembling the pissaladière:

Pre-heat your oven, with a baking stone on the middle rack, to 395ºF/200ºC. Knead the dough gently a few times in the bowl and tip it out onto a work surface. Pat it flat, sprinkle the baking powder over the surface, and roll it up as demonstrated here. This ensures even distribution of the baking powder and creates a better texture. Now generously coat a pizza peel or baking sheet with white rice flour, place the dough seam-side down on it, and shape it into a rectangle - pat and stretch the dough until it is almost as thin as pizza dough. Slightly curl up the sides to create an edge crust. (Your crust will be smoother than in the picture if you do this now, rather than forgetting to do it until after you arrange the toppings as I did!) Now, gently attempt to slide the dough around on the pizza peel, to make sure it will slide off easily. If it sticks, gently lift up one corner at a time and push more rice flour underneath.

Scatter the onion-garlic mixture over the surface of the dough. Arrange the anchovies and olive pieces in a decorative pattern on top. If desired, brush the edges with a little olive oil and honey (optional). Let the dough rise for 20 minutes or so, then gently slide it onto the baking stone using your pizza peel or baking sheet (you will have to coax it towards the end of the pizza peel, but it really will slide off smoothly, I promise). Bake for about 30 minutes. It is delicious hot from the oven or after it has cooled.

Check out all of this month's Ratio Rally creations! 

Flour, eggs, butter: The ratio makes the recipe

Crisp buttery puffs, with a dusting of sugar

I was so excited when I found out about the Gluten-Free Ratio Rally. As a chemistry major, applying ratios comes naturally; also, I'm always eager to bring science into the kitchen (because I'm a geek like that). Wait, don't leave! This science isn't complicated. In fact, using ratios actually makes baking easier.

You see, when you have a solid ratio for a gluten-free recipe, you don't have to guess when the recipe calls for a flour you don't have/can't find/can't eat - simply substitute an equal weight of a comparable flour, and it will almost always work. (You must do this by weight; that is the only way to ensure you are keeping the same ratio.) There will of course be some differences when you are converting a "normal" recipe to gluten-free - after all, you then have a dough that depends on carbohydrates, rather than gluten proteins, for its properties. In most recipes, the structure is bound by an added carbohydrate, such as xanthan gum, flax meal, or psyllium. Sometimes, though, the flour itself already contains what you need. 

That's when your choice of flour can be vital for some recipes, because not all starch is the same. Pâte à choux is one of those recipes. Starch actually is made of two types of molecules: amylose, which is linear, and amylopectin, which is branched. Amylopectin is what you need for good pâte à choux. The starch in sweet rice (also called sticky rice) is all amylopectin. That's why it's sticky.

Can you see why the one on the right gives 
choux paste more structure? (via ncsu.edu)

Pâte à choux can be converted to gluten-free especially well because even when it's made with wheat flour it is dependent on starch, not gluten, for its structure. The process is unusual - you actually cook the flour in water and fat before forming the dough, which lets the starch strands, which are normally packed together, to swell and form a network. 

OK, you're probably wondering why I'm telling you all this about the science of choux paste and how great it is to bake using ratios, rather than just telling you how to make cream puffs.

Well, I wanted to make it clear that it doesn't have to be difficult before I told you these little cream puffs very nearly kicked my butt. Seriously, I almost gave up. I went through over a dozen eggs and nearly a pound of butter before I finally got the puffs you see in the picture (and those still aren't perfect). That was the fifth batch. But I'm not trying to scare you away. Honest.

See, the other great thing about ratios is that more than one ratio can get you to the same basic result - take a look at last month's rally to see how many different ratios can turn into scones! So, below I've included the link to everyone else's choux posts - that's 18 others to choose from. And there are all sorts of things you can make with choux paste besides cream puffs and éclairs; you can use the same base recipe (er, I mean ratio) to make crisp cheese breads called gougères, or even to make a certain kind of gnocchi. So find something that looks good to you. 

Larger balls of dough make soft, fluffy puffs.

In the spirit of purely exploring the ratio, I chose to make the most basic form of choux pastry, called chouquettes. They are small, simple unfilled pastries, often eaten as a mid-afternoon treat. My ratio of eggs:flour:water:fat was 4:3:3:2, which is rather different from any reference ratios, but it's what ended up working best to get something that would "puff" properly. 

OK, here's what to do. It involves math, but it's not hard, I promise: start by weighing your eggs - this is the variable which determines how much of the other ingredients to use. I used three eggs,  which weighed a total of 160g. Since my ratio is 4:3:3:2, dividing that by 4 gave me an amount of 1 part=40g. So, since 40 x 3 = 120, I needed 120g of flour and 120mL of water (1mL of water equals 1g) and since 40 x 2 = 80, I needed 80g of butter.

160:120:120:80 is the same as 4:3:3:2. See? I told you it wasn't hard. If your eggs are a different weight, simply go through the same process with your number.

For flour, I used 60% sweet rice flour (amylopectin, remember?), 20% tapioca flour, and 20% millet flour. (For 120g, that means 72g sweet rice, 24g tapioca, and 24 g millet.) I also added 1/4 tsp of Pomona's citrus pectin to the flour, for good measure.

Method {Note: have a look at the step-by-step photos at Simply Gluten-Free to see what each stage should look like.}

1) Your eggs need to be at room temperature - take them out of the refrigerator at least 1hr before you start baking. 

2) Preheat oven to 220ºC/425ºF and set aside a large baking sheet lined with parchment. Then crack the eggs into a small bowl and weigh them, and go through the procedure above to figure out how much flour, water, and butter you'll need. Weigh the flour into a large bowl. Weigh the butter and water in a medium-sized saucepan, and add 1 T(15g) of sugar and 1/2 tsp sea salt to the water. 

3) Heat the butter-water mixture until it is boiling steadily. Now dump in the flour all at once, turn down the heat to medium-low (so it doesn't burn to the pan) and stir forcefully and continuously with a stiff spatula for a minimum of two minutes. This is what will provide the dough's structure; you will see the dough getting stringy and it will become very thick. 

4) When it has come together in a smooth, firm ball, dump it back into your large bowl (or the bowl of a mixer, if you have one). If you are lucky enough to have a mixer, just start stirring with the paddle attachment; for the rest of us, continue firmly stirring with the spatula - really stretch out those starch strands, and try to re-incorporate any butter that may have separated - but don't let it cool down. It should still be hot, but make sure you can touch it before going any further.

5) When you can touch it - but it is still quite hot - add one egg and immediately stir to incorporate it completely. You can use an electric beater for this, or do it by hand if you have that kind of endurance. Now, if you've used an electric beater, you'll notice that the dough looks kind of lumpy or curdled. You need to stir it with the spatula to smooth out those lumps - otherwise you will have globs of starch suspended in egg, and that's great if you're making tapioca pudding, but not if you want choux paste. Stir firmly - really churn it - until the dough is smooth. Repeat this process with the other two eggs.

6) Now churn firmly by hand for a few more minutes, stirring it in large circles to keep stretching the dough. When it's a smooth paste, it's ready! It works best if you form the puffs from a piping bag, rather than just putting spoonfuls on the baking sheet. Don't be intimidated by piping - you're not decorating a fancy cake here; if you can squeeze a tube of toothpaste, you can pipe choux paste. If you want crisp, dry puffs, make them slightly bigger than a large egg yolk; for softer, fluffier puffs, make them almost twice that size. Sprinkle sugar or icing sugar on them if desired. Bake at 220ºC/425ºF for the first 10mins, then turn it down to 190ºC/375ºF and bake for another 12-15mins. (For crisper puffs, use the tip of a knife to poke a small hole in the bottom of each one after taking them out of the oven - this allows trapped steam to escape.)

As an aside - if you go through all of this and they don't look like cream puffs, it's OK. They're still yummy. And if your batter is too runny and won't hold its shape, you can bake them in muffin papers or even use the batter for pancakes!

I still have a lot to learn about choux paste, but five batches was more than enough for now - I still have to make a birthday cake. Although maybe with all these puffs, I should have planned for a croquembouche!  ;)

This month's Rally was hosted by Erin of The Sensitive Epicure. Here are the links to everyone's creations - go have a look!

Amie of The Healthy Apple | Pate Choux with Creamy Macadamia Icing
Britt of GF in the City |    Pâte à Choux
Caleigh of Gluten Free[k] | Savoury Paris-Brest
Caneel of Mama Me Gluten Free | Key Lime Cream Puffs
Charissa of Zest Bakery | Choux Shine: Koshi-an Filled Cream Puffs
Claire of Gluten Freedom |  Chocolate Eclairs
Erin of the Sensitive Epicure | Gougères filled with Herbed Goat Cheese Mousse

Gretchen of kumquat | Cheddar Gougères with Dates and Pine Nuts | A Danish Puff
Irvin of Eat The Love |  White Cheddar Fennel Gougères stuffed with Porcini & Shallot Goat Cheese
Jenn of Jenn Cuisine | Gruyère & Herbed Gougères
Lisa of Gluten Free Canteen | Cracked Pepper & Cheese Gougères
Meredith of Gluten Free Betty | Gluten Free Churros
Mary Fran of Frannycakes | Marillenknodel with ginger and cardamom sugar & chai cream puffs
Meaghan of The Wicked Good Vegan | Cardamom and Rose Water Cream Puffs (with Rad Whip!)   
Pete & Kelli of No Gluten, No Problem | Almond Choux Florentines
Rachel of The Crispy Cook | Cream Puffs Filled with Coffee Cream
Robyn of Chocswirl | Gruyere & Parmesan Gougeres with Sage & Thyme   
Sea of Book of Yum | Rose Vanilla Cream Puffs and Vanilla Eclairs
Silvana of Silvana's Kitchen | Gluten-Free Spinach Gnocchi Parm
T.R.of No One Likes Crumbley Cookies | Beignets
Tara of A Baking Life | Parmesan & Black Pepper Gougères | Frangipane Puffs

Yeast Bread Techniques, Lesson 2: Baguette aux Céréales - A Theme and Variations

Somewhere in central Paris, perhaps even at this moment, people are lining up outside a certain boulangerie to buy freshly-baked bread. (This applies to many, many bakeries, actually - but there is one in particular that I am thinking of.) Supposedly one can find the best bread by looking for the boulangeries with the longest queues, which seems logical enough; it also very well may be why I happened to end up at this one. You see, generally fresh bread comes out of the oven twice a day, and that is when people start gathering around the bakery doors: first in the morning, and then again in late afternoon before supper. This was mid-day, though, and the small bakery was packed as tightly as a New York subway train at rush hour (though it of course was far more calm and quiet, and smelled much better). I, being rather shorter than everyone clustering near the front counter, didn't get a terribly long look at the array of baked goods. One bread in particular did catch my eye, though - in contrast to the ubiquitous floury, golden baguettes, there were a few long loaves labelled "baguette aux céréales," which were wonderfully brown and flecked with all sorts of seeds and grains. Yum. 

With its slightly denser crumb and rich whole-grain flavour, this less-known traditional French bread can be made gluten-free with very satisfying and delicious results! Yet while "gluten-free" seems fairly well-understood in France, gluten-free bread is apparently uncommon. That's unfortunate, because I think this certainly measures up to its gluteny counterpart - go ahead, give it a try! This makes a small loaf; if you want to double the recipe I recommend forming two small loaves rather than one large one.

The recipe I've created is actually a variation on my "Whole Wheatless" bread in the first yeast baking lesson. If you haven't read that lesson, please do that first - it explains some of the techniques you will need to make this bread. If you have made that recipe, you will notice that this looks very similar;  some of the proportions are different, though, so read carefully. And without further ado:

Baguette aux Céréales

Step 1: The night before you will bake, combine in a mixing bowl:

1/4 c each brown rice flour, buckwheat flour, & chickpea flour

2 T teff grains (not teff flour)

1 tsp yeast

140 mL water

In a separate small bowl or cup, measure: 

2 T millet grains 

and add just enough water to cover. Let the flour mixture (called the poolish) and the millet soak for 12-16 hours. (The millet grains need to absorb water, but you want to keep them separate from the yeast for now.)

Step 2: Combine in a bowl and blend well:

1 1/4 c tapioca starch

2 T sweet rice flour

1 T + 1/2 tsp psyllium

1/4 tsp Pomona's pure citrus pectin (see note on my Ingredients page)

3/4 tsp sea salt

2 tsp sugar

1 1/2 tsp yeast

Combine in a small dish:

1 T certified GF rolled oats, such as Bob's Red Mill (set aside additional 2 tsp for crust)

1 tsp flaxseed (set aside additional 1 tsp for crust)

2 tsp sunflower seeds (set aside additional 1 tsp for crust)

1/2 tsp poppyseeds (set aside additional 1 tsp for crust)

You will also need:

Water (up to 80 mL)

2 tsp grapeseed oil or other light oil (plus a little more for brushing crust)

2-3 tsp buckwheat honey or other dark honey (plus a little more for brushing crust)

3/4 tsp double-acting baking powder

Parchment paper, a baguette pan or baking stone, another oven-safe pan or baking dish, & a few ice cubes (those last two items are not absolutely essential, but very helpful. It will make sense in a minute, trust me!)

Step 3: Work the flour mixture from Step 2 into the poolish from Step 1, first with a soft spatula and then knead by hand. You will need up to 80 mL extra water, but add it gradually as you go - remember, you can always add a little more water if you need to, but you can't take water out if you add too much!

Do not be alarmed if the poolish looks like dijon mustard!

Once all the flour is incorporated, knead in the seed/oat mixture from Step 2 and the soaked millet from Step 1, then knead in the 2 tsp grapeseed oil. Cover the bowl and set it in a warm place to allow the dough to double, probably about 2 hours.

The dough will be smooth and somewhat stretchy.

Step 4: Once the dough has risen to approximately double, knead in the honey (3 tsp will make the bread just slightly sweet). Now take a look at the dough:

See how the dough is a little crumbly and stiff, sort of like
cookie dough? That means it needs a tiny bit more water.
Add water 1-2 teaspoons at a time, kneading it in well.

After working in a couple of extra teaspoons of water,
the dough is smooth and stretchy again.

Learn to recognise the difference between the smooth dough and the slightly dry dough. Small differences like this can have a big impact on your bread! Now press the dough into a flat rectangle on a piece of parchment, sprinkle with the baking powder, and roll up as demonstrated in the previous lesson. Brush with honey & oil and sprinkle on the extra seeds.

A lot of the seed mixture will end up scattered around,
rather than on, the bread. That's ok...

Just gently press the seeds on top to make sure they stick,
and roll the loaf so more seeds stick to the sides.

Now set the bread in the baguette pan, with the parchment still underneath it. (Trim away any extra parchment.) Use a wet knife to cut a single slit down the length of the loaf. Cover the loaf with plastic wrap and let rise for at least an hour (in the meantime, preheat the oven to 220ºC/425ºF).

Keep the knife wet for a clean cut.

When the loaf has risen, place a few ice cubes in a small baking dish and place this on the bottom rack of the oven. Let the oven get nice and steamy for 10 minutes before putting the bread in the oven. (The steam helps form a nice crisp crust!)

Put the bread on the middle rack of the oven and immediately turn down the temperature to 205ºC/400ºF. Bake for at least an hour, until the loaf is nicely browned. Let cool for about 3 hours before cutting. 

Fresh from the oven!

Julia Child's Daube de Boeuf (On a Student's Budget)

 It's not often that I'm compelled to post a recipe that's non-baking-related. Partly because this is primarily a baking blog, and partly because unlike baking, when I'm cooking, I don't measure or write things down.

Some people say that's how to be a "real" cook: do everything by taste, smell, appearance. I don't know what I think about that. I mean, where would we be without recipes? I'm not just talking about cookbooks. My mother keeps a small wooden notecard box on top of the kitchen shelf, filled with recipes jotted on tattered slips of paper and clipped from newspapers decades ago. I would imagine many of you have something similar.

And then there are the "recipes" that are really more like an outline. A set of ingredients, in assorted subjective proportions, yet still recognisable as, for instance, chili - despite whatever variations upon the theme may occur. You can make it hot or mild, with or without beans, with beef, with turkey; you have dozens of combinations of spices to choose from, but as long as a certain framework is there, it's unmistakably recognisable as chili.                                    

Despite the resilience of these food frameworks, we still have recipes documenting countless permutations of a given dish. This needs no reason beyond the fact that someone liked it that exact way. But I don't need to tell you that, I suppose.

I've given this recipe much more of a grandiose introduction than I'd intended - especially considering that it is such unpretentious food. There is nothing out-of-the-ordinary about it. The changes I made have, if anything, made it even more modest than the one Julia Child described as a simple country dish. This mostly entailed trimming the expense of ingredients by decreasing the quantity of meat and using canned rather than fresh tomatoes, though I also took a few shortcuts for simplicity's sake. For instance, the original recipe calls for beef stock - I substituted water and it turned out just fine. So, without further ado:

Daube de Boeuf

Adapted from Mastering the Art of French Cooking


1 pound/455 grams pastured, grass-fed beef, cut into cubes - look for lean cut for stew
1 can diced tomatoes
2 large carrots, sliced thinly
1/2 large onion and/or shallots, sliced
1 1/4 cups white and/or brown mushrooms, sliced
2 or more slices bacon (I used just 2, from Applegate Farms)
1 cup/235 mL red wine
approx. 1/4 cup/30 g gluten-free flour - I used white rice flour & potato starch
1-2 T olive oil

Black pepper
Thyme
Bay leaves

Method:
Begin by cutting the bacon into pieces about 2 inches/5 cm in length. Bring a small pan of water to a simmer, and put the bacon in it for about 10 minutes. (According to Julia Child, this step is because American bacon is so smoky compared to French, and if you skip this step the whole daube will taste strongly of bacon.) After simmering, dry the bacon with paper towels.

The original recipe recommends
boiled potatoes, risotto,
or noodles to accompany.

- Preheat oven to 163 C/ 325 F.

Meanwhile, dry the pieces of beef with paper towels, then roll them in the flour until evenly coated. Heat the oil in an enamelled Dutch oven, and brown the beef (if it sticks, splash in a little wine). Once this is done, remove the beef or push it off to one side so you can make a layer of vegetables on the bottom. Distribute the beef evenly back over it. Add another layer of vegetables, then tomatoes - continue this pattern until all the vegetables are in.

Distribute the bacon and herbs over top of it, then pour over wine, juice from tomatoes, and enough water to nearly (but not quite) cover the vegetables.

Cover with lid, place in oven, allow to cook for about 3 hours.

Serve with boiled potatoes or crusty bread.

Now, "Bon appetit!"

Some Bread for the Table

Can you believe this is gluten-free? 


Look at the way the surface stretches apart, revealing the soft, porous bread beneath. The crust, dusted with extra flour to really bring out the artisan-loaf appearance, is crisp but not hard. The interior is tender and springy. The flavour itself is understated - at first it may seem even a little bland - but this just makes it perfect to be complemented by some rich farm butter. 


This is another bread using the cold oven technique. Thanks to the relatively large amount of yeast, the bread slowly rises as the oven heats. This results in an evenly-baked loaf - it doesn't brown too quickly or leave the inside underdone. There is another part to the method, though, that is unusual for gluten-free bread: it has two risings. This is not for the sake of kneading (as is the case with wheat doughs); rather, it helps the flavour and texture of the bread whilst giving the yeast time to multiply.


As with most wheat-based artisan breads, this bread is best when very fresh. That is no problem though - simply gather a few friends around your table and provide some butter, herbed olive oil, or cheese...this loaf will disappear very quickly! It would also be very good shaped into smaller rolls, which may help it last longer as well.


"Pain de Ménage" (Homemade Bread)


Dry ingredients:


150 g potato starch
35 g white rice flour
25 g garbanzo-fava flour
25 g Expandex modified tapioca starch
15 g buckwheat flour
10 g sweet rice flour


1 tsp each of xanthan and guar gum
1/2 tsp pectin (used for making jam; can be found with canning supplies)
1 tsp sugar
3/4 tsp sea salt
1 tsp Ener-G egg replacer (helps with binding and leavening)


Wet ingredients:


2 eggs, beaten
100 mL warm water: add 1 tsp sugar and 1/2 T yeast
30 mL oil (I used canola)


Method:


Blend all the dry ingredients together with a whisk in a mixing bowl. Dissolve the yeast and sugar in the warm water and let it foam for a few minutes. Next add the eggs, yeast mixture, and lastly the oil to the flour mixture, and "knead" with a soft spatula until dough is smooth. If the dough seems too stiff, sprinkle in a little more warm water until it is springy. Now cover the bowl with clingfilm and allow the dough to rise for 30 minutes. This allows the yeast to multiply and develop the flavour of the bread - two things GF bread generally misses out on by having only one rising. (If you want an even more developed yeast flavour, you could try adding an additional rising.) At the end of this time period, squash the dough down and tip it out onto a baking stone covered with a piece of lightly oiled, lightly floured baking parchment. Gently roll the ball of dough in the flour (I used tapioca and potato starch) so it has a visible dusting of flour. Work in some more starch if the dough seems too loose and sticky. Stretch the surface so it is smooth, and tuck any rough edges underneath the loaf. Shape it into an oval, brush it with oil, and dust with a little more flour. Now cut the slits in the top using an oiled knife.


Place the loaf in a cold oven and turn it immediately to 204° C/ 400° F. Bake for 45 - 50 minutes, until the crust is nicely browned and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped. Cool on a rack.

Yes.

I made the fougasse work this time. And just in time. This weekend is the "Go GF Challenge" - an invitation to non-gluten-intolerant people to try living gluten-free for a weekend, as part of Celiac Awareness Month. And my Love has agreed to take on this feat. (And considering what an avid bread-eater he is, yes, it is a feat.) So I wanted to make something good. Specifically, I wanted to make bread that is good.

And it is.

Is it perfect? Well, no.
Is it a little dry? Yes, but not terribly so.
Will I keep playing with it, and post a revision at some point? Yes, quite probably.

Which brings me to an interesting point, one I've been considering lately.

In trying to replicate traditional breads - a standard that has been set by stretchy, gluten-y dough - I think the true potential of some of my gluten-free baking is being compromised.

Gluten-free dough is wet. Almost always. It is not the sort of thing that holds a shape well. You can turn out a perfectly good, soft loaf of bread, but to get there, you probably had to spread batter into a pan. Wheat bread shapes easily. To replicate that shape with a GF dough (and even to make a dough, not a batter) I've found the finished product often lacks moisture. I'm sacrificing texture to carry on the tradition of appearance.

Alternatively, sometimes I compromise appearance to get a more flavourful flour blend. Sometimes I give up on whatever concept I had in mind, and instead focus on creating something unique. In fact, some of my best results have come from not trying to make any specific thing, like my Honey Sandwich Bread. It will definitely be very good in its own right, but the flavour and appearance won't necessarily resemble any particular type of wheat bread. And in many cases, that's fine.

However, I've written before about my thoughts on traditions. Food traditions. Bread traditions.

This is my dough just before I put it in the oven. It looks, I imagine, much like fougasse in Provence has looked for generations.

It's said that the slits are meant to resemble an ear of wheat, but the design arose more from practicality than pure symbolism: this originally was what bakers would make from leftover dough as their ovens cooled at the end of the day. The slits ensured that even as the oven temperature dropped, the bread would cook all the way through. Eventually it became popular in its own right, and is now a recognisably traditional French loaf.

                      

                                                                                                           Here it is freshly baked. Just as it should look.

But I know it could still taste better in some ways. How do I choose, though, between the way the bread of my heritage looks, and how the bread from my memory tastes? I don't think that would be fair, really. To me, the idea of bread - and what it means within a culture - is nearly as important to enjoyment as the taste.

Part of me knows that I am now a part of a different culture - the one of gluten-intolerant people coming together to create (and, of course, share) good food. And the internet is such a wonderful tool for uniting this relatively new community. Yet other parts of me still feel the pull of connection to something older, as if I'm carrying on a story that's been told for generations. Which do I bring to my table? I don't think it's a choice I could make. And honestly, I don't think I have to choose; I believe I can find a balance.

So I keep baking until I find that balance. It will just take time, patience, and a lot of loaves. Many may not be perfect, but they are certainly still good. Good enough to call my own.

So in the meantime...have some bread. Enjoy.

Fougasse with Herbes de Provence

100 g potato starch
50 g tapioca starch
25 g buckwheat flour
20 g sorghum flour
20 g Expandex modified tapioca flour
15 g brown rice flour
10 g chestnut flour
5 g soy flour

3/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pectin
1/2 tsp guar gum
1/2 tsp xanthan gum
2 tsp Herbes de Provence

100 mL (about 6 T) warm water
1 - 1 1/2 tsp honey
1/2 T yeast

Mix the flours, salt, pectin, herbs, and gums in a medium bowl. In a large bowl, beat the egg and oil together. Add the honey and yeast to the warm water, and let it foam for a few minutes. Meanwhile, work about half the flour into the egg-oil mixture. Next add the yeast-water, followed by the rest of the flour. If the dough is too sticky, work in an additional tablespoon or two of tapioca flour.

Place a sheet of parchment paper on a baking stone and set the dough on it. Lightly press out the dough with your hands, stretching it lightly outward as you press, and shaping it into an oval. Make 6-10 diagonal slits with a wet knife, and stretch the slits apart with wet fingers. Make the slits large enough that they will not close as the bread rises (see the picture of the unbaked loaf). Brush all exposed surfaces with olive oil. Set the baking stone in a cold oven and turn it immediately to 210 C/400 F. Bake until the loaf sounds hollow when tapped, about 30 minutes. Allow the bread to cool completely before eating.

Have Your Crêpes and Eat Them, Too: Two Recipes

It was a Monday holiday, and the morning after Valentine’s day at that, so I can be forgiven for feeling a little decadent. Chocolate at breakfast: why not? Strawberries? Absolutely. How about strawberry crêpes with fresh cream and a little chocolate sauce? Well. Okay. More than a little decadent.

My fixation with crêpes had begun a few days before, when I’d happened upon a delicious-looking photo of some over at Book of Yum. I instantly was reminded of Paris, where they are made-to-order by street vendors, and handed to you wrapped up in paper. The sweet type make a lovely snack, while the savoury buckwheat ones serve as a complete meal. Both are delicious. I had not had either in over well over two years – not since I still ate wheat. It was due time to try something new.

I couldn’t help but be nervous, though. I’d never made crêpes before – never mind making them gluten-free – and I didn’t know if such a delicate thing would work without wheat to hold it together. Oh, but they did. And they were so soft. So light and tender and lacy, just like they should be.

A few days later I tried the savoury variety, and they turned out at least as well as the sweet ones had. I wish I could show you a picture. The thing is, though, I’m as new to food photography as I am to blogging, and the pictures just don’t do them justice at all. The best I can do for now, I suppose, is give you the recipes and let you see for yourself!

Crêpes Sucreés (Sweet crêpes)

¼ cup sweet rice flour

¼ cup chestnut flour

¼ tsp sea salt

⅛ tsp guar gum

⅛ tsp sugar

1 cup milk

2 eggs

1 ½ T melted butter

Whisk together the flours, salt, sugar, and guar gum. Pour the milk into a 2-cup (or larger) measuring cup, the kind with the lip to pour from. Lightly beat the eggs into the milk to ensure even blending. Pour the liquids into the bowl, whisking constantly, and add the butter. Let batter stand for 20-30 minutes. Meanwhile, prepare the strawberries.

Slice into a bowl:

1 cup thawed-from-frozen organic strawberries (or use fresh when in season)

Stir in:

¼ tsp real vanilla extract

2 tsp sugar

Allow these to sit while you make the crêpes.

Heat a cast-iron frying pan (or something similar – it must have a handle!) to medium heat. It is not necessary to use oil; the butter in the batter is enough. Once pan is hot, transfer the batter back into the measuring cup – this makes it much easier to pour. Give the batter a quick whisk to make sure everything is still blended.

Now, lift the pan off the burner. Hold it with one hand, and pour a small amount of the batter in with the other. (This should be only enough to coat the pan; they should be very thin.) While the pan is still in the air, quickly swirl it around so the bottom of it is coated. Now set it back down. The crêpes will cook very quickly. As soon as the batter seems to have set, loosen the edges with a fork and flip with a slotted turner to cook the other side. Fill crêpes with strawberries and top with freshly whipped cream.

Crêpes Saleés (Savoury crêpes)

2 T sweet rice flour

2 T chestnut flour

¼ c buckwheat flour

¼ tsp sea salt

⅛ tsp sugar

⅛ tsp guar gum

1 ½ T melted butter

2 eggs

1 cup milk

Follow the same procedures as above for preparing and cooking. Fill with mushrooms, below. For something more substantial, scramble an egg with some cheese and pepper directly onto a crêpe as it finishes cooking, and fold it up.

Champignons (mushrooms)

8 ounces crimini mushrooms

1 – 2 cloves garlic, minced

Splash of white wine

2 T cream

1 T mild white cheese

A little butter

Black pepper, fresh parsley, and fresh thyme to taste

(Dash of sweet rice flour)

Sautee sliced mushrooms in butter and wine until slightly soft. Add garlic and cream over low heat. Melt the cheese into the mixture and add in the herbs and pepper. If necessary, sprinkle in a little sweet rice flour to thicken the cream.