The case against "aquafaba" (Or, in defense of bean broth).

I realize the title of this post may ruffle some feathers, so let’s get one thing straight: I have nothing against this ingredient - on the contrary, I’ve been using it regularly for a few years now. (If you’re still wondering what this so-called “aquafaba” is, don’t worry, I’m about to fill you in.) And if you know and love this stuff, hear me out - I love it too, but there are a few issues I just can’t overlook...about its name. It’s been quietly bothering me since I first encountered it, and now that some commercial products are starting to use the ingredient, I just have to speak up. 

First off, just to make sure we’re all on the same page here: I’m talking about a certain egg substitution trick that’s been making waves in the last three or so years. It works fantastically in many situations, in fact, often much better and more versatile than other popular subs like flax gel, fruit puree, tofu, or packaged egg replacer. Most importantly, unlike these other egg subs, it creates a stable foam. And chances are, you already have it in your pantry! If you’re already in the loop, you know where this is headed. But if not, get ready...this is going to sound pretty weird. Are you ready? OK, here we go: It’s the liquid from boiled or canned beans. Yep, that soupy stuff you usually pour down the drain. I’m serious! The chemical/molecular reasons why it works are very different from what goes on in an actual egg (I’ll get to this later), but the end results have a surprising number of similarities. When I first read about this back in 2015 I was immediately excited - what a neat way of exploring the properties of food! 

Now, here’s where the controversy comes in: This discovery is attributed to certain individuals in the vegan baking community, and these same people dubbed the ingredient “aquafaba,” cobbled-together Latin for “bean water.” Again, I’m very fond of the ingredient, and find it extremely useful - in fact, in some GF formulas, I find the results to be superior to using actual eggs (I’ll get to that later too). But first, let’s address the terminology. I’m not a fan of that name. Commonly, the immediate response to hearing it is “aqua-what??” Newcomers to free-from diets are already overwhelmed by the long list of unfamiliar inventory. There’s no need to add to that by making up new words for things that we’re already well acquainted with. Just call it what it is: bean broth. That may still take a tiny bit of explaining, but it’s a descriptive and matter-of-fact term that avoids making it sound weird or “alternative.” 

But wait, shouldn’t the people who discovered it have the right to name it what they want?, you may be asking. Which brings me to my next point: I’m not on board with the origin story either. As a matter of fact, we already know that bean broth actually has been deliberately used as an ingredient for centuries. In medieval Europe, where animal foods were intermittently restricted by the Catholic calendar, water from boiling legumes was commonly used to enrich soups in place of meat broth on non-meat days. So we know for a fact people noticed its consistency was useful. That’s an example that’s actually documented - many more everyday uses of humble ingredients likely went unrecorded! This knowledge wasn’t lost in the middle ages, by the way: for instance, the 1982 cookbook Bean Cuisine (where it is referred to as bean stock) suggests using it to add body and flavor to casseroles and soups. 

The people who are given credit for “discovering aquafaba” might have been the first ones to notice that the liquid from canned beans is just the right concentration that it can be subbed for eggs by weight - and that is indeed a highly significant discovery, don’t get me wrong. But considering beans have been boiled in kitchens everywhere for hundreds and hundreds of years, I would honestly be surprised if no one ever considered its potential until 2014. I mean, have you ever watched a pot of beans cooking, when the foam starts to rise and maybe even boils over? That stuff fluffs up like a bubble bath! I can't really fathom that in all the time humans have been cooking legumes, there hasn't been at least one person who's noticed that foam and thought, ‘hey, maybe I could use that property,’ just as people noticed it could be used to thicken. Additionally, on an academic level, the foam-stabilizing properties of legume arabinogalactans have been noted in research papers (specifically, papers focusing on the microstructure of idli and other fermented foods) going back to the 1970s - so we also know the foaming properties were indeed previously recognized as useful in baking applications long before this decade.

So, there’s my rant. Check back soon for part 2, where I’ll show you the science of how and why to use this ingredient for gluten-free baking!

Bean broth whipped for icing.

The difference fermentation makes: GF sourdough from an older bread recipe

Recently when I was preparing a talk on gluten-free sourdough baking, I advised evaluating a new sourdough starter’s activity and flavor by using it in a variety of trusted yeast bread formulas. Wanting to demonstrate my own advice, I tried my starter in several yeast recipes, both other people’s and my own. With one recipe in particular, the results were so good I just had to share!  

The yeasted baguette aux céréales as it appeared on Food52.

To be clear, there are about as many ways to make bread as there are to eat it. Some other sourdough recipes I’ve developed in the past were not adapted from existing recipes and were rather different from any of the ways I make yeast-raised bread. The following is indeed a recipe for a good loaf of bread, but it’s also a demonstration of the difference sourdough makes in a loaf compared to plain baker’s yeast. My original base recipe and the multigrain baguette variation that follows were posted 6 years ago. Recent years have seen gluten-free baking tend towards fewer or single flours and less or no added starch; I too have developed plenty of recipes that reflect these changes, but as the point of this experiment was to use a familiar recipe, this formula remains as it was. 

That said - in the many times I’ve made this bread over the years, my preferred base formula has in fact evolved and changed a little from the version on the blog, including some simplifications and tweaks, but at its heart, it’s definitely still the same recipe. The major changes are as follows:

Chia instead of pectin: I’ve found that chia meal provides a similar function to the pectin I used to use, and is also superior in some ways. (There will be much more information on the starch interactions and other functions of these molecules in my upcoming book - more on this to come!) Because of chia’s mucilaginous properties, I also find it’s most effective when mixed with the water rather than added to the dry mix as the pectin was. Either one will make the dough easier to handle (among other effects), but you can also experiment with leaving it out altogether since this loaf shaped as a boule requires less handling than the original elongated loaf. 

Teff flour instead of grain: teff grains are small enough that they can be used whole in bread, as I did in the old recipe. However, the flour gives a smoother crumb. Flour absorbs water differently than intact grains, so the water’s been adjusted accordingly as well.

Sorghum option: the original recipe calls for brown rice flour, but these days I prefer sorghum. Either one should work fine in this recipe. 

Covered bake: this is a technique to trap steam in the early stages of baking, which helps the loaf expand better and form a nicer crust compared to baking normally in a home oven (it mimics the steamy conditions in a professional bakery oven). I started doing this a few years ago and now bake nearly all my bread this way - the difference is impressive. (You’ll also notice the sourdough version omits the baking powder in the original; a combination of the sourdough and the covered bake produces plenty of expansion - aka oven spring - without it.)

These above changes are still just tweaks and details - the real star of this recipe modification is the sourdough. Why? The key is the mixed fermentation by a variety of lactic acid bacteria and wild yeast, which break down molecules in the flour in a way that creates different texture, flavor, and structure than domestic yeast. This is true even of wheat breads, but the difference is especially striking in GF formulas. I believe that in the case of the properties of many GF flours, this mixed fermentation is a better fit than that of baker’s yeast.  

Gluten-Free Sourdough Boule

Part 1: Sponge

50 g sorghum flour or brown rice flour

35 g light buckwheat flour (see this post for more about the difference between standard and light buckwheat flours)

35 g garbanzo flour

25 g teff flour

120 g filtered/spring water, slightly warm 

40 g GF sourdough starter (see part 1 and part 2 of starter tutorial)

[Optional: 4 g (1 tsp) sugar (recommended if your starter has been in the fridge)]

Combine sponge flours in medium bowl. Stir together the water and starter (and sugar if using) and let sit for 15 minutes. Stir into the flours. Cover and set aside at room temp for 12 hours.

The sponge won't rise a whole lot, but it will be split on top and bubbly underneath.

Part 2: Dough - 12 hours later

125 g tapioca starch

25 g sweet rice flour

7 g psyllium husks (not powder)

3 g (½ tsp) sea salt

125-135 g filtered/spring water, slightly warm (start with 125 and add more if needed - see below)

¼ tsp chia meal

[Optional: a little sugar (2-4 g)]

[Optional: a tiny pinch (like 1/16 tsp) yeast (see Note below)] 

6 g (about 1 ½ tsp) olive oil

2-5 g honey, to taste

Combine the tapioca, sweet rice flour, salt, and psyllium in a large bowl. Stir together 125 g water and chia (and yeast and sugar, if using) and stir this into the fermented sponge, making sure there are no lumps. Pour this mixture over the dry mix and stir/knead with a spatula until it comes together, then knead a little by hand. Cover and set aside for 30 minutes. Mix in the oil and honey. Knead again by hand and assess the stiffness - add up to 10 g reserved water if necessary to make the dough smooth, silky, and slightly elastic. Shape the dough into a smooth ball. (If you have a banneton/brotform/rising basket, this is a great time to use it! You can even try using a well-floured bowl to rise the loaf. Otherwise, just let the loaf rise on parchment.) The dough will need to rise 2 hours. After about an hour or so, preheat the oven (with a baking stone or dutch oven) to 450º F to make sure it is thoroughly heated. Once the dough has risen for about 2 hours, turn it out from the rising basket/bowl (if using) and cut slashes in the top crust. Put the loaf on the heated stone (or in the dutch oven) and cover with a large metal bowl (or lid). Bake covered for the first 11 minutes, then uncover; total bake time 50 minutes.

Let the loaf cool completely (minimum ~4 hours) before cutting. (I know, I know! It smells so good you’ll want to tear it open right away! But trust me, you’ll be glad you waited - the starch structure of the bread needs to set for you to enjoy its texture.) Thanks to the sourdough, this bread should stay soft for at least a couple days if you store it cut-side down on a wooden board...but if it gets a little stiff, it will also make excellent toast!

Sourdough toast with honey: simple, yet delectable.

Note on added yeast: Dry baker’s yeast is a particular strain of Saccharomyces cerevisiae that has been selected for certain traits, including plentiful production of carbon dioxide to make bread rise rapidly. S. cerevisiae is far from the only yeast species useful for bread, though - in fact, when it comes to sourdough other yeast species are far more likely to occur as S. cerevisiae doesn’t thrive well in many starters. The wild yeasts produce better flavor and texture, but you might find the rise produced by your starter is slightly less than expected. If so, try adding the suggested pinch of yeast to your bread - you’ll still get all the benefits of the sourdough, plus just a little boost from the baker’s yeast.

Single-flour ginger cookies from an heirloom GF recipe

I have previously mentioned the wealth of historically-GF recipes that stemmed from wheat rationing during the first World War. Though these recipes were widespread just a century ago, few of them survived the 20th century's changes to our food system and eating habits. And, like early versions of many recipes, quite a few of these formulas were not quite perfect - the rationing only lasted a couple of years, and changes in wheat production and distribution led to our GF flours falling sharply in popularity shortly after the war. (While there are vast numbers of traditionally-GF recipes that were popular for decades or centuries preceding this time, the GF formulas in vogue during rationing were primarily all-new, all-modern approaches designed to use only techniques and ratios similar to those used with wheat, so these new formulas just didn't have time to get the kinks worked out.) But! With these recipes now being in the public domain, it's easy to find potential gems worthy of attention and fine-tuning!  

The original, unspiced version with maple.

One such gem: Buckwheat Cookies. Three versions of a buckwheat cookie recipe appeared in the periodical American Cookery in 1917-1918; Maple Buckwheat Cookies, using maple syrup in place of (also rationed) sugar was given in October 1918, and Buckwheat Cookies made with plain sugar appeared two months later in December. The earliest prototypical version, using no leavening or salt, was printed in April 1917, as part of an article containing some insights on working with buckwheat flour. All three versions instruct to simply roll out and cut the dough. For this to work with the maple version, the syrup needs to be boiled until quite thick. I decided this seemed too fussy - too much guesswork about just how much boiling - so for my first trial, I made a hybrid version using mostly sugar with a little maple, following the instructions for mixing and beating the eggs. Still, rolling and cutting was not really an option with this thick sticky batter, even after chilling.

The magazine's photo of the maple recipe proves it must be possible in theory. There are, however, a number of variables at play - most notably, the fact that eggs have gotten larger in the intervening decades, and the inevitable impreciseness of volume measurements for flour. Several test batches later, I still hadn't gotten it to be worth the trouble of rolling and cutting. (You'll see some successfully cut cookies in my pictures, but it was just too fussy and messy compared to simply pressing flat balls of dough.) But in the meantime, each successive batch became tastier, so I decided to give up on the rolling part and just make round cookies. 

I will share my interpretation of the original recipes some other time, but for now - because it's Christmas - I'm sharing a delightfully spiced gingerbread spin on this cookie! Now, I have tweaked the recipe quite a bit by this point - for this version, instead of my original combination of sugar and syrup, I've used sugar and buckwheat honey to complement the buckwheat flour. Also, to combat the overly-sticky/battery nature of earlier trials, I have reduced the quantity of liquid by replacing the egg with a smaller quantity of my favorite egg substitute: bean broth, AKA the stuff from a can of chickpeas (if you've never heard of this, I have a very in-depth post in the works covering all the particulars of this ingredient and why it's way more than merely an egg sub; in the meantime, you can look up "aquafaba" as some people call it). 

I really like using an egg substitute like this because I'm not limited to the size of pre-existing eggs, making recipes both endlessly adjustable and extremely scalable! (Much nicer and simpler than ending up with those little jars containing 1/4 or 1/3 of an egg populating the fridge. ...What, surely I'm not the only one who's done this in the name of science?!) I've also simplified the mixing procedure a bit compared to the original, as with no actual egg, there is no need to develop the egg protein structure by beating. And of course, this conveniently makes the recipe all ready to go to accommodate those with egg sensitive or vegan dietary needs. Yay, cookies for all!

Makes about 20-24 small cookies - scale up or down as desired!

56 g natural palm-coconut shortening or butter, room temperature

140 g buckwheat flour (I tested with Arrowhead Mills, as it is widely available and certified GF)

74 g sugar

30 g buckwheat honey (you may also use molasses, beet syrup, or maple syrup for fully vegan)

40 g bean broth, room temperature (see note above)

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp salt

ginger and cinnamon and other spices (i.e. allspice, cardamom, cloves) or mixed spice / pumkin pie spice / etc to taste (use at least 1/2 tsp total)

optional: currants/raisins and/or candied citrus peel

Combine the flour, baking powder, salt, and spices in a bowl. In the bowl of a mixer or other bowl, cream together the shortening or butter and the sugar, then mix in the honey. Beat in some of the bean broth, then part of the dry mix, then the rest of each and mix until uniform. Chill the dough for a couple of hours (optional, but makes it easier to handle and improves texture). Roll the dough in small balls, press flat on a parchment-lined sheet, and if desired, decorate with currants and/or candied peel. Bake at 350ºF/175ºC until lightly browned at the edges (exact time will vary based on the size of your cookies - about 11-15 minutes).

More GF Christmas cookies and cookie tips:

The above recipe can be iced for a more festive cookie. The round one in this picture is an earlier version of this recipe made with beet syrup instead of honey; these are iced with a vegan royal icing made from the same bean broth used in the cookies! 

"Magic cookie bars" or "Seven layer bars" are conventionally made with graham cracker crumbs - you can use GF cookie crumbs, but you can also easily make a from-scratch crust, such as this one, for a simple, economical, and slightly different treat (this is how I always make them now)! A couple hints:

- You do not need to pre-bake the crust when using it for these cookies. 

- Instead of the mixture of oats and oat flour the crust recipe calls for, you may also use all oat flour in the cookie crust.

Assorted cookies from last Christmas, made with various mixes

Spritz cookie recipe from last Christmas

Yeast bread techniques, Lesson 3: Density

In the quest for the perfect crusty, open-crumbed loaf for sopping up olive oil and making sandwiches, it can sometimes be easy to overlook the other kinds of bread out there. There are so many kinds of delightfully dark, flavorful breads to be discovered in European baking traditions - they may not have caught on here in the way that lighter French or Italian bread styles have, but they're no less delicious. 

People accustomed to whiter flours tend to equate "dense" with disappointment. Gluten-free bakers, especially, are all too familiar with that association: a slab of bland starch, a crumbly dry sandwich that falls apart when you try to bite it. We've all choked down more than a few slices of that kind of bread.

This is not that bread. 

It's true it may not be as multi-purpose as a lighter bread, but that's not a bad thing. It's somewhat akin to aged cheese, or dry sausage - slice it thinly, pair it with the right things, and you're in for a treat. Yes, dense bread can be a very good thing indeed! 

This particular recipe is a German-style loaf. Vollkornbrot simply means, literally, "whole grain bread." So, while it is most commonly a rye-based sourdough, there's nothing that says it has to be - it just needs to be composed completely of whole ingredients. 

This recipe certainly meets that definition. That's right - it doesn't need any refined starch at all. It also doesn't need any single-function binders or thickeners, not even pectin, or any baking powder. All of its structure, substance, flavor, and binding capacity comes from whole-food ingredients. In this case, that's just grains, seeds, legumes, and sweet potato...and one more, um, unconventional ingredient. You see, I was looking for a way to make good bread while waiting for my sourdough starter to wake up after we'd been out of town. I've had good results using yogurt and kefir for makeshift sourdough in the past, but this time I decided to try something new: sauerkraut! Or rather, sauerkraut juice. Don't worry, it's not enough to taste anything unusual in the bread - just enough to get some fermentation going. And I think it works even better than the yogurt! 

This is a very high-hydration bread; while it does definitely come together as a dough (as opposed to a batter), don't expect to be shaping this one with your hands! On that same note, you really don't need a mixer for this one - in fact, it comes together quite easily with just a spatula.

This bread is also very simple to make. There are no complicated techniques or skills required - the recipe is long because I've included so many notes and pictures to make it as clear and approachable as possible. 

A few notes:

- This recipe is very flexible. Just be sure to keep roughly the same basic proportions of whole grains and seeds (i.e. things you'd normally cook), soft seeds (i.e. those that can be eaten raw), and flours. Using an assortment of small, medium, and large grains/seeds will make the bread more interesting and attractive, but it should still work if you use (for example) all millet for the whole grain or all sunflower for the soft seeds. The chia, flax, and sweet potato are the essential constants - these each contribute unique properties, so changing any of them may change the result significantly. (I'd love to get into the chemistry of this, but this post is long enough already!)

- You need raw sauerkraut for this to work. This means not the canned/shelf-stable kind; it needs to be fresh with live, active cultures. Full disclosure: the kraut I used contains a little bit of ginger, which is known to increase yeast activity, but I really don't think it's enough to make a difference to the amount of yeast required in this situation.

- I touched on the difference between light and dark buckwheat flours in this post, and it may sound like I'm contradicting myself here. In this case, I recommend specifically using dark buckwheat flour from Anson Mills - the color comes from some of the hulls being milled with the grain, as with any dark buckwheat flour; the difference is, the hulls in AM's flour are toasted to bring out the aromatic aspects, and (like all their flours) it's been specially processed and stored in a way that prevents undesirable oxidation. This results in a flour that is complex and flavorful rather than harsh-tasting. However, it's still capable of overwhelming other flavors if used in high quantities, and with this recipe there's a lot of flavor complexity from the other grains and seeds that I don't want to cover up. That's where the other type comes in. Light buckwheat flour is milder, as it does not contain any hull fragments. The easiest way to get it is probably to just grind it yourself from whole buckwheat in a coffee grinder or food processor. If for whatever reason you don't want to use both, I recommend either: using the dark buckwheat in the amounts called for and adding more garbanzo or pea flour in place of the light kind, or using the light kind for all the buckwheat called for. 

- I make sweet potato puree in large batches for feeding my sourdough starter - this batch came out a bit watery, definitely much thinner than regular mashed sweet potatoes, so you may need to water yours down a bit to match the consistency shown. (It should be about the consistency of baby food...I think? It's been twentysomething years since I've encountered baby food, and I wasn't exactly in a position to evaluate it objectively, ha!) Here I used a yellow/white-fleshed variety, but the more common orange types work just as well.

- You will need a Pullman loaf pan or other bread pan with an oven-safe lid/cover (even a makeshift lid will do). Just make sure there is plenty of room for the loaf to rise without hitting the lid! 

Multigrain Vollkornbrot

As written, this recipe makes a smallish loaf. If you would like to use a full-size Pullman pan, you may double the recipe.

Grain soak:

20 grams each: whole millet, whole buckwheat, whole amaranth, GF steel-cut oats, whole teff, short-grain brown rice.

120 g mineral water, hot

1/8 tsp salt

Sponge:

35 g dark buckwheat flour (source)

35 g teff flour

30 g garbanzo flour or pea flour

20 g GF rolled oats

110 g mineral water, hot

15 g sauerkraut juice

1/8 tsp yeast

Combine all grain soak ingredients in a small bowl. In a large bowl, stir the hot water into the flours and oats, and add the kraut juice and yeast once it's cooled a little. Cover both bowls and set aside at room temperature for about 14 hours. 

Dry mix:

50 g light buckwheat flour

30 g pea flour or garbanzo flour

20 g dark buckwheat flour 

25 g pepita (pumpkin seed) meal (grind in food processor/blender)

5 g chia meal

5 g flax meal

4 g sea salt

Seeds:

25 g pepitas (pumpkin seeds)

25 g sunflower seeds

15 g hemp seeds

15 g flax seeds

50 g chia seeds

Additional ingredients:

180 g sweet potato puree

40 g mineral water, or more as needed

Next day, mix the chia seeds, flax seeds, and 40 g water into the grain soak and set aside to thicken for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Then add in the remaining seeds. Stir the sweet potato into the sponge, then the seed/grain mixture. 

Gradually add the flour. The mixture will seem pretty runny at first, but it will become more cohesive as the chia and flax polysaccharides become more hydrated - set it aside for a few minutes to prepare the baking pan. 

Cut a piece of parchment that is large enough to line the entire inside of the baking pan, plus enough extra to come a couple of inches over the top. Fold it so it will lay smoothly against the sides of the pan, including in the corners - essentially, you're folding a paper box to nest neatly inside the baking pan. It is important that the sides be fully covered, and that the paper is folded so it overlaps to form "handles" at the short ends of the box - you will need to use these handles. (This probably sounds much more complicated than it is - the picture below should clear up any confusion.)

Remove the paper box and set it, slightly unfolded, on a flat surface.

Lightly knead the dough with the spatula for a moment - see how much more cohesive it's become? Now, scoop the dough onto the paper, aiming to put it only on the bottom part of the paper box, like so:

Forming the loaf this way produces much neater results than trying to scoop thick dough directly into a lined pan.

Now, re-fold the paper "handles" at the short ends, grab onto them, and lift the loaf into the baking pan. Adjust the paper as needed to straighten wrinkles, scraping any stray strands of dough off the paper with a spatula. Fold the excess paper over the sides of the box, like a collar.      

Smooth the top with a wet spatula or pastry brush, making sure to moisten all exposed surface. Cover the loaf and set it someplace cozy. After one hour, repeat the moistening process, taking care not to tear or squish the surface - don't worry if it hasn't risen visibly by this point. Cover again and let rise another hour. By this point you should notice a slight increase in height - it won't be dramatic, just enough to prove that the yeast is active. Most of the increase in volume will happen in the oven. Make sure your lid/cover allows enough room for that!

Score the top with a sharp paring knife to allow it to expand in the oven. You may notice the top of the loaf has formed a sort of filmy skin - cut carefully so you don't tear this skin too much. Place the pan, covered, directly on the baking stone with oven pre-heated to 475F/245C and bake covered for 6 minutes. Remove cover, continue baking at that temp about 4-5 minutes, then lower the temperature setting to 440F/225 C (this makes sure the oven has returned to the starting temperature before then gradually lowering). After 40 minutes, lower the temperature once more to 425F/220C. Remove the pan from the oven, and -- carefully! -- grab hold of the folded paper "handles" on both ends of the loaf, lift it from the pan, and quickly return the paper-wrapped loaf to the baking stone. Continue baking another 20-25 minutes, until all sides of the loaf are firm.

Once the loaf is cool enough to handle, place it in a paper bag to finish cooling (this helps distribute moisture evenly).

Wait, there's still one more thing you need to do! This is the hardest step: wait 18-24 hours before cutting the loaf. Yes, I know it smells wonderful! I know warm, fresh-baked bread is tantalizing, and you will have the impulse to immediately slather it with butter. But believe it or not, even after all that baking time, it's actually still not "done" yet - the carbohydrate structure needs to finish setting, which happens gradually as it cools. This is true of any bread that gets most or all of its structure from polysaccharide chains - even 100%-rye breads, while they do of course contain gluten, actually get much of their crumb structure from carbohydrates, and as a result will be sticky and pasty if cut too soon. The amount of time this takes depends on many factors in the bread's composition - some breads are OK to cut as soon as they're cool, but others (including this one) take longer. This waiting period also gives some time for the flavor to mature.

Store the bread wrapped in a paper bag. It can be kept this way for a few days at room temperature - past that, it should probably be refrigerated. 

Butternut Polenta Bread

The first sign of fall comes not with the changing of the leaves, but rather with the appearance of recipes. Or so I realized a couple of weeks ago, as I saw - even in the summery heat - the umpteenth new food-related thing with fall or autumn in the title. Of course, it actually is autumn now, although there are enough warm days ahead to make it feel still a long way off. Late summer has that way of making time seem to stand still. Indeed, the first changes were nearly imperceptible, drowned out by the cicadas' droning in the humid air, and the continuing bounty of summer vegetables distracting from the fact that the sunset comes a bit sooner each day. Yet, rather than remain enthralled with the season, we rush its exit as we begin - as if by some kind of instinct - longing for coziness, apple cake, and casseroles (and pumpkin spice lattes, apparently). It might be strange, given how fall inevitably gives way to months of cold, that we welcome the end of summer so readily. Fall has always been my favorite season, so personally I understand getting excited over the subtle signs of the weather changing. But I think there's something special about this transition which causes us to notice things like crisp mornings and reddening leaves with a particular kind of anticipation. The onset of autumn is just so much more sudden than, say, the gradual budding of branches - in a matter of days, the color of a landscape can change completely. Is it any wonder we get so excited about it?

I realize I've written about seasons frequently here - many food blogs do, by nature of the ingredients, but unlike heirloom tomatoes or chanterelle mushrooms or delicate strawberries, the ingredients that go into bread are (generally) not a seasonal food. Yet, the essence of a particular time of year goes much deeper than what can be found at the farmers' market. Many flavors which are so imbued by a season became that way through association and memory more than any inherent quality of the ingredients. Lemons ripen in winter, yet their fresh tartness and bright color bring to mind spring and even summer. The spices which make up "pumpkin spice" or "cider spice" - cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, cardamom - also make their way into recipes throughout the year. Nonetheless, when combined, they seem to intrinsically evoke the essence of autumn, and we begin to crave them even while the leaves on the trees are still quite green. The traditions of recipes and flavors pervade the season, even after most "seasonal" foods are now available perenially.

Perhaps that's part of it - we used to have so many inherently seasonal, often ephemeral tastes and textures from fresh vegetables and fruits; in colder months, seasonal association of spices and condiments would be influenced by what stored well and even which spices helped preserve other, more perishable foods. 

Now, we're of course fortunate to have access to fresh, nutritive foods throughout the year. But even with our nutritional needs taken care of, still we remain hungry for the ritual of changing flavors. Perhaps the desire for this seasonality actually is some kind of instinct - deeper even than tradition, a biological longing to take part in a cycle of time and place. Interesting to think about, isn't it? But I'll stop there, lest I stray too far into philosophical culinary anthropologist territory. The point I was getting to is: the second sign of fall is the arrival of butternut squashes - which are a very good topping for bread, as it turns out!

I know I explained recently why I might not be posting any new yeast bread recipes for a while. However, after some further thought, I decided to also work on some breads which don't require the sourdough starters or involved techniques or unusual ingredients I've been so enamored with lately. Breads in the style of the ones so many readers here have made and enjoyed. This one is based loosely on my ciabatta recipe, but using different, more flavorful flours. It's been so long since I made a dough of this kind, I wasn't sure what to expect - I started out envisioning something similar to a focaccia, but the recipe ended up taking a different direction with the coarsely-ground cornmeal. (I was so excited a few days ago to find a local source of truly gluten-free white and yellow cornmeal, I just couldn't wait to put them in something!) It's actually somewhere in between focaccia and cornbread in its texture and flavor. But I think it's pretty good. Also like both those breads, this is good for when you want a bread that's almost more like a side dish - pleasantly savory and filling. The natural sweetness of the cornmeal and the squash complement one another nicely, and still allow the flavor of the oil and herbs to come through.

I used rosemary, but I think fresh sage would be even better. (In fact, I'd planned on using sage, but when I went out to my little garden, there were hornets on my sage. So...yeah. Rosemary it is.)

This is a simple two-stage dough: first an overnight sponge, and then the remaining ingredients are added the next day to make the final dough. It's also very easy to make, as there isn't any shaping procedure - the dough goes straight into the dutch oven as soon as it's mixed, and easily spreads to the edges as you press the toppings into the surface.

For the sponge:

60 g finely-ground yellow cornmeal

40 g coarse cornmeal/polenta (I used half yellow and half white)

25 g buckwheat flour

25 g garbanzo flour

10 g potato flour (not the same as potato starch)

180 g boiling water

1/8 tsp dry yeast

Combine the dry ingredients, except the yeast, and stir in the boiling water. Cover the bowl and let stand for about 10 minutes before mixing in the yeast. Cover bowl and set aside for about 14 hours.

For the final dough:

85 g tapioca starch

85 g potato starch (not the same as potato flour)

15 g sweet rice flour

35 g garbanzo flour

2 tsp psyllium husks

1/2 tsp Pomona's citrus pectin

6 g sea salt

1 tsp double-acting baking powder

120 g water, warm

2 tsp white chia meal

up to 1/4 tsp yeast (depending on how active the sponge seems; I used 1/8 tsp)

30 g olive oil (use a flavorful one)

2-3 fresh sage leaves or fresh rosemary sprigs

about 100 g butternut squash, peeled and sliced very thinly (I used a mandoline)

(optional: a small handful of shredded lacinato kale or additional fresh herbs)

Pour the olive oil into the bottom of a dutch oven and add the whole sage leaves or rosemary sprigs. Warm the oil over low heat until the herbs have softened slightly - stir them around occasionally to help release their flavor. Remove from heat, remove the herbs and set aside. Combine all dry ingredients except the chia meal and yeast, and set aside. Stir the warm water into the sponge, followed by the chia meal and yeast. This mixture will thicken over the next couple of minutes. Next add the dry mix, about 1/3rd at a time, to form a soft dough. Then, pour out 15 g of the oil into the dough bowl (make sure it's not too hot!). Mix until the oil is just combined.

Pour most of the remaining oil over the squash slices, leaving a bit in the dutch oven to coat the bottom generously. Sprinkle ~ 1 tsp cornmeal over the bottom of the pot, and scoop the dough into the oiled dutch oven. Cut the sage leaves into small pieces (or strip the rosemary leaves from the stem) and scatter herbs over the surface of the dough. Then arrange the squash slices, overlapping them slightly, gently pressing each slice to help it stick. Cover the dutch oven and set aside to rise for 60-75 minutes. 

Don't worry if the dough doesn't quite reach the sides of the pot - it will expand as it bakes. 

Meanwhile, put an oven rack in the lower half of the oven, and heat the oven to 450º F. When bread is finished rising, place the covered dutch oven into the oven. Bake for 9 minutes covered, then remove the lid and lower the oven temperature to 420º F. Bake for another 40-45 minutes. (Add the kale or additional herbs, if using, about 5 minutes before the bread is done.) Let rest in the pot 10-15 minutes, then remove and let cool at least 45 minutes more before slicing.

P.S. - Speaking of seasonal things... for those of you in NC, the Triangle Gluten Intolerance Festival is this Saturday, September 27, at a pumpkin farm! Plenty of food tastings and family activities, all gluten-free - sounds like fun!

{Ratio Rally} More bread for the table

When I saw that Karen of Cooking Gluten Free had chosen bread for this month's Ratio Rally, I immediately thought of three things:
- I had to make some kind of bread I'd never done before (which I did!)
- I had do a science post (well, that part didn't happen. But more on that later.)
- I was really, really excited. Not just excited about baking bread - excited to see everyone baking bread, proving to the world that even without gluten, flour and water can be transformed into something amazing, something you can proudly have on your table.

After all, bread has essentially been this blog's raison d'être since the very beginning - even the name says it all. A bakery of bread - real bread - which happens to all be gluten-free. I knew from the start, of course, that I would create recipes for many other things as well, but bread in particular holds a special importance to me (a fact which has come up in quite a few of these posts).

But where to start? Since my first post a couple of years ago, I've made dozens and dozens of breads. Nowhere near all of them made it into a post of course, but the best ones did. And each of those "best breads" was posted because when I saw that loaf of real bread browning in my oven, or smelled that fresh-baked crust, or - most of all - tasted something that was truly good, I wanted to share it. There was the first time I discovered that yeast bread not only could be made without eggs or gums, but also that it was so much better that way! Then there was the delicious, authentic-tasting French multigrain bread that had no gums, eggs, or dairy (and the even simpler base recipe, from when I came up with a loaf-shaping strategy that consistently produced an attractive loaf). There was when I finally developed a truly satisfying pizza dough. And though it seems like so long ago now, it's been just two years since I made my very first best bread - at the time I knew next to nothing about food chemistry (meaning baking felt closer to superstition than science), and I still hadn't branched out beyond the eggs-and-xanthan gum formula, but at the time it was by far the best gluten-free bread I'd had. (Some of my newer recipes have what I consider much better taste and texture, but that old bread remains the most popular recipe on this blog - I will admit, the eggs do help things rise quite impressively.)

I thought about all these things as I was deciding just what kind of bread to make for this month's Rally, and suddenly I found myself feeling, well, pretty overwhelmed. And perfectionistic. Little things I brush off when baking just for myself suddenly seemed like huge issues: the crumb was too dark, or too dense; the crust didn't brown enough; there was too much whole-grain flavor, or not enough flavor at all. After several loaves of this criticism, I was growing weary of fighting the properties of gluten-less flours (and the laws of gravity) - it was time to try a different approach. Don't worry, I'm certainly not giving up on a wonderful baguette or boule or any of those other delicious things. In fact, I'll be devoting an upcoming post to exactly why those big loaves are so difficult, and what to do about it...with science!

Just...not this week. And that's where ciabatta comes in.

You see, ciabatta could be considered the odd bread out in the gluten-bread baking world (and I don't just mean its history - I'm talking about the dough itself). We tend to think of gluten dough as something that is, compared to GF dough, so easy to handle; so much more resilient and cooperative. Yet when I was looking at recipes for this particular type of bread, I noticed something odd. Nearly every one stated the dough must be worked using a stand mixer or bread machine knead cycle; they said it simply can't be kneaded by hand. A couple of recipes even went so far as to instruct "throw everything you know about bread dough out the window"! (Any of this sound familiar, gluten-free bakers?!)

Now, don't get me wrong -- ciabatta, just like other regular breads, is definitely very much dependent on gluten for its structure and texture. But while we lack the advantages of gluten to work with, this is one case where we can also avoid its disadvantages - in the case of ciabatta, the fact that its flour:water ratio means the gluten is really sticky. My ciabatta dough may not be strong and stretchy like regular dough, but it's actually quite easy to handle if you follow the instructions. And oh, the texture! With the loaf being so flat, it's not weighing itself down as much - so you'll get an airier crumb than you usually see in (eggless) GF breads. I even included a video clip to show you just how nice the texture is. (Sorry for the poor video quality - it was filmed on a phone - but I think it gets the point across!)

See how soft and stretchy it is?! I hope that after that, you really want to make some of your own now. Just a couple more quick notes to add before I get to the recipe:

- If you want to try to get your bread to rise up more (rather than spread out), try placing something on either side of it (separated by parchment) during the final part of the rising, somewhat akin to how a couche works.
- You can use potato starch in place of some of the tapioca starch if you want the insides of the bread to be whiter (have a look at this pizza dough, which is mostly a very similar flour composition, and you'll see what I mean). You may need to add a bit more water if using some potato starch, though.


Ciabatta (Gluten-free, gum-free, egg-free/vegan)
The ratio for this recipe is 4 parts flour:3 parts water. This is fairly typical for this style of bread, even when made with wheat (whereas wheat sandwich bread, for instance, is usually a 5:3 ratio). Though there is some oil in this bread, the amount is too small to make a clean ratio - there is however a similar concept that can accommodate small amounts of oil, etc using percentages (called baker's percentage) which I will introduce in an upcoming post, or you can look it up if you want.


For the sponge:
40 g oat flour
100 g brown rice flour
12 g buckwheat flour
16 g potato flour (not starch)
12 g tapioca starch
1/2 tsp yeast (preferably "bread machine/rapid" yeast)
20 mL organic apple cider vinegar
160 mL warm water

For the final dough:
220 g tapioca starch
1 2/3 T (5 tsp) psyllium
1/2 tsp Pomona's citrus pectin
1 tsp sea salt
1 tsp sugar
1/2 tsp yeast (preferably "bread machine/rapid" yeast)
120 mL warm water
30 mL (2 T) olive oil

For shaping the loaves:
1 tsp double-acting baking powder
2-4 tsp olive oil
rice flour
tapioca starch

Method
1. The night before you want to make bread, you'll need to make the sponge: Combine the dry ingredients for the sponge (including yeast) in a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer. Add the vinegar and warm water and stir until it forms a stiff dough - it will become more fluid as it ferments. Cover tightly, and set aside to ferment for 12-14 hours.
2. In a separate bowl, combine all the dry ingredients for the final loaf (including yeast).
3. Stir about half of this dry mixture into the fermented sponge, followed by about half the water; then add the rest of the dry mixture, the rest of the water, and the olive oil. (If using a mixer, use the paddle attachment.) The dough will be more loose and slack than usual, but it should not be sticky.

4. Prepare 2 or 4 pieces of parchment (depending on whether you are making small or large loaves). Put a generous splash of olive oil on each parchment for ease of handling the dough.
5. Divide the dough into 2 or 4 pieces, and flatten each into a rectangle as if making very thin pizza:

Be careful not to tear or poke holes in it.

6. Sprinkle 1/2 tsp baking powder evenly on each rectangle (or 1/4 tsp if making 4 smaller loaves). Then fold two of the parallel edges inward, like this:

7. Now fold those edges in once more, overlapping slightly to form a seam:

8. Prepare a baking sheet or pizza peel with a very generous dusting of rice flour.
9. Once the shaped loaves have been resting seam-side up for 15-20 minutes, you will "flip" them onto the baking sheet so they are seam-side down for the rest of the rising time. Do this by grasping the edges of the parchment paper and lifting one side to quickly (but gently!) transfer them onto the floured area:

Handle gently to avoid deflating the loaf.

10. When all your loaves are resting seam-side down on the floured baking sheet/pizza peel, allow them to continue rising for another ~40 minutes (they will approximately double in size). Meanwhile preheat the oven to 230ºC/450ºF with a baking stone on the bottom rack. (If you don't have one, you can bake on a cookie sheet.) 

11. Shortly before putting them in the oven, dust the top of each loaf with a good amount of rice flour and/or tapioca starch. Optional: place a pan of water on the top rack of the oven to create steam - this helps produce a crisp crust. 

12. Gently slide each loaf onto the baking stone - the rice flour will mostly keep them from sticking, but a dough scraper may be useful to ease the transfer with minimal disturbance to the risen loaf. (If you will be baking on the baking sheet, simply place the sheet on the bottom rack of the oven.) Bake for 40-60 minutes (the shorter time will produce a crisp crust; the longer time will give a crunchy crust but will allow more steam to escape from the bread for a lighter loaf overall). Remove from the oven and cover with a dish towel until cool - do not cut until completely cool.

Crusty bread, olive oil, pepper: Enjoy!

~ Check out the rest of this month's bread creations over at Cooking Gluten Free! ~