I was blessed to grow up in a family of cooks and one of the principle joys of my childhood was Mom's homemade, whole wheat bread. She didn't make it often and she always complained that we ate it too fast. We, if you can believe it, ate the two loaves of bread that Mom's recipe made at twice the rate of speed at which we ate her coconut cream pies and my mother is past master at the art of coconut cream pies (with real meringue on them, not the whipped cream that some restaurants try to pass off as an authentic topping). Myself… well, I have always loved to cook and especially to bake but for some reason the bread bug never took off in me.
Until, that is, I married Michael and we decided to move to the States so that I could go to grad school. European bread, even the industrial, non-organic, mass-produced stuff is infinitely better than even the “artisanal“ loaves one can buy over here. Oh, and I'm talking about the bread one buys at a bakery, not pre-sliced, bagged, sugar loaded bread from a store. Sadly, Europe does sell Wonderbread-like white masses of blandness too, though not nearly as much of it. But where was I? Oh, right, the States. One cannot take a German who is used to the truly artisanal bread of Germany and move him to the States and expect him to survive so, being a good girlfriend and later wife, I did some research on good bread books, bought one, and started baking. The first attempt looked like a badly misshapen snowman (the two loaves sort of morphed together) but it tasted pretty good so I took heart and kept baking.
We are now three years down the road from that point and I am still baking. Lately I have expanded my bread recipe book collection from two by the original author to four with two new authors, both baking great (and extremely expensive by European and, frankly, even American standards) bread in San Francisco. I plan to eventually review them for you in a sort of side-by-side comparison.
I plan to write several blog entries on bread (some with recipes) as time goes by because I want you to understand it and to love it as much as I do. One of those entries is likely to include a rant against the food industry in the US when it comes to wheat (among other things) but this is not the time. I will only say here that, while celiac disease certainly exists in Europe, as it does everywhere, I do not know a single European with it, nor do I know a single European with even a mild gluten intolerance, while seemingly half of my American friends suffer from it. First though, it is important for you to know that the food scene in the States is improving across the board for the good. That means that if you are lucky enough to live near a really good baker and you have a large food budget, you can buy excellent, European quality (or better) bread. The San Francisco Bay area is one of the areas that seems to appeal to individuals interested in figuring out how to make something the best that it can be. So, for a cool $6, you can buy a loaf of bread from Josey Baker at The Mill or for $8 to $12, from Tartine. There are other options, including a fantastic one at the Campbell Farmer's Market on Sundays (I don't know the name but it will be the place with the longest line), but those are the two I know the best. Now, before you cry out appalled at those prices, you should know that the owners are paying San Francisco real estate lease and labor prices and that they use organic flours that are ground in such a way that the bulk of the nutrients are retained. Bakers aren't in the business to become rich so you won't see any of these individuals driving around in fancy cars and living in multi-million dollar mansions. I can't afford those prices though, so I continue to bake my own bread and you can too. It is far simpler than you might imagine.
When I started my bread baking odyssey, I did it entirely by hand because neither I, nor Michi had anything larger than a hand mixer and, if you want to witness a spectacular electrical meltdown, just try kneading dough for 15 minutes with a hand mixer. Making bread by hand was exhausting at first (hand kneading dough for a full fifteen minutes without a break is no joke) but it was an excellent experience because it taught me how to read the dough. My parents got us a Kitchen Aid for our wedding so I now mostly knead by machine, when I knead at all (some of the books use different techniques that eliminate the need for it - Yeah for that!). European bread contains a significantly higher hydration factor than one will find in most breads baked in the US. This helps with lift and the overall airiness of the interior of the bread and it helps produce that nice chewy crust that I so love about European bread; however, it does make mixing and kneading by hand a very sticky proposition. A great deal of European bread, especially that from Northern Europe, also contains higher percentages of whole grain flours, which, unlike pure white flour, don't break down directly to sugar in the body, which, along with a lot more walking than the average American, contributes to the fact that Europeans are able to eat much more bread than Americans, while maintaining an overall lower weight. So, except for the brioche buns that we prefer for hamburgers (the protein from the egg helps keep the juices from the burger from making the bun a soggy mess - you know the kind I mean - and we had burgers the other day and I may have gone a bit overboard in terms of quantity), you will almost always find our freezer full of breads heavy in whole wheat or rye. You will also find breads with dried fruit and nuts, which we love toasted for breakfast with a bit of homemade jam on top. You will NOT find anything remotely resembling Wonderbread.
One last thing, before I finish this entry, is to tell you that even if you are single or cooking for two, like me, you can make your own bread because it freezes well. The secret is to pop it in the oven (at 350 F) for anywhere between 10 and 15 minutes (once it is thawed). The water in the bread displaces in the freezer and putting it in the oven redistributes it, making it taste fresh from the bakery again.