Thursday, February 7, 2013

Soft Pretzels - Cracking the Amish Encryption


My daughter loves to help when I'm cooking in the kitchen so I try to find things that she likes to eat and would have fun helping out with.  By the age of three she was assisting with rolling out pizza dough and helping catch the fresh pasta as it went through the rollers.  By the age of four she got her first award as an assistant brewer when she helped me brew a Kolsch that did well in a local competion and made her very own first loaf of bread.  Now she's five and we spend a lot of time in the kitchen.

One of the things we like to make (and have made many times in the past) are homemade soft pretzels.  More often than not, I will look to Alton Brown for guidance when trying something new and he just happened to have a great video and recipe for making soft pretzels.  We made the recipe several times and it produced very good pretzels, but they weren't quite as good as the ones we could find at the Amish market around the corner.  And I needed to know why.

The Dutch market is probably my favorite place to shop... and I've said many times, if they sold booze and seafood I wouldn't shop anywhere where else.  It's always packed, and for good reason.  So ready to solve the mystery of the Amish pretzel I printed out my Alton Brown recipe and headed to the market. 

It was an exceptionally busy day and the pretzel counter had a line of close to twenty people.  Everyone selling pretzels was very busy so I wasn't sure I was going to be able to glean any information on improving my recipe.  I broke through the pretzel line and worked my way into the candy store where I could look over one shelf into the back of the pretzel making area.  I saw a guy rolling up some sausage and cheese pretzels (which are about the best things in the world) and figured I might be able to ask one question without disturbing his work too much.  I tucked my recipe away in my pocket and thought I'd find out about temperature.  My recipe called for baking them at 450 degrees for 12-14 minutes.  I wanted to see if that was in line with their technique. 

I awkwardly yelled over the candy shelf, "What temp do you bake the pretzels?".

He looked up and told me they actually bake them at 600 degrees in special stone ovens that radiate an even heat.  He went on to tell me that since you want crisp on the outside and soft in the middle, you want higher heat for a shorter time.  It made sense.  I thanked him and right before I let him get back to work I thought I'd at least make sure I was using the right flour.  "All purpose flour?"  I asked.  He shook his head and said they use oxidant flour.  I wasn't sure I heard him correctly so I asked again and again he replied oxidant flour.  I was puzzled, but I thanked him and left.  Working my way back through the now longer pretzel line, a lady asked me what type of flour he had said.  "Oxidant?" I told her and she was as puzzled as I was.  I was sure google could help me out when I got home but I quickly stopped by the spice/pantry section of the market to see if I could find that oxidant flour.  They have at least a dozen different types of flour for sale and I browsed through them to see if I could figure out what it was.  And to my embarrassment, there it was.  Occident bread flour.  It was a brand, not an oxidizing property.  Who knew?  I bought a bag and made my way home.

After doing some googling on Occident flour I stumbled up an Amish soft pretzel recipe that was printed and reprinted across the internet. The dough had more sugar and no salt, but the interesting thing was the difference in the kneading.  My Alton Brown recipe had me working it in a stand mixer for a good 5 minutes and the Amish recipe had me just mixing it together then I kneading for about 30 seconds to get it into a good dough texture.  I'm guessing the higher amount of gluten in the bread flour would make the dough much tougher if kneaded for a longer period. 

Oh.... and butter.  This recipe called for a dunk in butter as soon as they were done cooking.  I've seen them do it a hundred times at the market but I never bothered with it when I made them at home.  Boy, was that a mistake.

Don't forget the butter dunk!

It was time to finally make some pretzels.  My oven doesn't go up 600 so I cranked it up to 500 and put my pizza stone in just below the rack I was going to bake on.  I figured that might help at least keep an even heat like the stone ovens at the Amish market.  I kind of hodge-podged my two recipes together and came up with success!  Here is the recipe:

Dough:
1 1/4 cups warm water
1 packet yeast
1/4 cup brown sugar
4 cups bread flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt

Pre-bake Dip:
1/2 cup baking soda
1 quart hot water

Post-bake Dip:
1 stick melted butter



1) Preheat oven to 500.  Dissolve yeast in warm water.  Add sugar, salt and flour and mix until combined.  Knead just enough until dough forms.

2) Let dough rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 45-60 minutes.

3) Cut dough in half and separate each half into 8-10 equal pieces.

4) Roll each piece into a long rope and form into a pretzel shape.  Dip in pre-bake solution briefly then place on a parchment lined (or greased) cookie sheet.  Sprinkle with pretzel salt.

5) Bake at 500 degrees for 7 minutes or until golden brown.

6) Remove from oven and dip face down into melted butter.  Let cool on wire rack.
 

And there you have it... almost authentic Amish soft pretzels!  Eat them while they're hot... they won't last long.... well, at least not in my kitchen. 

They're great by themselves or you might want to try them with a spicy mustard and cold beer if you're feeling a little bit Bavarian.  My wife once made an amazing Guinness mustard that would pair perfect here. 

I might just have to try and pry that recipe away from her.

 

           

 

 

 

 

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The bread makers secret ingredient

Last week I really got the itch for baking something but wasn't sure what I wanted to make. I was googling some bread recipes and I found one that had the following ingredient

1 teaspoon diastatic malted barley powder (optional)

Bells went off in my head... diastatic was a term I was familiar with from my beer brewing... and malted barley, well... duh.  I wondered if the dry malt extract I used to make yeast starters would be the same powder they were talking about here.I headed over to my favorite beer brewing forum and started my research.

It turns out they are not the same. The malt extract is made after the mashing process, the wort is reduced and evaporated and turned into powder. With the malted barley powder, the malted barley is ground into powder BEFORE mashing. Which means... it contains the same enzymes that convert the starches into sugars in your mash.

What does this mean for bread? Used in small quantities it will lead to a sweeter, more flavorful loaf. The crust will have a gorgeous brown color due to the carmelization of the sugars and for some reason it helps improve the shelf life of the bread.

After all my research I ran out to buy some, but it turns out that most supermarkets don't carry it. You get some wonderfully blank stares when you ask where the diastatic malted barley powder is. So I turned to the internet. Amazon had something that could have been it... but it was four 20 ounce bags. Considering I would only use a teaspoon at a time, I thought five pounds would be a little much. Although I did get a chuckle from reading some of the reviews where people tried to use the powder as flour and ended up with a goopy mess.

I ended up at
King Arthur Flour where I could buy a one pound bag. Shipping was as much as the powder but I figured a pound would last me a year or two so I wasn't too concerned. It arrived Saturday and I was excited to bake with it. I was too busy on Sunday to bake so I figured if I started as soon as I got home on Monday (4pm) I could have it ready by 7 or so.

The recipe:

Ethereal air bread II

2 tablespoons instant yeast
1 teaspoon diastatic malt powder
7 to 8 cups King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour
1 tablespoon salt
2 cups skim milk
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup honey
2 large egg whites, lightly beaten

Mix together the yeast, malt, 7 cups flour, and salt in a large bowl. Pour the milk, oil, and honey into the dry ingredients, along with the egg whites. Turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead, adding flour as necessary, until a soft, smooth ball forms. Place in an oiled bowl, cover and let rise until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.

Punch the dough down and divide it in half. Shape each piece into a thick rectangle, then roll each piece into a log, starting with a long edge; place in two greased 8 1/2" x 4 1/2" loaf pans. Cover them and let rise for 30 to 45 minutes, or until the loaves have crowned 1"over the top of the pans.

Bake the loaves in a preheated 375°F oven for 35 to 45 minutes, or until well-browned.


Knowing I was up against the clock I started measuring everything as soon as I walked in the door. I used my stand mixer to knead the bread and got the dough covered and ready to rise in no time. Then it occured to me that I didn't use very much yeast for two loaves. I didn't have instant yeast so I had hydrated some quick rise and used that. However after re-reading the recipe I saw that it called for two TABLESPOONS of instant yeast, not two TEASPOONS. Oops. Oh well, the dough was made. I figured I'd let it rise and see how it went.

An hour and a half later, not much of anything happened. I hydrated another packet of yeast and attempted to add it to my non-risen dough. Yeah, that was a mess. About the time my hands were caked with a doughy, yeasty mess I realized I needed a bit more flour to soak up the little bit of water that had hydrated the yeast. Thankfully my wife was able to help me with the flour and after about 10 minutes of stubborn kneading it was back in dough form. I covered it again and let it sit for an hour. This time it had risen so much that it had pushed the lid off the bowl. Good sign. I rolled it out and got it into the loaf pans for another rise.

By this point we had already eaten dinner.

The loaves looked great after the second rise (third rise?) and into the oven they went. Nothing beats the smell of baking bread. At 9pm they came out of the oven and they looked wonderful. They tasted even better. I must say that it's probably some of the best bread I've ever made... despite the challenges. I plan on making this frequently! 

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Roasted Garlic

We have a fancy little terracotta garlic roaster that we seem to use about once every never.  We love garlic and making roasted garlic couldn't be simpler so you'd think it would get used more often.  But the problem with our roaster is that it's not very big and almost impossible to roast more than one head of garlic at a time.  So the garlic roaster has been replaced by a left over pie-crust tin.

The obvious question here is, 'why hold on to a garlic roaster that we will probably never use?'  We keep it because it serves as a beacon.  A sign.  When we are rummaging through our cramped cabinets looking for a rolling pin, we will occasionally see Mr. Terracotta hiding behind the waffle maker shouting "Don't forget that you love roasted garlic!".  And to be honest, in our normal busy day to day, we really don't think about garlic that much... so it is a welcome reminder. 

Roasting garlic is inexpensive, easy, makes the house smell great and above all else... tastes fantastic.  The roasting process removes the bite that fresh garlic has and leaves almost a nutty flavor and a smooth texture.  All you need from the store is a loaf of fresh bread and a few heads of garlic.  When selecting your garlic avoid heads where you can see cloves that have started to go bad.  You will see black or dark areas under the papery skin that will indicate this.  A quick look at the bottom will ensure you have fresh garlic to roast.

Preheat your oven to 400.  Remove as much of the paper from the garlic that you can while leaving enough to let the head maintain its form.  I normally cut about the top 1/4 off the head to get good exposure to the garlic cloves.  Put the heads of garlic in a baking dish or on a cookie sheet (I use an old pie-crust tin) and drizzle the tops with olive oil and add a little black pepper and sea-salt.  Adding about 1/4 cup of water to the dish will help keep them from sticking and from drying out.  Cover with a little foil and bake for 45-60 minutes. 

When they are done roasting let rest until they are cool enough to handle.  The roasted garlic should just pop out of the head with a little squeeze.  Put two or three cloves on a slice of fresh bread and break up and spread with a fork.  Sprinkle a pinch of sea-salt on top and enjoy!   Nothing better.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Cuppa Joe

I think if I had to put the blame for my neurosis squarely on one person's shoulders it would have to be my sister.  My sister and her damned espresso.  After living throughout Europe for many years she developed a fond affection for her simple espresso maker.  It wasn't much more than an Art Deco-esque hunk of metal that reminded me of a Dalek.  After making her espresso on the stovetop she would froth the milk manually in a small container. 

Way too rudimentary for her high-tech brother. 

And thus the world's easiest Christmas present idea was dropped in my lap.  I'd get her a fancy espresso machine with all the bells and whistles and brass and steam vents and all the latest technology for making a high-tech cup of coffee.  But alas... she wanted to stick with the dark ages Dalek.

"Fine", I thought, "If I can't make your coffee maker better, I'll make your coffee better." 

And I took my first step down the Hard Way road. 

After considerable research I had located a relatively inexpensive coffee roaster and a good source for raw beans.  I purchased the roaster with a few pounds beans from random places around the globe and was good to go for Christmas.  It was a big hit on Christmas day and after all my research I think I was more excited for her to try it than she was.  She eventually got around to roasting some beans and the coffee was delicious.  It's amazing the difference fresh coffee makes. 

A few weeks later I purchased a roaster for myself.  It was larger and programmable and more high-tech which suited me just fine.  I found a great little coffee shop online that was run by a really nice couple who always had time to answer my questions and always included a personal note in every order.  I was ready to hone my skills.

Roasting coffee is actually about as easy as it gets.  Once you have your roaster programmed the way you like you really just have to measure your beans and let the roaster do the work.  The beans will smoke a lot during the roast so you'll want to be outside.  Ambient temperature has a pretty significant impact on your roast so keep an eye on it.  Warm weather will speed the roast up considerably and conversely, cold weather will slow things down.  Beans can go from a mid roast to a dark roast quickly so paying attention to color is important.  After a few tries you'll know just when to start the cooling process to halt the roast and get your beans just the way you like them.  The entire roasting process takes about 8-12 minutes plus about 5 minutes for cooling the beans.  Set up to clean up is about 20 minutes total... yielding about a cup of roasted beans or enough for two pots of fresh coffee.

I've enjoyed coffee from all over the world... heirloom beans from Yemen and coffee grown on the side of an extinct volcano in Australia.  Although when I buy in bulk it's always Kenyan AA.  Large beans that hold up great to a darker roast... and only $6-$8 a pound.  Last year I was lucky enough to find a sale on estate grown Kona and enjoyed fine coffee all winter long.

I share a lot of the coffee I roast and without fault the same thing happens when I give someone beans for the first time.  They inevitably ask "How do I prepare it?" as if I had just handed them a grass fed Kobe tenderloin.  It's coffee.  Make it like you always make coffee.  The only difference between my coffee and your coffee is that mine is freshly roasted (well... and the beans single origin).  Roasted coffee will start to go stale within a weeks time and within 24 hours once ground.  So don't ration it and don't save it for a special occasion.  Just enjoy it... fresh.  I'll roast more.

Sadly, cold weather is here which limits how much I can roast outside.  But the silver lining is that it's getting into prime beer brewing weather.  But that's a story for another day.

For more information on coffee brewing and purchasing equipment and beans online, please visit The Captains Coffee or Sweet Marias.  I've found both to be excellent resources/retailers.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Food the hard way

I'm not sure if it started with beer brewing or roasting coffee but somewhere along the way I developed an unhealthy penchant for doing things the hard way... frequently just to see if I could actually do it.  While making pasta from scratch with my three year old (she makes pasta with her play-doh so this was a logical progression in my brain) it occured to me that with all the crazy things I try, I should probably be cataloging my cooking adventures in some fashion.  So this is for me, but please feel free to tag along.  Perhaps we'll both learn something along the way.

I'm no chef... in fact I learned how to section a rabbit from youtube.  Nor am I a food snob... Cup Noodles are my guilty pleasure. 

But I am a big fan of the process

Many years ago I was asked why I brewed my own beer and roasted my own coffee, my response still rings true today and probably gives a glimpse into why I like to cook food - the hard way.

I roast my own coffee beans... not because it's so much better and cheaper (although it is) but because there are so many things in between raw beans and a cup of coffee that you just don't experience when you walk into Starbucks. The same goes with brewing beer... you get a great sense of satifaction after you finish cleaning up after a day of brewing, seeing your live beer bubble away as the yeast does it job, after tasting a new beer barely a week in the bottle just to see how it's progressing, and when your batch finally starts to hit it's peak, having a fridge full of great beer that you can recollect with each beer the entire process that you controlled over a period of six weeks. Yeah, I could go buy a case of good beer and enjoy it, but it will never be as good as a beer I remember starting as a handful of dry grain.
I grow my hops, own a cheese cave and even had a rather successful crawfish boil just because it sounded interesting to try.  Thankfully I'm not alone in my madness... my wife shares my interest in trying new things and whereas I tend to keep to more traditional paths, her curiosity knows no bounds.  We were recently at the Jean George Steakhouse at the Aria in Las Vegas and while my curious palate eyed the Black Truffle and Comte fritters, my wife wanted to know all about the Roasted Bone Marrow with Gremolata.  Grema-what-a??  I was horrified but our server assured us it was the best side on the menu.  I stuck with my fritters but my wife opted for the bone marrow.  It was amazing.  We had more than a few curious looks from the French table next to us but we didn't care, we were enjoying cullinary excellence.  So... like I said earlier, I'm glad she's onboard... I'd certainly miss out on a lot of things without her.

Oh, and we currently have five pounds of marrow bones in the fridge waiting for something to happen.