Unconventional Bread

Unconventional Bread


Alexandr Piatkov



The fortunate idea of preparing a larger batch of traditional sourdough starter


visited me. It has already been successfully implemented more than once, well-

honed, and is thoroughly ready to be shared. Though, of course, with over twenty

years of traditional baking experience, I have never baked bread exactly the same

way as the previous time; some new technique always emerges, and it motivates me,

making me look forward to the next kneading and the next loaf. It never grows

stale, it never turns into routine, and even the texts themselves become somehow

bread-like—well-kneaded and lush, porous and resilient!


I bought an eight-liter, tall enameled pot. Inside, I install a round steaming

rack, its surface sitting about four centimeters from the bottom—this is the

space for water. On this rack, I place three silicone molds, ten centimeters in

diameter and fourteen centimeters in height. I fill these molds two-thirds of the

way with dough, which I prepare in a plastic bucket and transfer into the molds

using a large chef's spoon. The dough is of the exact consistency for this very

spoon, which I dip into a baking soda solution (one teaspoon per glass of water)

to reduce stickiness. I also dip a table knife into the soda solution to scrape

the dough off the spoon. As a final touch, I dip a teaspoon into this same

solution to smooth out the surface of the dough inside the molds.


Into a four-liter plastic bucket, I crumble a piece of sourdough starter, sliced


milliliters of warm whey over it and place the bucket into the pot filled with

fairly hot water; it fits snugly inside but does not touch the water. Then I

cover the bucket with a lid and a cloth to retain the heat. This process of

initial starter fermentation takes me about an hour. When the pieces of starter

swell and float to the top, I mash them and sift about three more spoons of flour

into the bucket, bringing the dough to a kissel-like consistency. Once again, I

heat the water in the pot, place the bucket inside, and cover it with the lid and

cloth. This time, the fermentation process takes about three hours.


To improve the quality of rye bread, malt is used. For my amount of dough, made

from roughly two nine-hundred-gram packets of rye flour, I pour three hundred

milliliters of hot whey over a teaspoon of rye malt and let it steep in a jar

under a cloth until it cools down.


For the unconventional dough, I prepare Tangzhong. I take six hundred milliliters

of whey, pour it into a saucepan with a long plastic handle, sift and very

thoroughly stir in about three tablespoons of rye flour, and then heat it over

low heat. I stir continuously until a noticeable resistance is felt in the

mixture. At that moment, I lift the saucepan off the fire and continue stirring,

holding it at a distance above the burner. When the substance in the saucepan

turns into a smooth, glossy, thick mass, I turn off the burner and stir this

Oriental invention a little longer, allowing it to cool completely and even

keeping it in the refrigerator for a bit, though I later take it out and bring it

back to room temperature.


When the starter in the bucket foams up, turning into a beautiful, lush,

convincing cap, the Tangzhong is poured into it. The saucepan is rinsed with the

steeped malt, which is also sent into the bucket. A couple of eggs can be added

there too. Everything is mixed until smooth, and enough flour is sifted into the

bucket so that after a rough, preliminary mixing, the dough can be gathered into

a cone. This preliminary batch should rest for about half an hour to allow the

gluten to swell. Afterward, I take a cordless drill and develop the gluten for

about half an hour, mixing the dough with a mixer dough hook. At first, it climbs

up the hook, so you can either reverse the rotation or hold back the wrapping

spiral of dough with a table knife. The process requires some effort, but such

elasticity can never be achieved by hand; for manual kneading, the dough is too

wet. After mixing, the cone of dough turns into a uniform, bumpy mass where

internal cohesion significantly exceeds external stickiness—just as it should be.

We close the bucket with a lid, set it like a water bath into the pot with

moderately hot water, cover it with a cloth, and wait two to three hours for the

volume to double. Then we punch it down with a paddle or the drill a couple more

times. This takes the whole day, and finally, we transfer the dough into the

silicone molds (no need to grease them). We place the molds with the dough into

the steaming pot, warm up the water, and let the dough rise under the lid and

cloth to the rims of the molds. Then we turn on low heat and wait for the boiling

to begin. This steaming process takes about six hours. After four hours, you can

quickly pour a liter of boiling water into the pot by slightly shifting the lid

and continue the process up to six or seven hours. Then let the bread cool for

another hour and remove it onto a wire rack, simply turning the silicone molds

inside out like stockings.


The result is regular bread, just like from an oven, but being steamed, it is not

exposed to high temperatures. I make it once a week, yielding three loaves of 950

grams each. White bread and raisin cake are prepared in exactly the same way. I

no longer knead dough by hand and no longer bake it in the oven; I cook only

Unconventional Bread!


However, everything works out on water and without eggs too, albeit in a more

ascetic way. Even the raisin cake made without sugar is, oddly enough, quite

edible.


P.S. Although I continue to mix the dough using a drill with blender and mixer

attachments, I have nevertheless brought back the manual rolling operation to

develop the gluten. For now, it finds no adequate mechanical substitute in home

baking for the quantity of bread I produce.


P.P.S. The bread rises quite strongly, even the rye one, and this needs to be

regulated at all stages, starting from the initial sponge preparation. It is

important to wait patiently for it to begin bubbling intensely, and only after

that proceed to adding a small portion of flour, which will not significantly

alter the current acidity of the fermenting batch. Gradually, while stirring and

adding the next portion, it must be brought to the state of a large-bubbled,

mucous, stretchy mass that possesses internal connectedness and slides off a

metal spoon or knife. This can be achieved by maintaining the correct temperature

over a sufficient duration of the process. Only when you have a sufficient amount

of sponge of such quality should you knead the dough with the full amount of

flour. During this time, the gluten will swell, and the dough will not stick to

either your hands or the board on which it needs to be worked. This can be done

by simply rolling and folding it repeatedly. After two rises of the dough, the

loaves can be shaped and left to proof; then the height and porosity of the bread

will be noticeably greater. However, this process using one's own wild yeast

starter can take about 16 hours from activating the starter to the end of baking.


I wish good luck to everyone who watches their diet, weight, and health! Some

questions on this topic are discussed in my other texts. Do me the honor, you are

warmly invited!




PUBLICATION DETAILS & CREDITS
Author: Alexandr Piatkov
Original Title: Нетрадиционный хлеб (2019)
Source Text: proza.ru/avtor/alexanderan
English Translation by: AI Collaborator (Human-Centric Literary Translation)
Copyright: © Alexandr Piatkov, 2019
Publication Certificate: №219050600165