NaBloPoMo Post #14 - Breaded

I grew up eating Roman Meal bread. It was brown and sort of squishy, but nothing like the airy pillows of Wonder Bread many of my friends ate. My friend Isabelle was the exception, as her mother was French and they had to-die-for bread whenever I visited, along with pain au chocolate and other wonderful discoveries. They also introduced me to mustard that wasn't bright yellow. French's, it turns out, isn't all that French.

When she stayed with my dad and I while I was visiting him in London, my Granny Stella's breakfasts fascinated me. She would start with toast with jam and then transition from sweet to savory, next having toast with Marmite. It seems that Marmite is like cilantro - one either loves it with almost religious fervor or abhorrs it. It may also be genetic. I dig Marmite.

Did you know the strain of yeast in the famous San Francisco sourdough bread is local to that area - "lactobacillus san francisco"? When the Boudin bakery opened a branch in Sacramento, the starter received a police escort from the Bay. That starter has been alive and burping for over 80 years, I do believe.

When we win the lottery, I will stock at least six different flours in the house at all times - AP (unbleached), whole wheat, bread, self-rising, and pastry/cake (low-protein). I'll also rotate in specialty flours as needed. One of my goals is to always be within a few hours of a really, really good loaf of home-made bread. The No-Knead Bread Recipe first published in the NY Times and Cook's Illustrated's version, Almost No-Knead Bread, both fascinate me with their alchemy of gluten production over time in a very moist sponge, little yeasty beasties happily burping away as the strands of gluten form, align, and relax into the perfect mesh to contain all that CO2. The crust has just the right crunch, and the interior is craggy and chewy as if someone spent a lot if time massaging that dough into submission.

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