The measure of my tastes (March 2015) - Our Daily Bread

There is nothing quite like producing something from practically nothing.  Water, some flour, a tiny amount of yeast and another tiny amount of salt - together with heat and time - results in bread. Once upon a time it was thought that making bread also involved quite a bit of energy - and perhaps salt from the physical exertion supposedly required in the process of kneading the dough.


This simple formula has yielded sustenance for humankind for almost as far back in time, as there were humans on the planet. Yet, this "simple" formula results in an infinite variation in the results - from rock hard objects that could be used as missiles, to soft fluffy ethereal masterpieces of the baker's art.

Although tons of literature exist on its production - from highly technical and modern approaches which address "production" quantities of hundreds if not thousands of loaves, to those which meticulously instruct the solitary home baker towards success in producing one edible loaf at a time - breadmaking holds just as many secrets.

One such secret, revealed only recently in the past decade or so, as the "stretch and fold" technique, eliminates the need to knead - and the corresponding unintended addition of salt to the bread.  There continue to be many many more secrets in breadmaking.  The "secret handshake" appears to be in the simple statement which often appears in some form of the statement that you will need to "develop a feel" for the dough as it proceeds through the various and possibly multiple stages of development from basic ingredients until the mass enters the hot oven.  Apparently language, science and other means of communication have not yet developed sufficiently to convey this elusive concept of "feel" in the plethora of books on bread.  This leaves the novice with the task of trying, and possibly failing, multiple times while continuing to decipher the mysteries of breadsmithing and hopefully persevering sufficiently to eventually get to an "ah-hah" moment where the outcome is possibly good enough to share with family or friends.

Using the same ingredients, measured with exactness, almost always results in a different outcome. Until the novice learns that time is an ingredient.  So is temperature.  These, at least, are quantifiable and measurable.  And as long as specifications for time and temperature are included in the recipe, it may seem that the secrets have all been revealed.  Not so.

The humidity, variations in temperature from one corner of the kitchen to another corner, seem to contribute to the outcome.  So does the variation in each batch of flour from each producer.  These variations are what convinces most would-be bread bakers to head to the nearest bakery or supermarket.

In truth, however, by the time you notice the tiny variances that affect each outcome, your bread is eminently edible and probably satisfyingly delicious.  The real secret to making bread is that you can not produce exactly the same loaf every time you bake.  No one can.  Not even the machines that make bread for the masses.  Next time you buy a loaf of bread, consider this.  Compare any two loaves which are wrapped in their clinically pristine plastic wrappers and see if you can identify the differences between them.