Rye Flour

Rich, dark, and sweet, honey cake was originally a kind of pound cake made by people who could not afford refined sugar or flour (many old honey cake recipes use rye flour, not exactly what we think of as dessert). This is a light, more modern (at least twentieth-century) recipe, quite succulent. Some people stir raisins (about 1/2 cup) and/or chopped almonds or walnuts (also about 1/2 cup) into the batter just before baking. Others cut the loaves in half after baking and add a layer of jam, then reassemble. Personally, I like my honey cake plain.

Salt that is everywhere is nowhere. Burying food in layers of salted homogeneity gives you nothing so much as a lot of salt. Yes, salt can be used to subjugate other flavors, bending them to an evil imperial will, enslaving them to the offensive goal of not offending anyone. The dark lords of homogenous salting hold cocktail parties where they try to keep everybody in the usual safe conversational ruts—children, sprinkler systems, geopolitics—while you, a rebel with your feathered hairdo or cinnamon buns attached to the sides of your head, try to bring light, freedom, and individual expression to the sensory galaxy. Allow your ingredients to converse, each reflecting upon what it has to say before sharing with the others. Heavily salted breads and presalted butter have possibly done more than any other two foods to reduce the net amount of mirth and pleasure experienced on earth. Unsalt them, and then set them free with your salt. A small amount of salt can be added to round out the bread’s toasty flavors without detracting from the salt’s romp through fields of buttered grain.

There are many ways to make a starter, some more effective than others. You’ll find numerous systems online, along with loads of information, misinformation, and folklore. Many people obsess over their starters, coddling them like newborn infants, keeping them on a regular feeding cycle, and fretting when the starter doesn’t bubble up the way they think it should. Because there are many ways to create a starter, let’s start by focusing on what a starter is and how it works. The most common misperception about wild yeast or sourdough starters is that the wild yeast is what causes the sour flavor. Within the dough, there’s an interesting microbial drama taking place. Wild yeast is living side by side with various strains of bacteria, and it’s the bacteria that cause the sour flavors as they metabolize sugars and convert them into lactic acid or acetic acid. Different strains of bacteria create different flavors and aromas, which explains why breads made in different parts of the world may have different flavors even if they’re made using the same formula. From a functional standpoint, the role of the yeast is to leaven and slightly acidify the bread by producing carbon dioxide and ethyl alcohol, while the role of the bacteria is to acidify and flavor the dough and, to a lesser degree, create some carbon dioxide. This can be viewed as a symbiotic relationship, since the organisms harmoniously share the same environment and food source, and each supplements the work of the other. In a best-case scenario, the acidifying work of the bacteria lowers the pH of the dough sufficiently to create an ideal environment for the growth of the desired strains of wild yeast. Of all the mysteries of bread making, this symbiotic relationship is perhaps the most fascinating. As the pH lowers to more acidic levels, commercial yeast doesn’t survive, but wild yeast does. It all gets very complex, but fortunately this complexity manifests itself in the final flavor, as it also does in great cheeses and fine wines. If you feel intimidated by making or using a sourdough starter, realize that it’s simply a medium in which the microorganisms can live and grow in order to create their important by-products: alcohol, carbon dioxide, and acids. The job of the baker is to build the starter to a size that’s capable of raising the dough. Combining the delayed fermentation method used in this book with the complexity that a wild yeast starter brings to the dough allows us to create extremely tasty dough with many layers of flavor—or, as one of my students calls it, “Bread to the max!” First Stage: The Seed Culture, This starter comes together in two stages: first, you’ll create the seed culture, then you’ll convert it to a mother starter. In the first stage, you aren’t making the starter that actually goes into your dough; you’re making a starter (the seed) that makes another starter (the mother), from which you’ll make your final dough. There are many ways to make a seed culture. The simplest is with just flour and water. This does work, but not always on a predictable schedule. I’ve seen methods on the Internet calling for onion skins, wine grapes, plums, potatoes, milk, buttermilk, and yogurt. These can all serve as fuel for the microorganisms, and all of them also work for making a seed culture. But ultimately, a starter (and bread itself) is really about fermented flour. So in this book the goal is to create the conditions in which the appropriate organisms can grow and thrive so that they can create great-tasting bread. The following method produces a versatile starter that can be used to make 100 percent sourdough breads as well as mixed-method breads (breads leavened with a combination of wild yeast starter and commercial yeast). However, if you already have a starter or used a different method to make a starter, feel free to use it. The starter...

Okay, I’ll admit it: Although I’m known primarily as a bread guy, I’ve been eating far more crackers than bread lately—probably always have, actually, and it’s a safe bet that I always will. Sure, artisan bread is the sexy sister, but a good cracker is the hardworking Cinderella of baked goods, and I think it’s time to bestow the glass slipper. In fact, I have a feeling that there are many other undeclared cracker freaks out there just waiting for crackers to be validated as a significant player in the exploding American culinary renaissance. A quick look at supermarket shelves shows that the real growth for both crackers and bread is occurring in the whole grain category. Even iconic brands such as Ritz are coming forth with whole grain products. I’ve spent nearly twenty years trying to convince folks to bake bread at home, even tilting at windmills by trying to encourage them to make 100 percent whole grain breads at home, but I’ve encountered far less resistance in urging that same audience to try making their own whole grain crackers. Why the receptivity? It’s probably because crackers are far easier and faster to make than bread (and the dough doesn’t even need to be held overnight in the refrigerator). But I also think there are deeper reasons. Crackers are so versatile, and so easily substituted for chips and other guilt-laden snacks. Whole grain crackers are the perfect, guilt-free snack. Not only do they have a satisfying, toasty flavor, they’re also loaded with dietary fiber, which helps lessen cravings for sweets and reduce mindless eating between meals. When properly made, crackers have a long finish. Eat some now and you’ll still be enjoying the lingering, earthy flavors in 30 minutes. Crackers can be naturally leavened with yeast, like Armenian lavash; be chemically leavened with baking powder or baking soda, like many commercial crackers; or be completely unleavened, like matzo or Triscuits. They’re usually crisp and flaky but don’t have to be. They can be buttery (with real or fake butter), or lean and mean, like saltines and other variations of water crackers. Whole grain crackers, regardless of the leavening method, have one major factor going for them: fiber, lots and lots of fiber. This cracker recipe is easy to make at home, even if you’ve never baked a loaf of bread in your life. It’s a variation of one of the most popular recipes from my previous book, Peter Reinhart’s Whole Grain Breads, and is especially fun to make with kids. I’ve adjusted the recipe so that these crackers, which are unlike any crackers you can buy, are even more crisp than the original. I’m ready to start a home-baked cracker revolution to match the bread revolution of the last fifteen years and hope I can enlist you in the cause.

There are many ways to make rye bread, and every bread lover has a favorite version. But when push comes to shove, the style that sells the most is soft sandwich rye. This version includes the optional use of cocoa powder, which darkens the bread in the style of pumpernickel. Other optional ingredients, whether caraway, minced dried onion, or nigella seeds (also known as black onion seeds), transform this recipe into various regional favorites. Adding orange oil or extract and anise seeds, for example, turns it into a Swedish-style limpa rye bread. You can use various types of rye flour in this recipe. The version most commonly sold is the “white flour” version of rye, with the bran and germ sifted out. But if you look around, you should be able to find stone-ground, whole grain, or dark rye flour, as well as pumpernickel flour. You could even use rye chops or rye meal, which are more coarsely ground, resembling cracked wheat or steel-cut oats. The trade-off is that whole rye flour is more healthful, while light rye yields a softer, lighter loaf. The choice is yours. The molasses is an important flavor component in this bread, but feel free to reduce the amount or replace it with sorghum syrup or golden sugar syrup. Just don’t use blackstrap molasses, which is too strong; look for a product labeled “old-fashioned,” “fancy,” or “unsulfured.”

I enjoy seeds in bread. They add all sorts of valuable nutrients, and they just taste so good. This bread is similar to a classic German Mehrkorn bread, loaded with seeds and just a touch of whole wheat flour (though you can certainly use more whole wheat if you like). I love to make sandwiches with it, especially peanut butter and jelly, to toast it, or to simply eat it by the slice. Take my word for it, it tastes really good. Only the sunflower and pumpkin seeds need to be toasted; the sesame and flaxseeds can go in without toasting. Natural sesame seeds, which are light brown because they still have their hulls, are much more appealing in this bread than white sesame seeds, which have had the hulls polished off. If you’re feeling adventurous, you can use other combinations of seeds. Try adding lightly toasted chopped walnuts or pecans. Because the dough will stiffen overnight in the refrigerator as the seeds slowly absorb moisture, it’s important to have a very soft, supple dough—even a tad sticky—before you put it away for the night.

I first introduced the concept of cold-fermented wet dough in The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. While the idea isn’t new or original, it has blossomed during the past few years into various no-knead, overnight-rise permutations. I now prefer the version in this recipe because it gives the best flavor and also provides the most flexibility for scheduling. The refrigerator provides a 4-day window of baking opportunity, and that’s hard to beat. The beauty of this dough, as others have discovered, is that it can be used in so many ways: for focaccia, ciabatta, mini baguettes, and more. (Because the method for shaping this dough into focaccia is substantially different, it appears as a separate recipe on page 57.) And even though it’s the most hydrated dough in this book, it requires only minimal mixing to achieve the same gluten strength as bakeries obtain by mixing continuously for 20 minutes, due to the stretch and fold technique.

These are especially good with soups containing beets, cabbage, or strong greens.

Moist and slightly crumbly, these scones team especially well with soups made of root vegetables—potatoes, parsnips, and the like.

This simple, wholesome bread is made with stone-ground rye flour. Baked in the convection oven, the crust is chewy and flavorful. It is not as dense a bread as others in this category, therefore it bakes at a slightly higher temperature. This is the bread we baked in the oven of the woodstove when I was growing up on the farm in northern Minnesota. The wood oven creates heat that circulates much like that of a convection oven. I have finally been able to bake bread that closely resembles my childhood favorite!

This is a favorite bread, especially in the Midwest, where many people have Scandinavian roots.

The use of countless aromatics to flavor bread lies at the center of Germany's rich whole grain baking culture. Breads are often prepared with different grains and grinds of flour to achieve distinctively textured loaves. In this 100 percent whole grain loaf, I use spelt for its pleasing mild flavor, but you can use regular whole wheat flour. Yes, this is a thick-crusted loaf, unlike any bread you will find in a U.S. supermarket or pretty much anywhere else, but the inside will be chewy and soft with seeds and spices. Give it a day, and the crust will soften from the humidity in the air. Enjoy this unusual aromatic bread with cheese and cold cuts as a simple supper, or use as a base for a nourishing sandwich. It's also delicious with a bowl of soup. This is an effortless no-knead bread made using an old technique, most recently revived by New York master baker Jim Lahey. I have taught students to make a slow-fermentation bread with minimal yeast for years, albeit in a plain old loaf pan — initially inspired by a recipe by German cookbook author Luise Brüggemann. I credit Lahey with introducing me to the use of a lidded heavy pot and a simple folding technique to get a truly spectacular artisinal bread — no wonder his method has won him cult status. If the lid of your Dutch oven has a plastic knob, be sure to wrap it in aluminum foil so it doesn't melt in the high heat of the oven.

Some dishes are best when they are as plain and simple as possible. Whole fish fried in butter and served with lemon and parsley potatoes: That is simple and tasty!

A little rye flour and a bit of cornmeal give this pizza dough extra flavor°and texture.

A basket full of freshly baked rolls adds a welcoming touch to any holiday table. Combining the crunch of a cracker with the tender yeastiness of bread, these little numbers are especially fun.

Walnuts are commonly paired with whole wheat, but something pretty great happens when you team them up with tangy rye and bits of sweet sautéed onion instead. A batch of these is especially tasty alongside a platter of your favorite cheeses.

This play of bitter, sweet, and crunchy goes beautifully with an aperitif or a cold glass of beer or white wine.