Whole Wheat Flour

If you prefer, you can bake these muffins in a standard muffin tin; spoon 1/4 cup batter into each cup.

To store, wrap the loaf tightly in plastic; refrigerate for up to 1 week, or freeze for up to 2 months.

There are some terrific baking books that focus on 100 percent whole-grain bread, and this style of bread has a fanatically loyal, and growing, following. I began my bread journey thirty years ago as a devotee of organic whole-grain bread, mainly for philosophical and health reasons. Though I’ve branched out to explore the entire bread kingdom and its infinite permutations, I still have a soft spot for what we used to call “pure bread.” The challenge a baker faces in making such breads is extracting the best of the grain flavor while overcoming some of the grassy and bitter tones of the bran and germ. Another challenge is attaining a crumb network that opens up both flavor and texture. The best way to evoke flavor, as we show in many of the formulas, is to give the enzymes enough time to break out sugars trapped in the starches. One way to do this when working with whole grains is to use a large amount of pre-ferment, such as a poolish or soaker. In this version, we will use both methods. A soaker is especially effective when coarse grains are part of the formula, and it also leaves open the option of substituting other grains, such as corn or oats, in place of the wheat to vary the texture of the finished loaf. Using a poolish to extend fermentation time contributes more flavor by developing acidity, balancing out the grassy flavor of the bran and germ in the process.

The most famous bread baker in the world is probably Lionel Poilâne, whose boulangerie in Paris’s Latin Quarter makes only a few products. The most famous is a round, two-kilo, naturally fermented (wild-yeast) country bread that he calls a miche but that everyone else calls pain Poilâne. His system (described on pages 18–19) is simple—each baker, Poilâne’s personally trained apprentice, is responsible from start to finish for his loaves. This entails mixing and baking as well as stacking his own firewood and stoking his own fire. Poilâne teaches his apprentices to bake by feel as much as by formula, so there is no thermostat in the oven. The baker must determine when the oven is ready by holding his hand in the oven or tossing in a piece of paper to see how long it takes to turn to parchment and then burn. Poilâne critiques a loaf from each batch daily to keep abreast of the work of his men, since there are nearly twenty bakers in his stable, most working outside of Paris at his manufacture in Bièvres. The key to the Poilâne method is comprehending the craftsmanship of hand work, including understanding the fermentation process and commitment to the finest ingredients. Poilâne’s flour is organically grown and is sifted to a partial whole wheat, a 90 to 95 percent extraction rate (this means that much, but not all, of the bran is still in the flour). The finished bread is somewhat dense and very chewy, its flavors changing in the mouth with each chew, and it keeps for about a week at room temperature. Bread pilgrims come from all over the world to buy a Poilâne loaf (this includes those who visit Lionel’s brother Max, who makes similar loaves at his own bakeries scattered around Paris). When I visited Boulangerie Poilâne on rue du Cherche-Midi, I noticed some very attractive gift boxes, complete with cutting board and knife. Apparently, many visitors buy these and have them shipped to family and friends. It speaks volumes that one man can become so iconic because of a commitment to his craft. Of course, it’s fitting that in France this craft is bread baking. The following version of the Poilâne-style miche utilizes a long fermentation and a three-build system (the barm counts as the first build). It makes creative use of common kitchen bowls to replicate the difficult to find banneton proofing baskets of Poilâne’s operation. As always with baking, necessity is the mother of invention, and a home kitchen can always be modified to imitate, on a small scale, a commercial bakery.

Bernard Ganachaud, in the early 1960s, made the poolish baguette the first legitimate alternative to the 60-2-2 baguette of the Parisian masses. When he retired thirty years later, his la flûte Gana was a licensed commodity, and bakers who paid for the right to make it were allowed to charge an extra franc above the government-controlled price. In the Coupe du Monde bread competition, the poolish baguette is now the standard that all countries must replicate. In my visits to the boulangeries of Paris, the poolish baguette made at the original Ganachaud Boulangerie was the second best baguette I ever had (the first being the pain à l’ancienne of Philippe Gosselin). Ganachaud has a special medium-extraction flour (with his name prominently displayed on the bags, naturally) from which he makes his baguettes, and there isn’t any flour quite like it in America. It is slightly higher in ash content and bran than regular bread flour, more like clear flour (whole-wheat flour that has been sifted only once instead of the usual twice to remove the bran and germ). The closest I’ve come to replicating that flour is described below and it makes a wonderful baguette, perhaps as good as can be done outside of the magical environment of Paris and without true Ganachaud-endorsed flour. Some people prefer it to the Gosselin baguette. See what you think.

This is the perfect dough for creative shaping, and the one used throughout France for many types of breads sold under various local names. The dough is similar to regular French baguette dough, but it includes a small percentage of whole grain, either whole wheat, pumpernickel-grind or white rye, or cornmeal. This additional grain gives the bread more character and grain flavor, and contributes to the brownish-gold, country-style crust that distinguishes it from white flour French bread. Most important, this is the dough, as I learned it from Professor Raymond Calvel, that opened my thinking to the use of large percentages of pre-ferment. On pages 72–79 you will see a number of shapes you can make from this dough. The most famous are the fendu, épi, couronne, and auvergnat. There are many others that you may also have seen. As always, though, the first emphasis must be on the quality of the dough. There is nothing more disappointing to a bread lover than to see a lot of work go into a shaping technique for a dough that does not deliver world-class flavor and texture. This particular dough never disappoints.

Here, whole-wheat flour accounts for 33 percent of the total flour, which is the most popular formula for making light wheat bread. The result is a loaf similar to the soft wheat breads purchased off the shelves. Of course, this is a poor compromise for whole-grain purists, which is why I am also including a bread formula with 100 percent whole wheat (page 270).. But there are times when you just want a tasty, soft, but not altogether white sandwich bread, and this versatile loaf fits the bill.

Get back to basics, and take pleasure in baking your own nourishing bread.

This is a very simple bread to make either at the campsite or at home. it requires no kneading, and is baked in a Dutch oven or clay baker. This bread’s flavor is developed through extended fermentation.

Though pita bread is made throughout the Middle East, we have come to identify it with Greece. When baking, it puffs up like a small balloon and then deflates when removed from the oven. This version has a bit of whole-wheat flour in it for extra nuttiness and added flavor. Make a batch or two ahead and freeze some to use later; these pita reheat easily. Try these filled with strips of roasted Mustard and Lemon Chicken (page 92) and topped with a dollop of Greek yogurt.

Tim Decker and his wife, Crystal, are the owners of Bennett valley Bakery in Sonoma County. A former apprentice of Peter Reinhart’s, Tim makes artisan breads with a beautifully browned crust by baking them in a wood-fired oven at unusually high temperatures. You can also make this bread successfully in a conventional oven, with the heat as high as it will go.