Whole Wheat Flour

This bread can be used for anything that you’d make with white bread, including buns, rolls, and toast. You can use either traditional “red” whole wheat flour or the new “white” whole wheat that is lighter in color and slightly less bitter. If you choose the honey or agave nectar option in this recipe, you’ll need more flour than if you use sugar, probably an extra 3 1/2 to 7 tablespoons (1 to 2 oz). Assess the texture as you mix and adjust accordingly.

In this formula, the amounts of water and yeast for pizza dough appear after the amounts for bread dough. Note that unlike in the 50% whole grain version opposite, the sugar and oil aren’t optional; they’re definitely needed to counteract the bitter tones of the whole wheat flour and to soften the bran. If you’d like to make a multigrain version, see the variation below.

The main difference between the bread and pizza dough is the amount of hydration and the amount of yeast; pizza dough has less water and less yeast than the bread. This formula offers both options, with the amounts of water and yeast for pizza dough appearing after the amounts for bread dough. The sugar and oil are optional, but highly recommended to counteract the bitter tones of the whole wheat flour and to soften the bran

Pain au levain, which is the French term for naturally leavened bread, is generally considered to be the gold standard for wild yeast breads, though opinions do vary widely—and are strongly held. People from San Francisco, Portland, New York, Boston, anywhere in Germany (where it is called Sauerteig), and many other cities and regions may dispute the superiority of the French version. In fact, there isn’t one single version of pain au levain; it’s really a category of bread, usually consisting primarily of white flour, supplemented with a small amount of whole wheat flour, rye flour, or a multigrain flour. To complicate matters further, some “authentic” French levains are made with all-natural starter, while others use a combination of starter and commercial yeast (usually just a small amount). In this book, I use the term pain au levain to indicate breads that are naturally leavened, either with or without the addition of commercial yeast, using anywhere from 5 to 20 percent whole grain flour. In the process of developing the formulas for Peter Reinhart’s Whole Grain Breads, I discovered a method of mixing natural starters with commercial yeast that seems to work especially well for home baking and small batches. By increasing the amount of starter and commercial yeast in the final dough, it’s possible to make breads with all of the flavor development of the great levains, but with a shortened proofing stage at the end. As with most of the breads in this book, the cold, overnight fermentation method also extends the life of the dough to at least 3 days, with flavors that are even more developed on the third day than on the first. Although this unconventional recipe is unlike anything you’ll find in other books, it follows and fulfills the flavor rule (that is, flavor rules!). As with the San Francisco sourdough (page 64), you can make this bread leavened only with natural starter (the “purist” method), or you can add instant yeast to the final dough (the mixed method). If you want to use the “purist” method and bake the bread on the same day as you mix the dough, don’t refrigerate the final dough; just let it rest at room temperature for about 4 hours, or until it doubles in size. Then, shape and proof it at room temperature for about 1 1/2 to 2 hours, and bake as described below.

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.

Whole wheat flour may seem to be the choice of health nuts or diet-conscious shoppers looking for whole grains, neither of which suggests typical Southern bread. This is true for more modern breads, but Antebellum and Colonial grains were not as processed as modern flour is and were closer to what we now consider whole wheat flour. This homey bread also uses honey, a natural sweetener, instead of refined white sugar. I do, however, suggest using a modern fat, canola oil, over bacon fat (but now that I think of it, bacon fat sure sounds good!).

Steaming bread in the slow cooker is a terrific, hassle-free way to bake bread of all kinds. Traditionally, the batter for this brown bread was poured into coffee cans and placed in deep kettles filled with water, then hung for hours over the fire to steam. Serve it with New England Baked Beans (opposite page) or toasted for breakfast with cream cheese.

If you’ve never had whole wheat puff pastry before, you’re in for a treat. While many people love the taste of the buttery layers of traditional puff pastry, adding whole wheat flour gives it a hearty, nutty taste that I find especially appealing when paired with apples. I also reason that the whole wheat balances out what some might consider an injudicious amount of butter in the dough. This is a quick puff pastry, adapted from a technique I learned from Linda Zagula, that takes a fraction of the time and work required to make the traditional kind. It still takes six turns to roll it out, but you do the first four all at once, then the last two later. And the pastry recipe makes enough for two tarts, so you can wrap the extra piece and stash it away in the freezer, ready for the next tart.

When you have your own website, you develop a thick skin and come to expect all sorts of questions, including being asked advice about marketing $4,000 keepsake boxes for storing chocolate truffles (“Don’t do it,” I responded) to inquiries about preferred styles and brands of undergarments (that one didn’t get answered). This recipe was a topic in an online forum that I came across, and some fellow remarked, “Why would anyone make their own marshmallows? Or graham crackers?” While I wanted to respond, “Well, why would anyone make a hamburger from scratch? Or a salad?” I thought that not getting to taste this pie himself was punishment enough. Personally, I can’t think of anything more fun than making marshmallows and graham crackers, but if you’d prefer to take a few shortcuts, I’ve offered suggestions in Variation.

I get raves when I make this cheesecake, and I’m sure you will, too.

Bananas are the surprise ingredient in these yummy, coconutty treats. Substitute cashews or pecans for the walnuts for some great flavor variations.

Chocolate and raspberry are a match made in heaven. Sweet and decadent, these bars are perfect with coffee or espresso.

These irresistible cookies are so versatile. For something special, fill them with peanut butter and juice-sweetened jam to make a cookie sandwich. Dip half the sandwich in chocolate ganache and place on waxed paper–lined baking sheets to firm up the chocolate. There’s only one word for this—outrageous.

The filling for these crêpes is made with mirin, a Japanese cooking wine made from sweet brown rice. You can find it at health food stores, Asian food stores, and possibly your local supermarket. This is a fabulous vegan dish, ideal for brunch.

These muffins are loaded with good-for-you veggies, fruits, and seeds—and they’re vegan, too. The silken tofu replaces the dairy and eggs, and adds moistness and protein for a tasty breakfast or afternoon snack.

Chock full of whole grains, flaxseeds, and dried fruit, these delicious muffins are a tasty way to add fiber to your diet. Soaking the raisins and bran in the liquid ingredients helps keep the muffins moist.

I keep a batch of these low-fat muffins in my freezer at all times. They stand in as cupcakes when my daughter, Sofia, asks, “What’s for dessert?” For a quick and easy low-fat frosting, spread a little Greek-style yogurt over the top, drizzle with agave nectar, and add a sprinkle of cinnamon. Perfect!

Cranberry and orange is a classic, tangy flavor combination. Stock up and freeze fresh cranberries when in season for baking throughout the year. For a sweet and chewy alternative, try fruit-sweetened dried cranberries, which are similar to raisins.

Cornbread is one of those foods people get mighty opinionated about, as in “Nobody makes cornbread as good as my (momma, grammy, Uncle Phoebus, just fill in the blank).” Not only that, but once someone gets a beloved piece of that cornbread in their hands, well, as one writer said, “If you try to take my cornbread, there will be consequences and repercussions.” I think of cornbread a bit like barbecue: Just about every region of the country has its variation, which, as if ordained from above, is simply the best. Cornbread, cornpone, jonnycakes, hush puppies—the names and approaches differ, but not the devotion. My version is California-style, as in how do we keep all of that awesome taste while using healthier ingredients? Using some spelt flour helps, as does using just a bit of organic maple syrup as a sweetener and extra-virgin olive oil in place of butter. The lemon zest allowed me to put the word “beyond” into the title of this recipe. If you’ll allow me to play yenta, I’d match the cornbread with the Rockin’ Black Bean Soup (page 71). They’re a very happy couple.

Pretty much everyone has a neighbor or friend (kind of a June Cleaver type) who loves to cook and also somehow manages to be a CEO and raise three Rhodes scholars while spending three hours a day (minimum) in the kitchen. This is the recipe you give that person when she says, “Oh, I’d so like to make something for you.” This is a labor of love, and while not quite as physically intensive as, say, coal mining, it takes a bit of effort. But it’s worth it, because the recipe is big enough to be made in ramekins so it can serve as six little meals, and it stores well, too.