The Lean Dough (Or, quite possibly the easiest bread to make.)

Homemade bread. One of the world’s best examples of perfection in simplicity. It’s a magical process, taking flour, yeast, water, and salt, four ingredients that aren’t that great tasting separately, and transforming them into a product that has nourished mankind since he figured out how to mill grain. Sadly, it has been taken over by bread in a can, or worse, commercial bread that is so soft you’d mistake it for angel food cake if you put in your mouth while wearing a blindfold. Remember when real estate brokers would put bread in the oven to make the home smell like homemade bread? Yeah, me neither, it’s been that long ago. It was so nineties. In fact, I’d dare say that if you did that today, someone would wonder if the house was on fire. The smell would be so foreign to someone because no one makes bread from scratch anymore. And it’s a shame that we’ve come to this, because it couldn’t be simpler. THERE’S JUST FOUR INGREDIENTS!!! That’s it. The other excuse is “I don’t have enough time.” That’s just being lazy. This ratio took 3.5 hours. From assembly to removing from the oven, 3.5 hours. And there’s a lot of downtime when you can be doing other things, like playing Rock Band. So don’t tell me you don’t have time to make this. It is possible, even on the busiest of evenings. Start the bread at 6, it’s done by 9:30. Then you have that wonderful fresh baked bread smell permeating your home to lull you to sleep. The joys of simplicity.

Like I said earlier, there’s only four ingredients: bread flour, water, yeast, and salt. It’s called a lean dough, because there is no added fat (Take that, commercial bakers, with your trans-fats for added shelf life!). Bread flour really is necessary, because it has more gluten than all purpose flour. You’ll need that extra gluten to ensure enough structure and stability, or your bread will turn into an amoeba when you try to shape and form the dough. As for yeast, I prefer instant yeast, because you don’t have to proof it. It goes in with the water, flour, and salt.

And here’s everything. I wasn’t lying to you, just four ingredients. The amount of dough is the same as listed in the book. This makes a good sized ball of dough. For loaves and pizza dough, I would go smaller. And that’s the bonus of having a ratio. You just alter the amounts in proportion BY WEIGHT, NOT VOLUME. Again, having the scale makes everything easy. Add flour, hit tare, add water, hit tare, etc.

Looks lovely, like a cesspool. (Ok, bad simile.) Next, it’s time to mix. Michael says you can use a stand mixer, but he prefers to mix by hand. I’m naturally lazy, so stand mixer with a dough hook it is. And here’s the dough beginning to come together.

The next question is, how long should it go? With my mixer, with this volume of dough, and set somewhere between 2 and 4, it’s about 20 minutes to get enough gluten developed. Also, how do you know if the amount of water is right? For example, I’ve made this dough two other times, and both times, I needed to add flour. This time, no altering was necessary. The only difference I can figure is the weather. It was hot and dry when I made this. The last two times, it was humid. The best advice I can give for this is when you start mixing, wait at least 5 minutes before you start adding flour or water. This will ensure that the flour is fully hydrated and in balance. If your dough is sticking to the bottom of the workbowl, add flour by the tablespoon, and wait about 2 minutes before deciding if you need more. If the dough sounds like sandpaper against the side of the bowl and won’t stay together, it’s too dry, and you’ll need water. I haven’t encountered this problem, so the best advice I can give is to add water by the tablespoon until the desired result is reached. I will add that it’s a good idea to remove the dough from the hook once or twice during the kneading process. The dough hook likes to twist the dough like a rope, so removing it a couple of times will let the dough relax before you knead it some more.

Ok, so how do I know when to stop kneading? Windowpane. Take a small ball of dough, about the size of a golf ball. Stretch it into a thin membrane, and hold it to the light. If it breaks before you can get it paper thin, you don’t have enough gluten, and more kneading is needed. If it looks like the picture below, you can stop. You’ve now got enough gluten to make bread that will have a good crust and enough structure. The picture isn’t the greatest, because I’m trying to hold the membrane in one hand and take a picture with another.

Time to rise. As for shaping, you can roll it on the counter between your hands to get a tight membrane on the top of the ball. I’m terrible at this. I’ve found a simpler way. Gently place both hands on top of the ball of dough. Then quickly turn your hands under the dough, applying gentle pressure to the dough, like your making a cup with your hands, and give the dough a quarter turn. Do this until you see a tight skin form on the dough. Lube the inside of your work bowl (I prefer aerosol spray, because again, I’m lazy), place the dough ball in the work bowl, and lightly lube the dough to keep the skin from drying out. Cover with plastic wrap, and wait.

How long? Well, that depends. If your kitchen is like mine, it takes about an hour. If it’s cold, it will take longer. Remember, this thing is alive, it doesn’t play by the rules. It’s like a temperamental baby. It will rise on its own terms, when it’s damn well ready. The “rise until double in volume” is a good benchmark, but there’s another way to tell. Poke it. If the dough springs back right away, it isn’t ready. As you can see below, there’s a small indent left when I poked it. The first rise is done.

More kneading, this time by hand, but do this gently. All I’m trying to do is remove some of the bigger bubbles and re-distribute the yeast, and move them around so they have more food to eat. We arrive at the first crossroad: what kind of shape do we want? Thin and circular, for a pizza crust. Long and thin for a baguette. Circular and stippled for ciabatta. Many directions to go. For today, we’ll go with the classic boule, or ball. Again, simply shape into a ball, and we’re done. Now’s a good time to preheat the hotbox to 450.

Ok, that’s great, we have a ball of dough. What are we going to cook it in or on? You can cook it on a cookie sheet, a baking stone, or, as we’re doing this time, in a dutch oven. (Here’s that lazy part rearing its head again.) It’s one of the variations listed, and the easiest. Plus the dutch oven absorbs heat, and helps regulate the heat around the bread, producing uniform baking. The dutch oven offers the convenience of steaming the bread when the lid is on. This will ensure the dough gets enough oven spring and keeps the outside from setting too quickly. So the dough goes into the lubed dutch oven, lube the dough, and put on the lid. Rise again. No more touching.

After the second rise, it’s time to bake. Before the dough goes in the oven, it needs some slits in the top. This can be done with a really sharp knife, but I’ve found a clean pair of kitchen shears works just as well. You can make an “X”, cut a square, or carve your name in it. It just needs some places where the dough can expand while rising. Lube the dough one last time, sprinkle with some salt, clamp on the lid, and into the oven it goes for 30 minutes. Go play some more Rock Band.

Ahhhhh, it’s alive!!! No. By now, it’s quite dead. After 30 minutes, remove the lid, and let the bread finish baking. It is done when it is golden brown on the outside, and sounds hollow when you thump it. The best way to tell is to take its temperature. If it is 200 degrees in the center, congratulations, your bread is done. Remove from the oven.

And remove from the dutch oven.

The hardest part is waiting. It has to cool so the gluten can set. Cut into it now, and you’ll end up with a clumpy gluey mess. And listen. Hear that? Sounds like rice krispies when you pour milk on them. Sounds wonderful.

Finally, we can eat it!!! Looks beautiful, doesn’t it? There’s a slightly irregular crumb, but with enough small bubbles so there’s some bite and chewiness. Slice and serve.

So how easy was this? Well, for someone who never made bread, it’s awesome! The amount of labor required is minimal; it is mainly a factor of time. It is certainly not the most amazing bread I’ve ever had, but it is exponentially better than anything you can get at your local grocery store. Again, we’re not after the best bread we’ve ever had, we just want good. And good it is. It doesn’t need anything, but some butter and homemade jelly certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Ingredients:

King Arthur bread flour
City of Austin tap water
Red Star instant yeast
Morton’s kosher salt

Next up: Pie Dough, Mmmmmm, pie. Drool.