A Fear of Yeast

Who knew micro organisms could be so bloody difficult? 

I have never been good with yeast. Baking projects involving the mysterious brown pellets would either work magnificently or fail miserably with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Obviously I had done something like used water that was too hot, not given it/them (?) enough food or the yeast was just dead before I even started… but being at the mercy of some tiny forms of fungi drove me crazy. People who are good with leavened baked goods have my eternal respect.

When I was small, my mum regularly baked our bread. I remember if I got to stay up a bit late, I would get a slice of squidgy, warm loveliness at the table in the darkened house, Canadian winter wind whooshing snow around outside. Now that I'm going to be home full-time, and keen to wrap Elliot in that same warm fuzzy feeling, I started trying to make my own bread.

I began with spelt, and failed miserably. I tried Signe's recipe over on her Scandilicious blog, even pestering her on Twitter with a million questions, but to no avail. My loaves were like bricks. Granted the first attempt was blighted by a chaotic morning of post deliveries, which makes Gusdog go ballistic therefore waking Elliot in a chain reaction of frustration. The first rise went on about three times as long as it should have, and there were other ways I messed it up but I can't even remember them now. The second time around, I did do everything according to plan, but it just didn't rise much at all only to entirely sink in the oven. I'm entirely sure these setbacks were all of my own making and not the fault of Signe's recipe, but after tossing out two inedible loaves I couldn't face any more spelt experiments.

I came across an excellent description of what exactly strong flour is and what it's for over at Dan Lepard's blog. I admit I have been using whatever kind of flour is called for in a given recipe, but if I don't have it, I use whatever I have indiscriminately in blissful ignorance. Armed with this new knowledge, I approached my hefty copy of Rose Levy Beranbaum's The Bread Bible, ready to tackle some basic white. The recipe is four pages long, and there is no Nigella-style waffling in there. This lady means business. Over two days, despite a baby with a temperature, an overactive terrier and not much sleep, I did it. I stood at the kitchen counter at 11pm last night and had a slice of my own heavenly white bread. 

The Bread Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum