Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Sweet Vanilla Challah




Comfort. It can describe so many things. A favorite old blanket. Your husband's college sweatshirt. Your mom's chicken soup--even if it came out of a red and white can. I was talking with some friends at lunch today--we tried a new Lebanese restaurant in town--and we noticed that, regardless of origin, there is something about comfort food that registers as just that--"comfort." I didn't know what Lebanese food was before today, but I knew, biting into a slice of dough-topped casserole stuffed with ground meat lightly seasoned with tomato and cinnamon, that this was comfort. Add some hummus and warm, soft pita, and the rain and thunder that had been threatening since I woke up slowly faded away.


It can be anything, comfort. If post-10 am cappucinos got you through that difficult finals week your senior year of college, no matter how gauche it might seem in Italy, you'll continue to drink cappucinos at any time of day, whenever you need the assurance that you can indeed make it through. Yet I think it is no accident that most coffee shops also sell freshly baked bread, muffins, cookies, or cakes. Some people refer to that fifth taste (beyond the salty, sweet, sour, and bitter that your tastebuds register) as umami, which translates loosely as "delicious essence." It is found in breads, its fragrance taken in through the nose and translated into a complex and hearty flavor. Coffee shops, then, have a perfect balance of bitter and sweet scents, complicated and clarified by the earthy presence of umami. Perhaps this is also why I prefer to bake bread in the morning--I can have my warm cup of coffee next to me as I stir, knead, and bake. As Nigella Lawson says, "We're all trying to achieve balance in life, and it's easier to come by in the kitchen than anywhere else."What are your kitchen comforts? What practices make your time spent cooking and baking not only pleasurable, but necessary? Coffee while baking, wine while cooking would have to be mine. And time of day: baking in the morning or late at night, cooking mid-afternoon and evening. (Well, I can bake any time of day, but those are my favorites.)


This weekend, after I turned in the last of my seminar papers for my entire grad school career, after struggling with a computer and jump drive that insisted on erasing six hard-fought pages of one, after too little sleep and too much thought, I could finally sit still. I could wake up free on Saturday morning, knowing I would never feel that same kind of deadline again--the deadline of an assignment that, while certainly and important and worthwhile, was not directly related to the research I wanted to do. Now I can devote myself entirely to food and cookbook study, and I decided to begin by studying a new kind of bread for me: an egg bread.

I chose to fill the house that Saturday with the smell of sweet, salty, bready vanilla. My husband, not usually a fan of baked goods, could not stop commenting on how good it smelled. (I think he even went outside a few times just so he could come back in and the smell would be newly potent again.) When the gorgeous, shiny, egg-washed loaves came out of the oven and sat in their coiled splendor on the cooling racks, we both repeatedly walked by and casually set our hands on top of the loaves, willing them to cool down as quickly as possible. When we finally cut into one it was everything its smell had promised: delicate and hearty, the moist rich yellow of a butter cake but somehow less sweet and more tempting. We immediately set a few pieces to dry out for french toast the following morning and debated how to use the rest. It worked as sandwich bread for grilled chicken, dessert, morning toast. We still have another loaf that is, unfortunately, going stale, but no worries: it will be reborn in a trifle, a pudding, or perhaps a creation that has yet to be imagined. If anything can inspire, this can.


Sweet Vanilla Challah
(adapted from Beth Hensperger's Bread Bible)

Makes two turban-shaped loaves.

1 tablespoon (1 package) active dry yeast
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon salt
6 1/2-7 cups unbleached all-purpose flour or bread flour (I prefer a mixture)
1 3/4 cups hot water (120 degrees)
4 large eggs at room temperature, lightly beaten
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

For the glaze: (this will make just enough to glaze both loaves)
1 large egg yolk
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 tsp. sugar

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or a large bowl and a whisk) combine the yeast, sugar, salt, and 2 cups of the flour. Add the hot water, eggs, oil, and vanilla. Beat hard until smooth, about 3 mins., scraping down the sides of the bowl occasionally. Add the remaining flour, a 1/2 cup at a time, until the dough becomes very stiff. (If mixing by hand, switch to a wooden spoon when you can no longer whisk and stop stirring, well, when it's too stiff to stir.)

Switch to the dough hook and knead for 3-4 mins. until the dough is smooth, springy, and springs back when pressed. It should show a layer of blisters under the skin. You can then transfer it to a lightly floured surface and knead a few times by hand, or transfer it directly to an oiled bowl and cover with plastic wrap to let it rise. (If kneading by hand, allow 4-5 minutes and look for the same indicators as above.)

Place dough in a well-oiled bowl, turning once to coat. Cover with plastic wrap and allow to rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 1 1/2-2 hours.

Grease or spray (or parchment line) two baking sheets or springform pans (that can fit in the oven at the same time, preferably on the same shelf). Spray the counter with nonstick spray (or lightly flour it, but I find the nonstick spray method helps the dough not to dry out). Gently deflate the dough by turning it onto the counter. Divide it into two equal portions with a knife or dough scraper. (Mark off 30 inches long on the counter with tape using a ruler if you don't trust your ability to eyeball it. You'll get more used to it with practice.) Roll each portion of dough into a smooth rope about 30 inches long, with one end a few inches wider than the other. (I found it easier to stretch the dough on one end, then roll to smooth it out, as stretching helped one end to stay wide.) Anchor the wider end on your surface and wind the rest around it, forming a turban shape. Pinch the end and tuck it under. Place the coils, swirl pattern up, on baking sheets. let rise until almost doubled, about 40 mins. (The eggs in the dough will help it continue to rise in the oven.)

Twenty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Make the glaze by whisking the glaze ingredients together in a small bowl. Gently brush the surfaces of the loaves generously with the glaze, but do be sure not to overdo it--the glaze will make just enough for the two loaves. Place the baking pans on the center rack of the oven and bake for 40-45 mins., until they turn a deep golden brown and sound hollow when tapped with a finger. Carefully lift them off baking sheets and place on a cooling rack. Cool completely before serving.

These make excellent toast, French toast, bread pudding, or snacks by themselves or with a little butter. They are slightly sweet, though the sweetness is mostly in the aroma rather than the taste. We used them to make grilled chicken sandwiches with lettuce, tomato, and a bit of mayo and dijon mustard and they were fantastic.

1 comment:

Anna said...

Because it's better than planning for class tomorrow:
http://knitcookrant.blogspot.com/
Whee!