Maple and Hazelnut Loaves

Makes 4 loaves

The greatest challenge posed by the making of this loaf is not to eat the sweet, grainy puree by the spoonful before it even touches a grain of flour. Apart from that, it’s simple really. I am dying to incorporate this puree into a praline ice cream, or use it as a filling for alternative Chelsea buns. My thanks to Annie this week, for allowing her be-wellied feet to be photographed on an impromptu and rather giggly bread shoot.

For the hazelnut puree:

300g hazelnuts

100g salted butter, melted

150g maple syrup

50ml double cream

For the dough:

1.4ltr tepid water

50g fresh yeast, or 28g of dried

3tbsp sea salt

2kg strong white flour

For the crust:

200g hazelnuts

a little milk

Pulse the 200g of hazelnuts for the crust in a food processor until very roughly chopped. Tip out and set aside. Add all of the puree ingredients to the processor and blitz to a course paste. Dissolve the yeast in the water and then whisk in the puree. In a large bowl combine the salt and flour, then add the wet ingredients to the dry. Mix to a rough dough, cover and leave for 10 minutes. Knead lightly on an oiled work surface, ending with the dough in a smooth ball. Leave for another ten minutes then knead. Repeat this process. Leave for 1 hour. Divide the dough into 4 pieces, and shape each individual piece into a ball. Cover and leave for 10 minutes.

Lay a clean tea-towel flat on the work surface and spread the remaining 200g of crushed hazelnuts onto it. Take one ball of dough, and seam side up, flatten slightly. Fold the top edge down into the centre, and the bottom edge up to meet it. Lightly roll until the correct length for your 2lb loaf tins. Pick the loaf up gently by the under-seam, and turn over so the smooth top side is exposed. Brush evenly all over with a little milk, then roll back and forth across the tea-towel until well-covered with hazelnuts. Place in a buttered tin. Repeat with the rest of the loaves. Leave for 30 minutes in a warm place. Bake at 200˚c for 15 minutes, then 180˚c for 45 minutes. Keep a look out in case the hazelnuts on top start to darken too much; if this happens, just cover the loaf with some foil and continue baking. Leave for an hour before slicing.

N.B. Because this is a well-yeasted, reliable dough, if more convenient you can forget about the kneading times above, and replace with an initial 5 minute knead. After leaving for 1 hour, knock back and shape, then prove for 30 minutes as above.

Cider Barm Bread

Went foraging for the last few blackberries yesterday afternoon, accompanied by a very determined Dan. They are scarce to say the least now, as the October chill fills the air, but we heroically rose to the challenge; scouring the tops of hedgerows on tip toes, fearlessly battling nettles and brambles with freezing fingers and stinging wrists, all in pursuit of these shining, jet black jewels. It was a risky business, but one which will hopefully be appreciated by those who order the pannacotta with steeped wild blackberries.

My loaf this week is the one I have been most excited about, purely because it started life as a kind of science experiment, and I really wasn’t sure if it would work let alone taste good. I have made bread using a beer barm before, allowing beer and flour to ferment and create a natural leaven. However, as a dedicated cider drinker, I wanted to see if I could do the same with my beverage of choice. At the Pot Kiln we don’t have any ‘dirty’ ciders, and by that I mean proper, thick, sedimenty scrumpy, so hedging my bets and using our cider on tap, I added raisins to the mix. My hope was that the small amount of yeast on their surface would kick-start the fermentation process. After the barm was made, (and had suffered dubious looks from those sceptics who witnessed the stodgey mass being plonked into a kilner jar), it was put behind the bar, out of the kitchen heat. After a couple of days of hopeful check-ups, my patience paid off; bubbles began to appear and the volume increase, just like a beer barm.

The loaf itself is naturally leavened, which means it contains no added yeast whatsoever, and rises only because of the natural yeasts in the other ingredients. This means it needs a comparatively long time to prove even after the barm is ready, but the flavour is unsurpassable and you’ll find it keeps for much longer.

The Barm

1pt cider, preferably English

200g raisins, preferably organic

80g strong white flour

3tbsp leaven (I used rye)

The Bread

1.2 ltr ambient water

2kg strong white flour

8tsp sea salt

Heat the cider and raisins in a pan up to 70˚c (any more will kill the natural yeast). Take off the heat and add the flour in a steady stream, whisking all the time. It will go lumpy no matter what, just make sure the lumps aren’t too big. Leave to come back to room temperature, around 20˚c, then stir in the leaven. Pour into a sealable jar, and leave at room temperature, out of draught and hot air currents, for no less than 48 hours, until the volume has increased and bubbles are breaking the surface. If it needs 12 or 24 hours more then just give it time. It should look like the photograph below.

When ready, pour the entire contents of the jar into a large bowl. Whisk in the water. Mix the flour and salt, then add to wet ingredients and combine. Leave for 10 minutes. Turn out onto an oiled surface and knead briefly, ending with the dough in a ball. This is another wet dough, so a dough scraper is useful at this point. Cover with the upturned bowl and leave for 10 minutes. Repeat the kneading process, leave for another 10 minutes and knead again. Leave for half an hour or so and knead again, by which time the dough should be a lot more manageable. Now knead and leave for an hour. Then divide the dough into 4, shape into balls and place on separate semolina-dusted trays, leaving ample room for expansion. The dough should hold its shape well at this stage, and stand proudly. Cover with tea towels and leave for between 5 and 8 hours, depending on your schedule. I leave mine overnight in the coolest part of the kitchen, but a pantry would also be good. Natural leavens tend not to like the warmer places you might usually prove bread, such as airing cupboards or agas.

 The next morning, or after the long prove, spritz the loaves with water and bake at 220˚c for 15 minutes, then 200˚c for 45 minutes. The loaves should be golden all over and feel light when lifted. The texture should have great deep holes and spring back to form even when pressed hard.

A word on kneading....

This kneading schedule is only a guide and of course is not always possible if you want to have a life as well as bake a loaf of bread. The basic idea is short kneads (I aim for 5 or 6) occurring frequently at first then at steeply increasing increments, instead of one simple knocking back. It is less labour-intensive, and good if you can be in the kitchen all day, but does take a long period of time overall. Just fit the loaf around you, and if you need to leave it longer, regulate proving though temperature and place the dough somewhere cooler. As Dan Lepard says, ‘All breads can only be made if they suit the time you have available, whether in a bakery or in your home’.

Apricot and Oat Loaves

Since my last post the gentle grip of autumn has been steadily encroaching on the Pot Kiln and its garden. In a flurry of russet and deep purple (and with increasingly stained fingertips), I have been digging summer-sweetened beetroot, picking the remaining plums from our prolific tree, and gladly hoarding donated damsons. The beetroot, cubed and pickled in balsamic vinegar and red wine, serves as a vivid, earthy accompaniment to terrines and cold meats. The plums and damsons are both cooked down and pureed; the former to feature in a plum ripple ice cream for our irresistibly kitsch sundae, and the latter finding a more grown-up fate, as elegant cubes of firm jelly upon the cheeseboard.

There is change afoot not only in the weather but within the kitchen walls too, with the news that Dan, our talented sous chef, is leaving in a few short weeks. Dan has been my mentor in all things pastry-related; has tolerated my constant questioning and aided me translating my ideas onto the plate. He is moving to his Dad’s place, the Royal Oak at Eccinswell, where I know he will soar.

With the cooling climate and misty mornings, my annual porridge craving has returned, as is inevitable. There is something soothing about the aroma of hot oats, and with porridge on my mind I’ve decided to post this simple, homely loaf. The oats make for a spongy, slightly open crumb, and an almost creamy taste – perfect toasted and drenched in melting butter.

Apricot and Oat Loaves

Makes 4 loaves

100g jumbo oats

300g dried apricots in ½ cm dice

400ml boiling water

1kg strong white flour

1kg wholemeal flour

3 tbsp sea salt

3tbsp honey

2 tbsp fresh yeast (or 28g dried yeast)

1.4 ltr water at room temperature

Combine the oats and apricot pieces in a large bowl and pour over the boiling water. Leave for 15 minutes for the water to be absorbed and to cool down. Whisk in the honey, remaining water and then yeast, until evenly combined. Mix together the flours and salt, and add to the wet ingredients. Roughly combine into a sticky dough, cover with a cloth and leave for 10 minutes.

 Turn out onto a lightly oiled surface and knead for a minute or so with oiled hands until a ball is formed with a taut surface. It is a wet dough, so I find using a dough scraper helps greatly. Return to a clean bowl, cover and leave to prove in a warm place for 1 hour. Turn the dough out again, and divide into 4 pieces. One by one, knead each piece, bringing dough from the outside into the middle, turning the mass 45˚ each time you do this. Once in a ball and with the seam side facing you, flatten slightly and fold the top edge down into the centre, and the bottom edge up to meet it. Lightly roll then place in oiled loaf tins, with the seam at the bottom.

Leave to prove again for half an hour. Bake at 220˚c for 50 minutes. Remove from the tins and return to the oven for a further 5 minutes. The dough should sound hollow and be coloured all over. Leave to firm up for at least an hour before slicing.