Vermont Maple Oatmeal Bread

     Growing up I was not much of an oatmeal fan unless it was in my mimi's oatmeal cookies.  As I grew older, I discovered oatmeal bread.  (Notice I didn't say grew up - I'm hoping that will never happen.)  Not that I'm baking, I'm making oatmeal bread.  This is a great recipe for Vermont Maple Oatmeal Bread at King Arthur.  I threw in some sunflower seeds just for the heck of it.  The maple and cinnamon in the bread are not overpowering.  There's just enough of a hint to enhance the aroma and flavor.  Just a wonderful subtle undertone.  It's one of those breads that you get a beautiful rise from.  The type that when Wayne sees it cresting the pan, he starts tasting it in his mind.  It's one of those breads that as it is cooling you need to find something to do, so you're not tempted to start eating it as soon as it comes out the oven.  It's a very tender bread with a wonderful crust.  It's been wonderful with breakfast; it was great bread for a smoked turkey sandwich; and I'm looking forward to it as French Toast.
     I mentioned in my last blog that our trip to Vermont was one of my favorite vacations.  In 1993 I took a week off work with the blessings of my wonderful principal, Paul.  It's not like I could see Fall color in June or November.  It had to be in October.  Being raised New Orleans, there is minimal Fall color.  There is a  little color to be found - swamp red maples, cypress get a beautiful rusty color, and Bradford pears get some color as well, but nothing like Vermont.  Good Lord, it is spectacular.  We were there at peak color.  When we arrived, everything was ablaze.  By time we left several days later, the trees were bare.
     I remember bringing a sack of McIntosh apples home from Coldhollow Cider Mill.  It was fascinating to watch them turn apples into fresh apple cider.  The smell was a little bit of olfactory heaven.  We discovered Danforth Pewter.  They have beautiful housewares and jewelry.  I bought some Christmas charms that I used as ornaments of an embroidered Christmas tree on a tee-shirt.  Just this last Christmas, Santa brought me a gorgeous barrette and earrings from Danforth.  I've bought several birthday and Christmas gifts from them over the years.  I remember visiting The Vermont Teddy Bear Company, where you can still find a teddy bear made in The United States.  It was teddy bear Nirvana.  Walking into The Vermont Country Store was like taking a step back in time.  You find yourself saying, "I didn't know they still made that," over and over again.  And of course, visiting King Arthur Flour filled with tempting aromas and everything a baker could possible want.
     There were many small, cozy stores and restaurants.  While we were having breakfast one morning there were a few snow flurries.  (I did mention that I am a southerner, didn't I?)  When I saw the flurries I was sooooo excited.  We're eating and I'm saying (rather loudly), "Look Wayne, it's snowing! It's snowing!"  People in the restaurant looked at me like I was the goofiest person they had ever seen.
     But the real star of the trip was the natural beauty.  The Fall color, the green mountains, the winding roads, the covered bridges - all of these things made it a trip I will always remember.  Wayne had a photo of me playing in the leaves as if I were a young child.  Our ride on the Green Mountain Railroad was a great way to see the countryside.  One of the things we brought home to remember our Vermont vacation was a framed preserved leaf.  All of our photos and our leaf are now safe and sound in a landfill somewhere.  Even though the physical mementos are gone, the vivid images in my memory will stay with me forever.

Sourdough?

     I began my bread baking venture back in October, and I have just had my first failure.  I made my starter for sourdough by making my seed culture.  After 5 days of discarding and feeding, my starter was nice and bubbly and had the right aroma.  When I went to proof it, I just could not get the bread to rise properly.  I know that it takes longer for it to rise than if I used regular yeast.  I know I could have used some instant yeast, but I really want to be able to do this without commercial yeast.  I baked the loaves anyway; I just wanted to see if they would have the right flavor profile.  One loaf was a plain sourdough loaf, and the other loaf was a blue cheese walnut sourdough.  As you could see by the picture, it just wasn't right.  The plain loaf had a better texture, but not where I want it to be.  Both loaves did have the sourdough flavor. I think I may have over kneaded the flavored loaf.  I have decided that I need to master a basic sourdough before I try flavoring again.  However, I am not dissuaded.  My mother used to say she was determined.  I, on the other hand, am proud to be just plain hard-headed stubborn. 
     I love to travel.  If I had lots of money I would be a wanderer.  (It's hard to do with 6 cats.)  Wayne and I have had been on some really wonderful trips.  My top three were Vermont for autumn color, the Alaskan cruises, and our drive down the California coast.  (By the way,  I do love Arizona.)  We had a leisurely drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles.  The natural beauty is beyond reproach.  I adored hiking in Muir Woods.  It was in San Francisco that we discovered Boudin Bakery, and what the big deal is about San Francisco sourdough bread.  I know that even when I get the sourdough thing down, it won't have quite the same tang because of my local yeast.  Wayne and I will still order bread from Boudin Bakery from time to time (sourdough French toast - yum).  There are so many beautiful places along the coast, but we happened upon a restaurant just outside of Carmel.  Rocky Point is a wonderful little restaurant.  We stopped there for breakfast.  The French roast coffee was the first really good cup of coffee we had since we started our trip.  The food was delicious; the only thing upstaging it was the ocean view.  There is not a bad seat in the house.  No matter where you sit, you have a spectacular view to go with great food. (Wayne had asked me where did I want to dine for my fiftieth birthday, and I told him Rocky Point.  Didn't happen. It's kind of hard to go to San Francisco when you are in charge of a high school graduation on the same day.)   If the weather is good, the patio dining is the best.  Oh - whales - without the aid of binoculars you can see whales spouting in the ocean.  If I had known, I would have brought binoculars with me.  One of the other places that left a lasting impression was The Madonna Inn.  I did not know it existed, if I had we would have had to stay there.  There is tacky; there is wonderfully tacky, and then there is the Madonna Inn.  Be sure to check out the link to it.  The guests rooms are all themed.  The restaurant is PINK!  There bakery produces some beautiful cakes.  It is just a really fun place.   We enjoyed all the sights form San Francisco to Los Angeles.  It was a relaxing trip that we will always remember.
     Anyway back to sourdough bread.  This week I plan on doing a little more research on sourdough.  I'll read all I can find, and tackle sourdough again this week or next week.  Cross your fingers, your toes, and your buns (you know the hot cross type), and wish me luck for my next attempt.

 UPDATE!!! I baked sourdough again this week (March 29) and success! See the picture below. 

Irish Soda Bread

     Okay, I have this compulsion to start with my favorite St. Paddy's Day joke (prepare to moan).  What's green, and Irish, and sits on the lawn?  Patio furniture.  Snort, snort, chortle, guffaw.  Get it - Pati O'Furniture.  See I told you prepare to groan.

     I knew that I would be baking Irish Soda Bread on March 17 for St. Patrick's Day.  I used a traditional recipe with some diced white, sharp cheddar cheese.  I used a small dice instead of grating it for a little more cheesy flavor  There's also a great Cabot cheddar soda bread recipe at King Arthur.  What a tasty bread.  I know I'm supposed to let it cool, but warm out the oven -ah heavenly.  We had cabbage, boiled potatoes and lamb to go with it. No corned beef for us; we went a  little more traditional.  Wayne suggested we have snake.  He said that would be perfect since St. Patrick chased all the snakes from Ireland.  Then he said snake wouldn't work, because they were all chased out.
     I love telling people that I'm Hispanic, and have them look at me like I'm goofy.  I mean look at my profile picture, don't I look Hispanic?  My grandfather's last name was Santa Cruz, and he was from Cuba.  My maiden name, however, was Murphy and my great-grand mother was a McConnell.  That would explain my complexion (but not the red hair - that's straight out of the bottle).  I have to say that since I have started my bread baking, Murphy's Law has not gotten me (knock on wood). 
     I always loved the St. Patrick's Day Parade in New Orleans when I was young.  Where else could you go home with a bag of green beads, cabbage, potatoes, and onions thrown from floats.  You did need to be careful not to get beaned with a flying vegetable, just ask my buddy Keri.  Several years ago Keri was hit in the head with a potato.  When I worked at St. Bernard High, the counselors, Rhonda (home ec teacher) the assistant principals, and the principal would eat lunch together.  We would occasionally have teachers join us.  The Monday after Keri was hit with the potato at the parade, she was showing us the knot on her head, and telling the story of how she got hit.  Being mature adults, we all laughed at her injury.  Keri said, "It's not funny.  I swear the potato must have weighed 5 pounds."  Julie, one of the assistant principals said, "I saw that potato in the grocery the other day.  It was just one big potato in a 5 pound bag," to which one of the teachers (initials KT) said, "Really, that must have been a huge potato."  The thing is KT thought Julie was serious.  I thought we were all going to fall on the floor.  Someday I'll tell you about traveling with KT and the trip to the Texas Renaissance Festival.  An Irish Blessing for you: May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night, and a smooth road all the way to your door.  Hope you all have a wonderful St. Patrick's Day.

Cornbread

     I've been making cornbread for years.  Frequently it is a recipe from the back of  bag of cornmeal with the addition of cream corn, cheddar cheese, and jalapenos.  When I saw a recipe for cornbread in The Bread Baker's Apprentice, I thought "Why/"  Well today I found out why.  The recipe started with a sponge made from cornmeal and buttermilk.  Brown sugar, sugar and honey were also added, as well as 16 ounces of corn kernels.  The one thing I did that the recipe did not say to do was grilled the corn in a skillet with a small amount of olive oil.  The bacon on the top was a nice finishing touch.  The cornbread was a thick, slightly sweet, extremely moist bread.  Wayne said it was as good as cake.
     When I grew up in New Orleans East (then called Little Woods) it was a rural area.  I lived on Hayne Boulevard which is directly across the street from Lake Pontchartrain.  Houses were built in little clumps.  Poppy lived in one of the six houses in our little area. In reality Poppy was Steve and David's grandfather, but he was everyone's grandfather.  He always had a stick of gum, a hug, and a warm smile for everyone.  Poppy was a true Christian.  He went to church on a regular basis and taught Sunday school.  He would help everyone in need.  He was not just a Sunday Christian; he did not just talk the talk; Poppy walked the walk. Poppy always had a vegetable garden.  I remember playing hide-and-seek in his corn.  During the summer you would never need to buy fresh veggies, Poppy always supplied them.  I can still taste the wonderful Creole tomatoes and Sugar-baby watermelons.   His sweet corn would have been a wonderful addition to this recipe, not just because it was home-grown, but because it was home-grown by a man with love in his heart for all.

Pain a l'Ancienne Rustic Baguettes

     Last week I baked Pain a l'Ancienne Baguettes, one of  the fabulousl recipes in Peter Reinhart's wonderful book, The Bread Bakers Apprentice.  It was the first time I used my bread stone  from King Arthur.  I've made baguettes before, and I don't know if it was the recipe or the stone or a combination of the two, but the baguettes were wonderful.  The crust had the crunch that a good baguette should, as well as nice big holes with a tender crumb.  This was a rustic baguette using pre-fermented dough made with ice cold water.   The baguettes were everything a baguette should be. 
      My mother would always have some type of crusty bread when she cooked meatballs and spaghetti.  You needed the bread because you didn't want to miss even one drop of her thick homemade "red gravy" (spaghetti sauce to most of the world).  My mother always had a least one dog, and she always fed them table food.  Whenever my mother made meatballs and spaghetti, our little "coyoodle" (mutt) Curley would pace anxiously around the house.  Meatballs and spaghetti was Curley's favorite.  Before we ate, my mother would chop up some spaghetti and a meatball with a good ladle of sauce on a small plate for the dog.  After Curley finished eating, my mother would have to clean her face because of the sauce in her whiskers.  My brother and I were well cared for, but we always knew we played second fiddle to our family dogs.