Bread frenzy

It being recess week, I've lots of time for bread baking, the essence of which is, really, time. I could wax lyrical about why bread baking is so enjoyable in all its zen-like meditation, waiting and watching, or why it is poetic in its ancient-ness (bread baking goes back as far as Man's first cultivation of plants, which kinda works itself in as the start of civilisation :P), but it wouldn't be anything I haven't already done in tremendous excess elsewhere. 

I like how bread-baking is two-pronged (for me, at least)- it is a tremendously satisfying hobby while at the same time providing my family and I with a happy supply of yeasty, wheaty cushions to couch with cheese, eggs, a gliding of butter, ham, the works. Right now, for instance, I am trying to reproduce a 50% whole-wheat loaf from Rose Levy Beranbaum's amazingly generous blog (www.realbakingwithrose.com) with the greedy ambition of

turning out some fabulous BLTs for lunch over the weekend. To this effect, I think I shall make a trip to town later to buy some buffalo tomatoes. Alas, bread-baking is not expensive in itself, but it inspires expenditure on wonderful ingredients worthy of home-baked bread (both the making and the eating of!). 

That is the proofed (proven?) and risen dough waiting to be popped into the oven. It's quite an active dough and smells delicious even in its wobbly, airy, unbaked state. 

Popped in the oven for a 35 minute bake, this is the dough in its "oven spring", the rapid expansion of the dough as the yeast cells do a final, frenzied dance before the high heat kills them off. 

And here, the baked loaf- misshapenness courtesy of yours truly. 

Anyway, to start off the ham and eggs portion of this blog on a suitably greedy note, I shall now include a recipe for an excellent artisinal bread to encourage those of you who, while avid bakers and food lovers like me, have yet to venture into the mysterious valley of yeasted milk and honey- it takes an initial push like the one Rose Levy Beranbaum gave me with her beautiful volume, The Bread Bible, to start you on a journey of kneading, shaping, stirring and self-satisfied munching at 2 o'clock on a lazy weekday afternoon. Once you see the magic in coaxing deep, satisfying flavours and textures from hardly anyyhign more than flour, water, yeast and salt, I think it will become clear why I sometimes elect to stay at home just to tend to bread rising in my bedroom. 

This recipe (for Rose's basic hearth bread, not the one above) comes from "The Bread Bible", but also appears on the back of "Harvest King Better for Bread Flour" packets, and Rose, in that post, also includes some extra instructions (she is the goddess of meticulous instructions). This is one my favourite breads to make by virtue of it being so simple, and I hope you find it enjoyable too!