No-knead bread

Making bread is perhaps the most fulfilling act of “cooking” I do in my kitchen. I have described it many times before and this one won’t be any different. It gives me an utter sense of accomplishment when a good loaf of bread comes out of the oven, when that intoxicating smell of warm bread fills my nostrils and the sound of its crust cracking fills my ears.

The kneading, that sometimes soft and at other times hard rocking movement, almost meditative, makes me get lost in my thoughts only to be awakened by a soft dough underneath my fingers.

The shaping, the tucking of the dough, gently laying it on a warm towel and then waiting for it to proof, to become airy and light and plump. And then the final shaping, the punching of the dough, the degassing, where you can almost hear it puffing and huffing the air out.

The baking, the aroma, the anticipation, the warmth, the memories. When it comes out, it looks all puffed and scorched in the most gentle of ways, or like it has been through hell, all misshaped and yet beautiful.
That’s what bread is all about.
Yeast, flour, water.

On some occasions, it’s even simpler than that. It’s just mixing it quickly yet attentively, and then letting it do its thing, what it is meant to do all along; rise and become alive. That’s the no-knead bread. It’s when you make bread by skipping some of the steps, for some cumbersome, for others essential. Me, I’m in the middle somewhere. I love everything there is to love about bread. At times I want it all, I can afford to go through every single step and nurture it to the great loaf we will enjoy with our dinner or in the morning, with butter and jam. And at other times, I need the whole process to be quick, I don’t have the time to spent nurturing it, I need it to be independent and yet I need it to be delicious and all that it can be. At those instances, I choose the no-knead bread.

This is a recipe that I have been playing around with for years, almost ever since it came out. It is a glorious recipe and one that allows you to mess around with it and find the version that you like most.

I have made this with whole wheat flour, spelt and rye flour, with fresh yeast, with instant yeast, with my own sourdough culture. It always comes out good; with variations in flavor depending on the flour and yeast used, and in texture depending on the humidity levels (Holland is notorious for its humidity thus affecting bread-making a great deal).

I have never been disappointed with this bread and even though you may find this recipe in a billion other places around the internet, here is my very own version with just a few tweaks that slightly alter the flavor of the bread to better suit our tastes. For those of you who haven’t yet discovered it or for those of you who need to be reminded of the beauty that is the no-knead bread, here it is.

No-Knead Bread
Adapted from Jim Lahey

The only thing that makes this recipe potentially difficult is the fact that you need a Dutch oven (or a clay or ceramic pan with lid) to bake the bread in. I have explained before in detail why and how this process works (in this post).
Also, I’m not sure if this bread could be baked on a pizza stone (with the help of ice cubes to create steam as explained in the same post), but I plan to try it in the future. I’ll keep you posted.

The more hours you leave the dough to proof the better. Lahey suggests 12 hours but I have the best results when I leave it for 18.

The flavor of this bread is reminiscent of sourdough. The addition of a small amount of sugar takes away that intense sourness which is something I prefer, but you can always omit the sugar if you want. The texture of the crumb is light and airy, with many large and smaller holes (one of the most enticing characteristics of this bread), whereas the crust is super crunchy and stays that way for a couple of days.

I have used many types of white wheat flour to make this bread and I have had the best results, better crust and flavor, with 00 flour with a high gluten content, about 12% (Italian 00 flour for pizza) (you can read detailed info about this type of flour in this post). A good alternative is strong white bread flour.

Yield: 1 loaf (about 700 g)

Ingredients
430 g strong white bread flour (or “00” flour for pizza)
¼ tsp instant dried yeast
1¼ tsp sea salt
½ tsp caster sugar
1 Tbsp olive oil
345 g water (from the tap)

Extra flour for flouring the work surface ant the dough

Special equipment: large bowl, long wooden spoon, plastic wrap, baking paper, cast-iron or ceramic pot with lid


Preparation
In a large bowl, add the flour, yeast, salt and sugar and mix with a wooden spoon. Add the water and olive oil and mix intensely with the wooden spoon for about 1 minute, until it comes together into a wet dough. Cover the bowl well with plastic wrap and leave it at room temperature to rest and proof for preferably 18 hours, but you can leave it anywhere from 12-20 hours.
I usually leave it in my living room where the temperature is 20-22 degrees Celsius / 68-71 Fahrenheit.

After 18 hours have passed, the dough should have more than tripled in volume and appear with a lot of tiny holes on top. Lay a large piece of baking paper on a clean work surface, dust generously with flour and empty the dough on top. Lightly flour the top of the dough, flour your hands and fold the dough four times (once from each side). Cover the dough loosely with plastic wrap and leave to rest for 15 minutes.

Note: Having made this bread numerous times, I have to say that almost every time, the dough is different. Sometimes it's very wet, others not so much and at other times firmer than usual. This is due to environmental changes (like humidity) rather than the recipe itself which always remains constant. So do not worry if your dough turns out more wet than mine. It happens. This time that I took photos, it actually turned out quite firm.

Take a baking sheet and lay a large clean kitchen towel on top (no fluffy kind of towel). Dust the towel well with flour, or you can also use cornmeal.
Flour your hands and fold the dough again four times (once from each side), stretching it if needed, turn it upside down (folds should be underneath) and try to shape it into a rough ball. It will be sticky so don’t worry if you can’t really shape it well. Place it (seam-side down) on the floured kitchen towel. Flour the top of the dough lightly and fold the towel on top. Leave the dough to proof and almost double in size for 2 hours.

Thirty minutes before the 2 hours have passed, place your cast-iron or ceramic pan with lid in the oven and preheat to 225 Celsius / 435 Fahrenheit.
When the oven has preheated, remove the pan from the oven and quickly add the dough, seam-side up, into the pan and close the lid. Place pan immediately in the oven and bake the bread for 30 minutes. Then remove the lid and bake for a further 17-18 minutes, until the bread has a nice golden-brown crust.

Remove the pan from the oven, allow the bread to stand for 5 minutes in the pan and then transfer it on a wire rack to cool. I can never restrain myself and I always break a piece off as it is still warm.

You can keep the bread covered with a clean kitchen towel for a couple of days.

Use it for a nice lunch with poached eggs on top, eat it with your dinner or for breakfast with your favorite jam.

Enjoy and do let me know if you try it!

The Greek Fava

Ever since I started this blog, I have evolved a great deal as a cook, as an eater, as an aficionado of food. I appreciate it more now because I know more about it. I have discovered new flavors, I have learned things from cookbooks as well as from my fellow food bloggers and my palate has become more sophisticated. I am no longer content with what I used to eat five or six years ago.

However, nothing will ever change when it comes to my food, Greek food. The appreciation I have for my country’s food has only grown and I have learned that I don’t need to mess with it in order to prove something, or try to make it better. It is unique.

Perhaps it’s the fact that for the last six years I don’t live permanently in Greece that has made me crave it more, or the fact that I am exposed to so many different types of culinary cultures here in the Netherlands that I don’t feel the need to fuse traditional Greek cooking to make it more modern or hip. I love it for what is.

Sure, I love experimenting with all types of cuisines and I truly enjoy new combinations, but you’ll find that when it comes to the traditional foods of my country, I keep them very much intact. I love them that way.

There is so much room to experiment with flavors on other plains, on dishes based on Greek ingredients, the Greek staples if you’d like, but I will never cook mousaka with anything other than the ingredients it was meant to be cooked with. I leave the evolution, or destruction, of our culinary history and tradition to others, and there are plenty of them out there.

Fava (not to be confused with the fava bean which in Greece is called kouki/ κουκί) is a traditional Greek dish of yellow split peas (lathouri in Greek/λαθούρι). It is a purée, flavored with onion and cooked and served with olive oil. It is usually served at room temperature as a mezes, to be eaten alongside other small plates of food, or as an appetizer before a fish-based main dish. In my home though, we always have it as a warm main dish, simply because we love it so much. Especially me.

It is easy and quick to make, it is frugal, hearty and nutritious, and absolutely delicious to boot. Served topped with a good drizzling of Greek olive oil, and a side of anchovies or sardines, black olives (I prefer Kalamata), raw onion, feta and fresh crusty bread, fava is the epitome of traditional, rustic Greek cooking.

PS. Speaking of good Greek olive oil, unfortunately it is not always easy to find in the Netherlands. A few months ago, I was fortunate and very happy to receive a small bottle of Greek extra virgin olive oil along with a jar of Greek olives and Greek thyme honey from a young Greek couple entrepreneurs Nikoletta and Kostas of Karpos fine food who have started a business here in the Netherlands importing these goodies from the region of Amaliada in Greece. They were very sweet to send me their products and I have to say, all three were excellent. I encourage those of you who live in the Netherlands to visit their Facebook page and get in touch with them if you want to get some Greek olive oil, olives or honey. I love supporting these kinds of small businesses, especially from fellow Greeks and I hope you do too.

Greek Fava (Yellow Split-Pea Purée)

Fava can be made a little bit chunky or very smooth depending on your taste. I like it both ways. This one was made in Greece, I cooked it with my grandmother, I love to cook with her whenever I’m home, but I also made fava last week and I made it super smooth.
Santorini is famous for her fava. If you do manage to find some, do use it.

Yield: 4-6 main-course servings

Ingredients
500 g yellow split-peas
1.2 liters water
2 medium-sized onions, cut into four
100 ml olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground white pepper

Olive oil, to serve

Special equipment: colander, immersion or regular blender


Preparation
Add the yellow split-peas to a colander and rinse well under cold running water. Add them to a large, heavy-bottomed pan, add the water and place pan over high heat. Bring to the boil and using a spoon, remove the scum that gathers on the surface of the water.
Add the onions, a little salt and freshly ground white pepper, mix well with a spoon and once it begins to boil, turn heat down to low, put lid on ajar, and simmer, checking from time to time if it needs more water, for about 20 minutes or until the split peas have softened.
In the end you don’t want it to be too runny (if it is, remove the extra liquid), but moist. Add the olive oil and stir well.

Take the pan off the heat and leave fava like this for 5-10 minutes. Then using an immersion blender, blend everything inside the pan until smooth (if it’s runny don’t worry, it will thicken up as it cools). You can keep it a little bit chunky if you prefer. If you have a regular blender, transfer split peas little by little to the blender and purée. Then return to the pan.
Check the seasoning, adding more salt if needed.

Serve fava on plates, drizzled with a little olive oil on top.
Using your fork, mix the olive oil in the fava until incorporated. Serve with red onion, cut into four, sardines or anchovies, black olives, feta cheese and crusty bread.

You can also serve the fava at room temperature.
You will notice that once it cools, it thickens. Don’t worry, once you reheat it, it will be smooth and loose again.
The next day it will be even tastier.

Enjoy!

Inspiration January 2014: Audiovisual

Today, I made this loaf.

I haven’t shared my sources of inspiration in a while, since March 2013 to be exact, so let’s kick it off for 2014.


• Minimizing food waste, Copenhagen-style. Impressive idea.

• This documentary.

• This movie. And this.

• This spoke so deeply to me you cannot imagine.

• A different kind of dance.

• A cappella.

• Buttermilk and cream scones.

• Little people tasting things for the first time.

• I don’t know if this works, but I want to try it.

• Cheese soufflé*, from the shepherd to the oven.

• Listening to this. And this.


*My own cheese soufflé recipe here, if you’re interested.



Have a good weekend!



Previously: Inspiration November 2011, March 2012, July 2012, October 2012, March 2013.

Pear and vanilla honey

Pears were never my favorite fruit. That slightly grainy and at the same time slippery smooth texture put me off. S on the other hand, loves them. From autumn till late winter, pears adorn our oversized fruit bowl and he always seems to munch on them after dinner.

I can’t say that I have somehow miraculously converted to eating them, but this recipe made me reconsider my relationship with the fruit. Let me introduce you to the pear and vanilla honey and to make things clear, it doesn’t contain honey. This is like a jam but with a honey consistency. And it is dreamy.

The idea of making this came from an experiment I made a long time ago with apples. I wanted to make apple jelly but ended up making apple honey. It never occurred to me to apply the process to other fruits but when I had some Conference pears staring at me from the fruit bowl, the decision was made. Pear honey it was.

I made it a couple of times since that first time and S polishes off a couple of small jars all by himself. As for me, it is something I go for in the mornings instead of my beloved strawberry and raspberry jams. That speaks volumes about how good it is.

What you do is simple. You add some chopped pears to a pan along with a split vanilla bean and a little lemon juice. You simmer until the pears soften and the smell is sweet and tempting and then you purée the whole lot. You add sugar, simmer for a while longer until it thickens and bubbles like amber-colored lava, and you’re done.

It is incredibly aromatic and not very sweet, with the right amount of acidity from the lemon and a spicy quality from the vanilla. With a smooth and ever-so-slightly grainy texture from the pear, it flows like honey without the stickiness.

I made brioche the other day and when I smeared some of the pear honey over a thin slice, it was magical. It was what breakfast dreams are made of. A couple days ago though, when I was craving a savory nibble, I paired the pear honey with mature Gruyère cheese and some crusty bread, and I was enchanted by the combination of savory and sweet.

Pear honey, you are a wonderful thing.


PS. I need to share the recipe for this brioche bread, soon.

Pear and Vanilla Honey

I used Conference pears; the most common European pear. Their flesh is grainy, sweet and juicy and perfect for this pear honey.
Use ripe but not overripe pears.

By the way, the pear honey is a perfect pair to these Parmesan biscuits.

Yield: about 600 g (3 small jars)

Ingredients
1 kg whole pears, peeled, cored and roughly chopped (about 750 g after peeling)
Juice of 3 lemons (130-140 ml)
300 ml water
1 vanilla bean, split
390 g caster sugar (less or more depending on the amount of pear purée you end up with, read on recipe for details)

Special equipment: medium-sized, heavy-bottomed pan with lid, immersion or regular blender, fine sieve, measuring jug, glass jars with lids


Preparation
Add the peeled, cored and chopped pears to a medium-sized, heavy-bottomed pan (I use a Dutch oven) along with the lemon juice, water and split vanilla bean. Stir and bring to the boil over medium-high heat. Then, cover the pan and simmer over low heat for 10 minutes. Uncover the pan and continue to simmer for a further 15 minutes, or until pears are soft, stirring from time to time.

Remove the split vanilla bean carefully from the pan, scrape out the seeds carefully (the bean will be hot) and add them to the pear mixture.
Using an immersion blender, purée the mixture in the pan until smooth. If you’re using a regular blender, transfer the pear mixture little by little to it and blend until smooth.

Press purée through a fine sieve and into a measuring jug and write down how many ml of purée you have. Return purée to the pan and add the sugar. You must add 275g of caster sugar for every 600ml of purée. My purée was 850ml so I added 390g of caster sugar.

Place pan over low heat and stir the mixture until the sugar dissolves. Turn heat up to high and boil for 15-17 minutes, stirring often, until the mixture thickens and becomes like very very thick syrup that holds its shape when spooned onto a cold plate.

Pour the hot jam into small sterilized jars and turn the jars upside down. (Read here on how to sterilize glass jars). Once the jam has cooled completely, put the jars in the refrigerator. It’s better to leave the jam sit for a couple of days before you try it. It will give it time to develop in flavor.

The jam will keep for about 3 months in the fridge. Once opened, it will keep for 1 month.