White bread is now my enemy, a stubborn obstacle preventing me from reclaiming a hobby too long ignored. Never mind that the yeast, and not the bread itself, foiled my triumphant return to bread baking. The possibility that I may have scuttled my own loaf by failing to properly proof said yeast is similarly unimportant. No, white bread will pay despite the arguably extenuating circumstances, though I admit my scapegoating may be unjust. And the only way to truly enact revenge on bread? Why, to create it from a mere pile of flour and then devour it.

The recipe is based on one of the white bread variations in Peter Reinhart’s Bread Baker’s Apprentice, my standard reference. If you have the slightest interest in baking bread, find yourself a copy. Mr. Reinhart manages to explain the underlying chemistry of baking bread in such a way as to inspire confidence while remaining accessible. With some practice and a few re-readings, this book will have taught me enough to start fiddling around with my own bread recipes.

It rose this time, though I wouldn’t have minded a bit more of a rise from either the primary or secondary fermentation. Then again, I’ve had bread that overproofed and then totally deflated during shaping and baking. Shaping is by far my biggest bread weakness. There’s an old saying about how good bakers need an iron hand and a velvet glove. Basically, it means you need to be assertive in shaping the dough, but gentle enough not to degas it. Less air in the dough = denser bread. With rustic breads such as the classic French baguette, this is very important, as these breads call for a big, open crumb with lots of spacious air holes. With this bread it’s a little less imperative, as a tight chewy crumb is a desirable attribute in sandwich bread.

This may be the happiest I’ve ever been with the crumb of my bread. It’s just tight enough. While it’s sturdy enough to work in a sandwich, and delightfully chewy, it’s still surprisingly soft and light. This is a sign that, for once, I did not overwork, and thus excessively degas, the dough during shaping. As for shaping, I did better than I expected. Not only did I manage not to squelch the gas out of the dough as I shaped it, I also produced two reasonable looking loaves

This bread is freakin’ delicious. I’m pretty derisive towards mass market white sandwich bread, but this stuff teaches me what Wonderbread yearns to be: perfectly chewy, with a hint of sweetness and a mildly buttery finish. And man, does it make excellent toast.

Take that, white bread. You slap me with a velvet glove, I punch you with an iron fist.

Recipe follows…

Ingredients:

• 4 1/2 C unbleached bread flour
• 1 1/2 t salt
• 3 T sugar
• 2 t instant yeast
• 1 large egg, slightly beaten
• 1/4 c butter, margarine, shortening, oil at room temp.
• 1 1/2 c buttermilk or whole milk, at room temp (I used buttermilk)

1. Mix flour, salt, sugar, yeast. Pour in egg, butter, milk and mix until all the flour is absorbed and the dough forms a ball. Don’t be afraid to trickle in more milk or flour if it seems too stiff or slimy.
2. Sprinkle some flour on the counter and transfer the dough onto it. Knead, adding more flour as necessary, for 6-8 minutes, or until the dough passes the windowpane test. It should be soft and tacky, but not outright sticky. Lightly oil a large bowl and put the dough in there, rolling it around to coat it with the oil. Cover with plastic wrap.
3. Leave the dough to ferment for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until it doubles in size. The amount of time this will take varies depending on room temperature.
4. Remove the fermented dough and divide it however you like. I made 2 loaves, so divided it into halves here, but it’s supposedly enough for 18 rolls or 12 buns. Shape portions into balls by pulling the edges of the dough together at the bottom and pinching (this creates surface tension which helps the loaf expand while baking, a phenomenon known as “oven spring”). Mist lightly with oil, cover, and let rest for 20 minutes.
5. To make loaves, gently flatten each dough ball into a rough rectangle about 5 inches wide and 6-8 inches long. Then, gradually roll the short side of the rectangle over on itself, pinching together the end you’ve just rolled in with the rest of the dough (to create surface tension). Keep doing this until you reach the end of the dough, at which point pinch the final crease closed. Put loaves into greased 8 1/2 x 4 1/2-inch loaf pans.
6. Mist the loaves with oil and loosely cover. Let them rest (proof) for a 60 to 90 minute secondary fermentation, or until nearly doubled in size.
7. Preheat oven to 350F (400F for rolls). At this point, I made an egg wash (an egg and some water whisked until frothy) that I brushed gently onto the loaves. Then I sprinkled on some poppy seeds as a garnish.
8. Bake for 35-45 minutes, rotating 180 degrees halfway through baking if it looks like they’re baking unevenly. You’re looking for golden brown tops and sides, with an internal loaf temperature of around 190F (if you care to measure these sorts of things).
9. Remove loaves from pans immediately and place them on a cooling rack. Let loaves cool at least an hour before slicing and eating.