When my daughter, the artisan bread master baker, visited last winter, she freshened my sourdough starter and got me on the right track again for making bread. I worked on my bread skills for several weeks and feel I have finally mastered the technique of the soured, long-rise dough. My bread has been coming out of the oven looking like it should every time with a crispy golden crust and an airy, chewy interior.
But now we are spoiled and no one wants to eat soft, squishy, factory made bread anymore.
Last weekend when my oldest son visited he brought me a couple special loaves from a French style
boulangerie in the city. This one has caramelized onions and blue cheese.
Katie, it looks to me like after the baker cut the dough with the blade he piled the goodies on top. The onions and cheese were not throughout the dough, just on top. We're going to have to try this method!
This loaf from the bakery had olives and rosemary. Isn't it purty?
After eating sandwiches made with this hearty bread, the way bread has been made forever and so distinctly non-American style, there is just no going back to factory made bread.
Also, I will probably not have to shop for groceries ever again because as long as there is bread in the house no one wants to eat anything else anyway.
I recently read that in the eighteenth century, bread made up three quarters of the French diet. The Swiss also ate primarily bread with their dairy products. Cheese sandwiches and fondue day and night. And we know how hale and hearty the French and Swiss were.
The mono-diet. All carbs. All the time.
