Stay Cool: Part Deux-Laminated Dough (Croissants)

I'm back after the second class at Whole Foods, with Chef Amy Osborn who guided us through a more complex rich, laminated dough. The process of laminating involves the superimposing of fat (in this case unsalted butter) into a flour dough then folding,rolling out and chilling it multiple times to complete incorporation layer by layer. This process yields the buttery, flaky, rich and light layers familiar to us in croissants, danishes or puff pastry.

As in last week's class, a recipe of the dough had been prepared the night before for us to shape and bake while there, and we also prepared a new recipe of the dough to bring home and finish. My thanks to Chef Osborn and friends in class who didn't mind that I brought my camera along this time.

So here's classmate Stephen and our pre-made dough provided at the start of class. Notice the layers of butter within the dough. (If you double-click on any picture you will see a full screen image.)










We cut the recipe of dough in half and began the shaping into the typical crescent croissant, and then the filled rectangles with chocolate (pain au chocolat) or marzipan, made from ground almonds and sugar.

It became clear, very early in the rolling and shaping how quickly the butter within the dough softened. And, the butter must stay solid to give the rise and flakiness to the final product.

After rolling out the dough into a rectangle 21"L x 5" W, we marked it in 5 " increments, then cut it into triangles. Starting from the base of each triangle we rolled up, ending with the tip and placed the dough tip down on the parchment lined baking sheet.

Once shaped, the crescents were placed in the makeshift (heated) proofing box to rise. This is where our key learning began. Such a butter layered dough is susceptible to too high heat and melting. The proofing box was nearly 100 degrees F and ultimately 'proved' our undoing. But I digress.

Next, we rolled out the other half of the provided dough, cut it into rectangles. Then at the narrow end base, we place a rolled 'log' of almond paste or a sprinkle of chocolate pieces. Then we rolled from the base and placed the rectangles on a parchment lined baking sheet ready for proofing.

Here's Chef Osborn, quite pleased with our second shaping, prior to placing the dough in the proofing box.










While the dough was proofing, we began making a recipe of the rich dough to take home for our own use (within a day). The dough begins with warm milk, yeast, sugar and salt (not poured directly on the yeast). Then we added a small amount of butter, bread flour and pastry flour. Chef Osborn prefers cake flour rather than pastry flour. (The cake flour has a different protein content and produces a different crumb.) We mixed this together with a spatula and then by hand, working to incorporate the ingredients, especially the butter. The dough is temperamental and some of us required a little more milk or water, while others added a little more flour. In the end the dough is somewhat sticky. It was covered in a bowl an allowed to rise in the sun of the kitchen window until doubled in size.

The dough was then punched down and turned out onto the lightly floured marble counter, and rolled out into a rectangle. Eight ounces of butter was then cut unto 8 equal squares and lined up on a sheet of parchment paper, in a tiled fashion making a rectangle about 2/3 the size of the rolled out dough. A second piece of parchment paper was placed on top of the butter and a rolling pan used to reduce seams between the squares of butter. Then the top piece of parchment paper was peeled away and the rectangle of butter laid onto the dough, butter side down. Then the second piece of parchment paper was peeled away.










The dough was then folded into a book style, bottom third up, and top third down. Then it was wrapped and refrigerated.

Having made our take home dough, it was time to start baking off the shaped pieces that had been proofing. Depending on where in the proofing box each of our dough was housed, some had suffered exposure to heat high enough to melt the butter in the dough. Guess who's shaped pieces had suffered such a calamity? Yes, mine.

Still we pressed on and baked our pieces, and for teaching sake I am glad we did. Read on and you will see why. Chef Osborn was clearly disappointed for those of us whose dough had been dealt the fatal blow. Nevertheless, I came home with a box of demonstration pieces that had not risen and during cooking looked more like they were being sauteed in a pool of melted butter rather than rising high and puffing.

But a good student soldiers on. You can bet I kept my take home dough well-chilled every minute since leaving Whole Foods. This morning I first rolled out the crescents, shaped them and let them proof for an hour and a half in a cold oven, heated only by the oven light.


Then I brushed them with egg wash and off to the oven they went.


I rotated the pan half way through the 18 minutes at 400 degrees F (conventional) and voila!


Next I retrieved the other half of the dough that I had placed back in the refrigerator while the crescent croissants were being made.

Again I rolled the dough into a large rectangle. Then I cut the dough in half, width wise, then into rectangles. The marzipan or chocolate pieces were placed on the bottom, then rolled, proofed, egg-washed and baked.


I want to bring you back to the admonition to 'stay cool', when preparing and working with laminated dough. It is critical to keep the dough refrigerated between rolling and folding sequences, and less than 85 degrees F when proofing. I turned the household thermostat to 70 degrees when I was working with the dough, and made quick work of each task.

Nothing is more compelling than a visual of a dough that was unfortunately exposed to too high of a heat in proofing vs the dough I was able to keep cool during my work with it at home.

Notice a difference? The home-baked croissant is on the right in the first picture, and the pain au chocolat on the left in the second picture. The others were made in class and teach us the lesson of proofing at too high a temperature resulting in melting of the butter within the dough.



I think Chef Osborn provided us a great service teaching us the techniques of preparing the dough and shaping it, and most importantly the special care the luscious laminated dough requires. I hope she'll be pleased with what I took away from her instruction and I know I'm quite pleased with how my finished products tasted this Sunday!


Making laminated breads is time consuming, there's no question. Yet, I will make this recipe and Chef Osborn's brioche again. There's simply nothing like the flavor!

Keep trying new things and enjoy the journey.

Buttermilk

Back from Class; Rich Doughs, Part Un-Brioche

It's been quite a while since I went to a proper cooking class, but yesterday I attended one at the Whole Foods Culinary Center here in Austin. Under the patient guidance of (pastry) Chef Amy Osborn, fifteen of us gathered around to learn the preparation of a 'rich' bread dough, brioche, then shape and bake it in three different possibilities. (Next week is Rich Doughs, Part Deux-Croissant)

Brioche comes from the old French language meaning 'knead'. While the master dough ingredients are basically the same, the shaping varies across regions and the utility can be sweet to savory depending on additions. The dough is called 'rich' because it contain eggs and butter, and usually milk---all lending fat which creates a rich, tender crumb.

The dough recipe begins with creating a sponge, a mixture of liquid (e.g. milk), yeast and flour. After the sponge has risen (proofed) in a warm, damp place, the additional flour, eggs, sugar, salt and butter are added. The dough is then allowed to proof again until doubled, punch down then refrigerated for at least 8 hours then shaped into any number of possibilities.

The staff at Whole Foods had prepared one full recipe of dough for us to use in class, and we all made a recipe of our own to bring home and play with the next day.

The first preparation we tried was using about 12oz of the whole dough recipe to make a pan of 8 individual cinnamon raisin rolls. I haven't worked with rich doughs much and the difference in texture with the basic (lean) yeast bread doughs, the sheer buttery-ness (sp)of the dough, was the first thing I noticed. One needs to make sure the dough has been stored cold and is worked quickly for shaping lest the fat begin to melt and effect the crumb later. For the cinnamon rolls, we took the portion of dough and flattened it out with the heel of our hand, moving from the middle outward until a rectangle was formed. The dough was sprinkled with cinnamon-sugar and dotted with raisins. The raisins were gently pushed into the dough. Starting from the long side, jelly-roll fashion, the dough was rolled into a log. The log was then marked in the center, then each half marked into two halves, then halved one last time. Once cut, we ended with 8 pieces. The dough was placed into a pan, cut side up (visualizing the pinwheel of cinnamon and raisins), and nudged in next to each other. I remember learning from Shirley Corriher, in her biscuit discussion, that placing the pieces of dough next to each other encourages them to rise up tall, rather than spread out thin and flat. Once baked the rolls were drizzled with a simple icing of confectioner sugar, milk, orange zest and vanilla. Naturally, one could prepare rolls this way with any variety of sweet or savory fillings. I want to try figs and goat cheese, and orange zest with dried cranberries.

Next we took a 16 oz portion of the dough to make rectangular rolls that resemble those sold in stores and often called Parker House rolls. Again the dough was quickly rolled into a log shape, and cut into eight equal pieces. Each piece was rolled into a smaller log the length of the width of a traditional loaf pan. Each piece was nestled into the pan, forming a raft of logs along the bottom of the pan. The dough was allowed to proof again for about 20 minutes. Just before putting the pan into the oven, we performed a maneuver with a sharp pair of shears that allowed us to cut each individual log of dough in half. This is rather hard to explain or envision, but you will understand when you see the final product in the 'group photo'.

The final preparation with the master dough was the renowned brioche a tete (with a head). We used the small, individual portion sized fluted pans.

To bake these you need to portion a small ball (the head) and a larger ball (the base) of dough. The dough is rolled until smooth with any seam lines winding up on the underside. The larger ball is placed in the pan and gently pressed in so that it sits snugly against the fluted edged. the smaller ball is rolled with pressure on one side so that a thin neck begins to form. With a finger dipped in egg wash, a hole is made onto the center of the larger base and then the smaller ball dropped in neck first. Again, though difficult to explain, we used our finger to tuck and stuff the neck down into the hole we'd created. The head is then pressed gently to secure and flatten it. Eggwash is very important as a last step to act as a glue holding together. Still, if the head rises during baking and appears lopsided, there's no harm.

So, here's a group photo of my three attempts in class.










As luck would have it, last week I ordered a set of brioche pans from King Arthur flour. (They are on sale right now ;-)) So today as I contemplated which shape to create with the dough I brought home from class, I decided to use the new pans. There are 4 of them, 5 inches wide. After searching the web, I decided that Gruyere cheese would be a nice addition, as my taste today is for a savory bread. I found that a 6 ounce portion of dough and 1/4 cup of cold grated cheese was just about perfect for each 5 inch brioche a tete. I flattened out the dough first, sprinkled on the cheese then gently pushed it into the dough. Then I folded the dough in half (short end to short end) then began tucking under the edges in a clock-wise fashion until I had a ball. Then I pinched off a quarter size of dough for the head, and proceeded on with assembly as we did in class.

Voila! You will notice I have already eaten half of one. :-)










I still have a bit of the dough remaining, so I will think about another creation.

It was good to be back in a classroom setting, learning from another chef gracious enough to share their knowledge. Friend of the blog, Chef Packwood asked me 'what did you learn?'.

A lot, and some of it was in addition to preparing the dough and the various shapes. First, when proofing dough, moisture aids the process. I have been baking breads with a pan of water on the bottom rack for quite some time. And, I have been proofing dough in my oven, with only the oven light on for some time. So, from now on, I'll place a pan of warm water in the oven when proofing.

(A note about using the oven for proofing--I am lucky to have two ovens in my kitchen. So one can be turned off, with only the light on, for proofing, while the other preheats for baking. Once proofed, dough needs to be moved rather immediately into the preheated oven. Chef Osborn suggested the top of a recently run or running clothes dryer. Wherever you proof the dough, it is best to be between 70 and 90 degrees, and 100 is probably ideal. Higher temperatures can retard then kill the yeast. Of course I dream of having a professional Proofing Box in my kitchen one day.)

I've grown quite comfortable in make yeast doughs using my KitchenAid mixer with the dough hook attachment. Kneading is just something for which I still don't think I have the proper feel. Yet, in older cookbooks that don't offer a 'if using the mixer' version for the kneading, I have always assumed 10 minutes by hand was the same as 10 minutes with the mixer. Wrong; only about half the time is needed with the mixer. If you are wondering, food processors for making dough, even with the dough blade didn't get much of a smile from Chef Osborn. The mixer with a dough hook is the tool of choice.

I've always known a convention oven cooks food faster, and theoretically more evenly as the heat air circulates in the oven. We baked each of our three preparations at 350 degrees on the convection setting, but Chef Osborn encouraged us to watch and turn our bread to overcome hot spots in the oven and ensure even baking. The Whole Foods' kitchen has beautiful KitchenAid ovens, and we still had to turn our bread during baking. Chef Osborn suggests an adjustment of 25 degrees less if baking with the convection setting. So in the case of the brioche, 350 on a convection setting and 375 on a standard bake setting.

Salt is a retardant to yeast and may even kill it. So when adding it into a dough recipe, mix it in the flour, or another ingredient--just don't pour it directly onto the developing yeast or sponge.

'Short' crusts and doughs get the name from the effect of the fat in the mix. Fat breaks the strands of protein (gluten) into short strands and creates a place for the formation of the billowy spaces in the crumb. The tighter the gluten strands the finer, tighter the crumb.

Chef Osborn had us use melted (unsalted) butter as the prep for each pan we used in baking. Eventhough the dough was plenty buttery. She explained that most cooking sprays leave a residue on the surface of pans, so avoids using it. Someone in the class said this was due to the silicone in the sprays, and that there is one organic brand coming into availability that contains none. Regardless, I have a baking sheet with an odd, sticky brown residue on it that doesn't seem to respond to any cleaning method I have used. So, no more spray on pans used in baking for me.

Finally, the real pearl for me was an answer to a question I have had since a cooking vacation in Provence with my mother. While there we visited a wonderful bakery. Chef Thiery explained that his starter contains no commercial yeast but is a decades old living yeast made from fruit and handed down from his father to him. My mother researched this at length on our return. Yet, I don't think she or I ever found a good guide of how to try this sort of project. So I asked Chef Osborn. She suggested Nancy Silverton's Breads from La Brea Bakery, recalling that there is (at least) a recipe for creating a yeast from grapes. So of course, you know what I will be buying next-a copy of that book. I'm happy to see that Julia and Nancy spent some time together in the kitchen. I see that Nancy uses All Purpose flour for her brioche, but we used Bread flour in Chef Osborn's class.

Normally I would pass along the recipe we used in class, but I didn't ask Chef Osborn if I may share it. Also, so much of what we learned was hands on manipulation after the dough was made. In lieu of the recipe we used in class, I'll offer suggestions. If you have Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, a recipe and wonderful illustrations begin on page 84 of Volume II (original publication). A search at Food Network brings up a plethora of savory and sweet brioche doughs and preparation versions. Finally, though I have not tried this recipe and methodology I am interested in this 'short-cut' version from Cook's Illustrated.

I was pleased to realize how much I have learned about baking in the past year, especially about flour, the various protein amounts in each type and what they will produce. Chef Osborn talked to us about this and all of my classmates took notes about types, uses and brands. I was simply listening during this portion of the class because I already knew what she was teaching. I did however pipe up when brands were being discussed. King Arthur (whose flours I also appreciate and use religiously) seemed to be the only national brand up for discussion. Well, I wouldn't be a daughter of the South if I hadn't raised my hand and mentioned 'White Lily'. I'll leave Adluh for another day!

If you are interested in learning something new in the kitchen, I encourage you to look in your community. Many chefs in local restaurants offer classes, as do larger grocery stores, community colleges and universities. Its enlightening to pick up new information and to meet others who also enjoy the world of food.

Finally, Happy Father's Day to all of the fathers out there. We especially think of "Big Russ and Luke", the father and son to Tim Russert. This nor any other Sunday will ever be quite the same without Tim.

I hope this day has been filled with affection, family and of course the very best tastes of life.

Buttermilk

Generation to Generation

I received a wonderful email from my sister-in-law this weekend. It seems that my niece and her friends decided to stage their own version of "Iron Chef America" using only the ingredients on hand in the kitchen. Now I would have loved to have been part of that competition! I am even more pleased to know that the hobby our collective family enjoys is decidedly being passed to the next generation.

When I was young, I was always drawn to the kitchen, what was being prepared, the aromas, the mystery of the covered, simmering pot. Yet, sometimes it was best to stand out of the way and be a silent observer. Whether this was grandmothers trying to orchestrate a large celebratory meal, or a mother trying to get dinner on the table after working all day and hoping to avoid the stereo harangue of 'Mom, when can we eat?'.

Interestingly enough, my mother, nor her own mother often had the time to teach their daughters how to cook. Yet, all three of us enjoyed cooking and in our family always cook(ed) to favorable reviews. I remember the luscious, juicy rare legs of Clemson University lamb and standing rib roasts my maternal grandmother prepared, and as I have previously written, her salty, sweet and crispy chocolate chip cookies. My paternal grandmother's kitchen was always filled with a reflection of the seasons of Southern bounties. Her deviled crab, made from fresh crab painstakingly picked from catch originating in the Coosawhatchie River in her front yard were a true labor of love. My mother's corned beef hash, coconut bunny (birthday) cakes, and Dill bread stand out in my mind more than anything. All of these wonderful memories, and yet I was nearly always an observer in the preparation. So we move on to the current generation.

Last Christmas, I gave the aforementioned niece a creme brulee kit (ramekins and bain marie) and kitchen torch. I also gave her a vanilla bean. So last weekend, in addition to the challenge of preparing a chicken entree, the girls moved on to creme brulee. My niece has a particular love of creme brulee. Several years ago, she gave the pastry chef a run for his/her money at a Ritz-Carlton brunch. The dessert table was stocked with an amazing array, including creme brulee. Yet when we made trips to the table, demand oddly seemed to outdo supply. At one point, my niece disappeared from our table. We found her underneath the dessert table with a creme brulee in each hand.

By all reports my niece's creme brulee turned out quite well, and I wish I could have tasted it. It is a family favorite and something we all try periodically. However, a question arose last weekend. 'How do we use the vanilla bean?'. That's a good question. One has to slice it open and carefully scrape the tiny pods out with the tip of the knife.

I am a very visual learner and generally assume others are as well. I could talk someone through the process but feel pictures would be additive. Thankfully, I am saved the acrobatics of trying to complete the process and take pictures all at the same time, because I found pictures at the Food Network site. I thoroughly endorse their suggestion of storing the pod in a separate container of sugar. Vanilla scented sugar is sublime, in small doses, of course. A few years ago I found a product at Williams-Sonoma that eliminates the need to buy pods and manually scrape them, with the vanilla seeds already nicely extracted and jarred as a paste for your convenience.

Perhaps as we grow so passionate about something, we feel inspired to teach others in hopes of planting a seed of interest. Or perhaps we're more interactive these days, and the kitchen is now recognized as a gathering place, not limited or restricted to simply getting dinner on the table as another task. I know we don't have any more time these days; maybe our attitudes are changing. We gather in the kitchen, enjoy the conversation and working together toward something we will all enjoy. At least that's how I like to imagine it, and I am awfully proud of my sister-in-law and my niece. As my mother would say 'you've done my heart proud'.

One final note worth mentioning. When I think of creme brulee, I always think of our friend Chef Will Packwood's recipe. The addition of fresh orange zest is simply not to be overlooked. Like many, I am still trying to cobble a 'life without Cibo' together. There's talk of a support group. We go on, but we are not the same. (Honestly, how's a girl supposed to get back to Italy, even if in her mind?) So it seems rather bittersweet and ironic that in the just released issue of Food and Wine magazine, Will and Cibo are praised yet again. I know one day the stars will align just right, and Will will be back taking care of us as only he can.

In the meantime, I'm rewarded to know that the genes from my family's collective pool are expressing themselves in the next generation. We shall never go hungry for the gift of food and family. I hope it is the same for all of you and those around you.

Buttermilk