I was fifteen, home alone and bored – so bored that I was flipping through some of the women's magazines my mother subscribed to. In one of them, I saw a recipe for English Muffin Bread. It looked easy, and all the needed ingredients were the kitchen, so I decided to make it.
No one had ever told me
that yeast was hard to work with, or that yeast breads were not a
good project for an inexperienced cook. If I'd known that, I guess I
wouldn't have tried it. But I didn't know. And the English Muffin
Bread turned out wonderfully.
Since then I've made
thousands of loaves of bread, hundreds of batches of rolls, masses of bread sticks and an uncountable quantity of whole-wheat pizza crusts. I'm not perfect at
it, and my results are not consistently good. But I've learned a thing or
two about yeast by now.
I know a lot of women and
men who are greatly accomplished with yeast and very comfortable
using it. I know others who are a little afraid of it. What I hope to
do here is alleviate those fears a bit.
Yeast is a single-celled
living organism. When dehydrated live yeast meets water and a simple
carbohydrate like sugar or potato starch, it starts generating carbon
dioxide gas, which makes bubbles in the dough so it will rise. This process also strengthens the dough by helping it develop gluten, while the yeast endows the finished product with its distinct flavor.
Several years ago my son
Adam put together a successful science fair project on the properties
of yeast. I'm going to share some of his results.
The basis of Adam's research was that yeast rises better under specific conditions. We wanted to evaluate two factors: the temperature of the water that the yeast is dissolved in, and the presence or absence of a sugar for the yeast to feed on.
Adam put the test ingredients in small bottles and used uninflated balloons to measure the amount of carbon dioxide each combination produced.
We expected that that the yeast that was dissolved in warm water and fed with a little sugar would rise best, and it did. But I was a little surprised to see that all of the samples produced enough carbon dioxide to visually puff their balloons.
I turns out that the modern yeast we find in stores today is pretty reliable. That doesn't mean yeast bread is a no-fail project. Other variables ─ insufficient kneading, too much flour, an unsteady oven temperature (keep the door closed!).
It takes a little practice to make really good bread, but at least at my house, the imperfect loaves that pave the path will get eaten anyway.
I turns out that the modern yeast we find in stores today is pretty reliable. That doesn't mean yeast bread is a no-fail project. Other variables ─ insufficient kneading, too much flour, an unsteady oven temperature (keep the door closed!).
It takes a little practice to make really good bread, but at least at my house, the imperfect loaves that pave the path will get eaten anyway.
Making bread is rewarding for me. When things go well, the dough feels good in my hands, smells good while it bakes, and tastes good when it's done. I like knowing that I can provide my family a healthy food choice, with no artificial flavors or chemical preservatives.
Of course, things don't always go well. I've had some problems to solve.
And I've had help solving them.
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For years I made eight loaves of whole-grain bread every week. When I became too sick to do that, some kind neighbors took turns bringing homemade bread every week, and Wes learned to make a few loaves to fill in the gaps.
Before too long I was up and trying. I didn't have the energy or strength to make eight loaves, but I found I could manage four, and that was almost enough. But not quite. I figured I could do one more without too much difficulty, and that would keep us in bread for a week.
This worked pretty well, but there was one little snag. It is easy to cut a chunk of bread dough into four pieces. But five was trickier. I thought I could do it, but one of the pieces was always ludicrously larger, and I'd pinch bits off it and add them to the smaller ones, and then the first one was too small, so I'd get the kitchen scale and weigh them, and do some bothersome mathematical calculations, and pinch and poke again until I decided they were close enough and put them in the pans.
Really, not a big deal.
Then one morning, as I picked up the knife to begin the sub-division process, I had an unexpected thought. "Maybe there's a better way to do this." As I stood there, I seemed to see a five-pointed-star-shaped cookie cutter moving down into the center of the dough. Then I saw five lines, each leading from one point of the star to the edge of the bread dough circle.
It was so simple, but also thoroughly brilliant. I recognized the cookie cutter as one I had in the pantry and brought it out.
It worked perfectly.
Some might say that in my hope for a solution, I simply came up with one. But they would be wrong.
Believe me, my friends ─ I am not that smart.
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It was Elisabeth's birthday, and I was making the soft white rolls that we enjoy on special occasions. The dough looked good, and felt good, and I left it in a warm corner to rise.
When I checked on it almost an hour later, I was dismayed to see that the dough was still a small, firm ball. I couldn't guess what had gone wrong, but it had not risen.
I looked at the clock and knew I didn't have time to start over. I stood staring helplessly at the bowl.
I went to my bedroom and knelt in the closet. I explained to my Heavenly Father that although I knew that the rolls were a small, even minuscule, thing in the grand eternal view, I had promised warm rolls to my daughter and I didn't want to let her down. I asked for help.
A sentence formed in my mind:
A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.¹
I pondered the thought for a moment. I was certainly dealing with a lump. And I still had yeast to leaven it. But wasn't it too late for that?
As I considered further, I had an idea. I went to the kitchen, put some warm water in a small bowl, and added yeast and a little sugar. When it became foamy, I mixed in some flour until it was a sticky glob, then threw the glob in with the dough I had made earlier. I used the mixer to combine the mess. I didn't know if the yeast would work, and I didn't have time to find out. I shaped two dozen crescent rolls, covered them gently, and set them in the warm oven.
I had done my best, and, there was nothing else I could do. Fifteen minutes later, I opened the oven and took a peek.
They looked good; full and puffy. I took them out and turned the oven on. We finished cooking the rest of the dinner and set the table while the rolls baked.
They were wonderful, gorgeous, and sweet.
(A lot like the birthday girl).
Then said the LORD unto Moses, Behold, I will rain bread from heaven for you; and the people shall go out and gather a certain rate every day, that I may prove them, whether they will walk in my law, or no.
(Exodus 16:4)
¹ Galatians 5:9
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