The 7 Lives of Bread

Published by Wednesday, September 4, 2013 Permalink 0


The 7 Lives of Bread

by Jean-Philippe de Tonnac

Translated from the French and adapted by Jonell Galloway. Cliquez ici pour la version française.

If you ask an artisan bread baker who is passionate about his work from where he derived his passion, he or she will almost invariably reply, with no hesitation, that it arose out of the “mystery of the fermentation.” Did you know that bread is the result of an alcoholic fermentation, and the baker therefore actually manufactures alcohol? Now how does that come about, you might ask?* (If you’re interested, read the very technical footnote below.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not really surprising that a bread baker shares the wine maker’s penchant for the processes of “alteration,” “deterioration,” and “transformation,” which make them both somewhat sorcerers, metaphorically speaking. While a baker talks about bread fermentation, the wine maker continually refers to “maceration,” and the cheese maker to “maturation.” But whether it consists of alcoholic or lactic fermentation, we are still talking about transubstantiation, a sort of “sacrament,” which creates an aura without parallel around these “artists”. They are aware of this, and they know it is at the very heart of their art. Bread baker, cheese maker, wine maker: they all fight the same battle, that of transformation of food, of true metamorphosis.

When does dough become bread?

At the same time, at what point in this long sequence of processes does the product we actually consume merit the name “bread”? This is not an easy question.

In most of our minds, bread is a loaf or a baguette; it is ciabatta in Italy and pumpernickel in Germany. In Iran, they call it sangak, in Denmark, rugbrød, in Jamaica, bammy, eaten straight out of the oven.

Can we call the fat roll of dough after kneading and shaping or left to rise “bread”? Is the dough left to ferment in the dough trough not already bread?

The large sacks of flour that the miller delivers every morning, are they not, in some ways, already bread? Is a grain that we mill, or even a seed that we plant, not bread? Is leftover bread, bread we let dry, whether on purpose or not, and that we use to make croutons for a thick winter’s soup that we lap up like a Jacques Brel song, not also bread?

This 7 Lives of Bread column will explore every facet of bread, walking you through all the phases of transformation, from seed and grain to the end product you savor.

The 7 Lives of Bread will trace the life of a loaf of bread, from its “birth” to its “death”. Bread is therefore:

  1. The grain prepared for milling.
  2. The flour that results from milling.
  3. The dough that seals the coming together of flour and water, a meeting that starts the fermentation process.
  4. The dough roll that is detached from this initial bulk of dough, and then starts down its own individual path.
  5. The dough roll when it is baked in the oven.
  6. The bread we choose at the bread bakery, or the bread we make ourselves.
  7. Stale bread, that can be baked again (the term “biscuit” means literally, in French, “cooked twice”, in the spirit of Melba toast) so as to conserve it for future use.

The latter is typically the bread of sailors and nomads. The Greeks – great seafarers — are given credit for having invented the double cooking process.

The 7 paths: in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread

In the 7 Lives of Bread, we will explore all seven paths of these seven “lives”. If fermentation is at the very heart of bread baking, it can also be considered that all steps – from the cultivation of wheat and milling to the actual bread making itself – are active participants in the transformation process.

This concept is aptly put in Genesis 3:19: In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou [art], and unto dust shalt thou return.

Bread is therefore to be taken in like mother’s milk, earned with the sweat of our brows. Symbolically, it is interesting to attempt to understand why bread has a price, the price of transformation or of conversion: the bread changes to the same degree as the man or woman who makes it.

If we look at it in this light, for ten thousand years now, it is as much bread that has shaped humankind as it is the hands of women and men who have shaped bread. The realization of this reciprocal shaping and, through it, conversion is the starting point of this column.

*The chains of starch (complex carbohydrates, which along with gluten constitute the essence of the endosperm or starchy kernel and quantitatively speaking, the essence of the wheat grain), under the action of enzymes or amylases, are broken down into simple glucose (C6 H12 O6), which is, in turn, converted by yeast or enzymes into either carbon dioxide (2CO2) and ethanol or ethyl alcohol (2C2 H5 OH) and energy.
 
Jean-Philippe de Tonnac is editor of the Dictionnaire Universel du Pain or Universal Dictionary of Bread, published in French by Éditions Laffont on October 16, 2010.
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Les sept vies du pain / The 7 Lives of Bread

Published by Wednesday, September 4, 2013 Permalink 0


de Jean-Philippe de Tonnac

Les sept vies du pain / The 7 Lives of Bread Click here for English version.

Si vous demandez à un artisan boulanger passionné par son métier de vous dire où s’origine sa passion, vous verrez que la plupart du temps, la réponse qui vous est faite a trait de près ou de loin au « mystère de la fermentation ». Saviez-vous que le pain est la résultante d’une fermentation alcoolique et que le boulanger est donc une sorte de fabricant d’alcool ? Comment cela ? Voyez la note *

Pas étonnant alors qu’il partage avec le vigneron ce goût des « corruptions », « dégradations », « transformations » qui fait d’eux des apprentis sorciers. Si le boulanger parle de « fermentation panaire », le vigneron évoque, lui, la « macération », quand, de son côté, le fromager mise sur l’ « affinage ». Mais qu’il s’agisse de fermentation alcoolique ou lactique, nous sommes bien rendu au lieu d’une transsubstantiation qui confère à ces artistes une aura sans pareille. Eux le savent et c’est là que se concentre l’essentiel de leur art. Boulanger, fromager, vigneron : même combat, celui des mutations et métamorphoses alimentaires.

Il est en même temps bien difficile de déterminer, dans la longue séquence de la panification, où se trouve le pain ? Le pain est, très probablement, cette grosse miche, ou cette baguette, ou cette ciabatta (Italie), ou ce pumpernickel (Allemagne), ou ce sangak (Iran), ou ce rugbrød (Danemark), ou ce Bammy (Jamaïque) qui sortent du four. Mais n’est-il pas aussi ce pâton posé sur le tour après façonnage ou laissé en repos dans le parisien ? N’est-il pas cette pâte laissée à fermenter dans le pétrin ou en bac (pointage en masse) ? N’est-il pas dans ces sacs de farine déposés le matin même par le meunier dans le fournil ? N’est-il pas, en amont, un grain qu’on écrase, voire même un grain qu’on sème ? Et en aval, un pain qu’on a laissé, intentionnellement ou non, sécher et qui termine ses jours dans une soupe épaisse dégustée, comme dans la chanson de Jacques Brel, avec des grands « slurp » ?

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Switzerland: Bénichon Mustard, A Fribourg Specialty to Welcome the Cows Coming Home

Published by Tuesday, September 3, 2013 Permalink 0


Switzerland: Bénichon Mustard, A Fribourg Specialty to Welcome the Descent of the Cows

by Jonell Galloway

 

Bénichon mustard is quintessentially Swiss. It is a specialty of the canton of Fribourg.

It is more like a spicy jam than a mustard, in the traditional sense of the word. Its ingredients give it a sweet and sour taste.

It is traditionally eaten with another Fribourg specialty, cuchaule, a light brioche-like sweet saffron bread, during an annual village fair to celebrate and “bless” the autumn harvest and bringing down the herds of cattle from the mountains. This is now held the second week in September.

There are numerous recipes, but they traditionally include mustard flour (or powder), extra-white flour, white wine, fortified wine, rock candy and water, to which cinnamon, star anise and whole cloves are added.

It’s really quite easy to make. I’ve translated the Bénichon recipe and adapted it.

Suggestion: Do this on a day when you’ll be at home all day, or soak the mustard powder over night and finish off the recipe the next day.

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Food Poetry: Carciofi, by Grace Cavalieri

Published by Tuesday, September 3, 2013 Permalink 0


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

by Grace Cavalieri

for Raffael Cavalieri

One by one things fall away,
everything but the sweet earth itself.
Already this year he has watched the nest’s
careful brush of twigs lose a summer song.

He leans his bicycle against the tree.
Tuscany never changes, they say, but the mountains
seem smaller, each season, as he goes north

toward Pietrasanta. Only carciofi remain the same, clustered
to the earth. Year after year, this time, the tough fruit
is left for the last of those who want it.

My grandfather picks them here, although he
is not a farmer, he knows where on the stem
to reach. A scholar who saw the world as
a work of art, he holds them like this,

carries them back to his small apartment
past the piazza, behind the University wall.
Pisa. Can you see the dirt on his hands, as he
cups them close, their hard skins,
dusty particles beneath his nails.

What moved him to hunger, and when, that night
we can’t know, but that he ate carciofi, the diary
reveals; a plant flavored with olive oil.
Maybe after the lamp was lit, a tiny flask

of oil was brought out, pressings
from a vat near Granoia. Adding
salt from a bowl, the mineral
makes a fragrance rise, enough to move him to
open the small window and, by luck, hear a nightingale.

Later he will lean over his drawings. But right now he
puts the finished leaves in a bowl. This is the man who
imagined the gas-driven tractor which would
someday ride the fields of uneven ground.

Tonight there is only the vision of a vehicle
in his head, for he feels refreshed after dining.
How strange to rest, brushing his hand across the
linen, smudging it, without thought.
ll paese della meraviglia. He will
visit the farmer again, take from his fields,

But for now the mind feasts on what the eye has
seen, villas with ochre walls, pink terra cotta roofs,
factories with old doors, the ride out of town
pedaling past olive groves, apple trees pinned against

fences, pruned grape vines ready to burst,
covers pulled taut over seeded ground, the sun
to the sea, peaceful snow on the mountains.
Everywhere he looks, the land ready for a new way to harvest.

————————————————————————–

This poem was originally published in Water on the Sun.

This poem was originally published in Ocho #8 (goss 183:: Casa Menendez) and Sounds Like Something I Would Say (Casa Menendez).

Grace Cavalieri is the author of several books, and produced plays. Grace edited, along with translator Sabine Pascarelli, The Poet’sCookbook; Recipes from Tuscany (Bordighera Press, 2009,) and The Poet’s Cookbook: Recipes from Germany (Forest Woods & Goethe Institut, 2010). Her new books are Navy Wife and Sounds Like Something I Would Say (Goss 183::Casa Menendez, 2010.) Previously published is Anna Nicole: Poems, winner of  the 2009 Paterson Award for Literary Excellence. She’ produces “The Poet and the Poem,” now beginning its 34th consecutive year on public radio. Her new play for children, ”Lena’s Quilt,” premiered in NYC libraries and museums, 2010 and is now running in the 2011 Harlem Renaissance Production in New York City.
 
Photo of artichokes courtesy of Xedos 4.
 
 
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Food Art: Fruity Cakes, by Meeta Khurana Wolff

Published by Monday, September 2, 2013 Permalink 0


 

 

Food Art: Fruity Cakes, food photography by Meeta Khurana Wolff

See more food photo compositions at Meeta K. Wolff.

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The Fundamental Interconnectedness of Wine, Food and Art

Published by Monday, September 2, 2013 Permalink 0


The Fundamental Interconnectedness of Wine, Food and Art and Just About Everything Else That’s Good

Jonell Galloway, The Rambling Epicure, Mindful Eating, Spontaneous Cuisine, Editor of The Rambling Epicure.by Jonell Galloway

From the archives

As Shelly Butcher so aptly said in her article “Welcome to the Borscht Belt, exploring the ‘fundamental interconnectedness’ of all things food,” there is a fundamental interconnectedness in food and it can extend beyond the bounds of food, to things related to art de vivre, wine, aesthetics and the whole ambiance, as the French might say. I think most of us would agree that the French and Italians do it best in the Western world, and we all busy ourselves trying to imitate them. Once the bond is made through food and wine, it often remains and blooms into something bigger and more far-reaching.

 

My very special story is about how my husband Peter White and I met David Downie and Alison Harris.

My husband is a master at planning trips. He always chooses the perfect B&B, which often happens to be a castle or palazzo or some kind of wonder, with an idyllic view, and of course a long list of perfect restaurants to go along with it.

This summer we took the children to Burgundy for a week, and while in Beaune, where we were staying at one of his perfect B&Bs, Les Jardins de Loïs, a little paradise right in the heart of the city, I picked up a book called Wine Food Burgundy in the study. It’s a guidebook, but quite frankly, if you love good writing like we do, you can read it for the pure joy of style. Over the next few days, every time my husband put it down, I picked it up, and vice versa. I won’t say we fought over it, but we both kept our eye on it at all times, as if it were a precious gem we had to keep watch over.

When we returned home to Geneva, I promptly looked up the book and the author, David Downie, and wrote a comment on his site.

The next day, two amazing things happened. First, I realized that I had stupidly left my jewelry box at Aux Terrasses in Tournus. Secondly, the owner of Loïs telephoned my husband to say that the writer of Wine Food Burgundy wanted to contact us. He and his wife were spending the summer in their country house near Cluny (and near Tournus). And the most amazing part of it all is that since we had to drive back to Tournus to get my jewelry, we decided it was in the stars. Somebody somewhere meant for us to meet.

So Peter and I drove to Tournus, had a lovely lunch with David and Alison at Aux Terrasses, and we’ve been in contact ever since.

Here’s David’s version of our meeting.

 

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Food Art: Red, White and Food, by Meeta Khurana Wolff

Published by Monday, September 2, 2013 Permalink 0


 

 

 

Food Art: Red, White and Food, by Meeta Khurana Wolff

See more food photo compositions by Meeta at Meeta K. Wolff.

Meeta K. Wolff’s Bio

Meeta Khurana Wolff is a freelance food photographer, stylist and writer, currently living in the culturally rich city of Weimar in Germany with her German husband and their 8-year-old son, where she enjoys preparing multicultural, home-cooked meals using fresh organic ingredients. When she is not styling, photographing or writing about food, Meeta loves to travel the world, exploring new cultures and capturing it all on camera. The unique mood that Meeta creates in her food photography is also found in her travel, still life and landscape photography.

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Bollywood Cooking: Mutter Paneer

Published by Monday, September 2, 2013 Permalink 0


Bollywood Cooking: Mutter Paneer

by Meeta Khurana Wolff

Mutter paneer is an all-time favorite of mine. This popular North Indian dish is often found in Indian restaurants around the world, but nothing compares to the way my mother would make it.

Mutter paneer is basically a flavorful vegetarian dish made of soft homemade Indian cheese called “paneer”, which is lightly pan-fried, then added to a spiced gravy with peas and tomatoes.

I’ve adapted my mother’s recipe over the years and instead of a thin gravy, I have created a creamier version, with an intense, fruity-flavored tomato sauce which coats the soft homemade paneer.

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