tasting memories

Photo by Marta Bartolomei Edmonds.

Love of bread goes deep in our family. Abuelo Paco, my grandfather, would take daily early morning walks to the Comercio Bakery in Ponce, PR to get a warm loaf of bread, "pan de agua", fresh out of the oven. He would place the fresh, warm loaf in the pit of his arm and hug the bread as he carried it back home. He believed this preserved the heat. At home, Abuela Sara would serve strong cups of instant Taster's Choice coffee with milk that had been scalded and strained. Abuelo Paco would sit at the breakfast table and proceed to remove the soft core of the bread, roll it up into mounds and set them aside on his place mat to be discarded later. He only ate the crust, slathered in butter and dipped in hot coffee. Glistening pools of melted butter would swim around the surface of his coffee cup. There was something so right about this daily breakfast tradition.

Like Abuelo Paco, I walk to bakeries all over the city in search of good bread. I love rustic, brick oven breads with deep dark crusts and chewy insides with air pockets like swiss cheese. When I first learned about the Sullivan Street Bakery (back when the White Lily Tea Room served their semi di sesamo) I took several trips to Sullivan Street just to sample their breads. They make some of the best bread I have tried in the city.

When I read about Jim Lahey's No-Knead method of bread making in this blog and later in an article by Mark Bittman, I was ecstatic and eager to try it out for myself. Jim Lahey teaches his No-Knead method of bread making at the Sullivan Street Bakery and has posted the recipe on his website.

Since early spring I have been experimenting with the recipe. The results are an airy loaf with a well developed flavor and a crusty dark crust, wonderful every time. The trick is using a heavy pot like a cast iron dutch oven or a heavy clay pot with a lid. The heavy pot creates an environment that simulates the steam conditions necessary to make a crusty bread. This recipe is a super easy way to make bread and I encourage everyone to try it. Below you will find Jim Lahey's original recipe.

Note: The dough will become temperamental if you rise it in a kitchen with a temperature above the range suggested of 65-72°F. You will need to adjust the rising time or move your dough to a cooler room. During these hot summer months I have been rising the dough in a kitchen of over 85° and not adjusting the rising time and the dough becomes soupy and hard to handle. Even when this happens, though, the results are decent.

Photo by Marta Bartolomei Edmonds.

Jim Lahey's No-Knead Bread
3 cups (430g) flour
1 1/2 cups (345g or 12oz) water
1/4 teaspoon (1g) yeast
1 1/4 teaspoon (8g) salt
olive oil (for coating)
extra flour, wheat bran, or cornmeal (for dusting)
Equipment:
Two medium mixing bowls
6 to 8 quart pot with lid (Pyrex glass, Le Creuset cast iron, or ceramic)
Wooden Spoon or spatula (optional)
Plastic wrap
Two or three cotton dish towels (not terrycloth)

1. Mix all of the dry ingredients in a medium bowl. Add water and incorporate by hand or with a wooden spoon or spatula for 30 seconds to 1 minute. Lightly coat the inside of a second medium bowl with olive oil and place the dough in the bowl. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough rest 12 hours at room temperature (approx. 65-72°F).

2. Remove the dough from the bowl and fold once or twice. Let the dough rest 15 minutes in the bowl or on the work surface. next, shape the dough into ball. Generously coat a cotton towel with flour, wheat bran, or cornmeal; place the dough seam side down on the towel and dust with flour. Cover the dough with a cotton towel and let rise 1-2 hours at room temperature, until more than doubled in size.

3. Preheat oven to 450-500°F. Place the pot in the oven at least 30 minutes prior to baking to preheat. Once the dough has more than doubled in volume, remove the pot from the oven and place the dough in the pot seam side up. Cover with the lid and bake 30 minutes Then remove the lid and bake 15-30 minutes uncovered, until the loaf is nicely browned.

Makes 1 round loaf.

Photo by Angelica Bartolomei Edmonds, 2001.

Seven years ago I got a phone call from my boss, Julie Hoffman. I was at my father and stepmother's home in Webster, NY. My father had passed away five days ago after a year long battle with auto-immune hepatitis and a failed liver transplant. Carolina, Abuela Sara, Titi Sara, and Carolina's mom and brother were there. Inside Carolina's immaculate suburbian house we were all enveloped in a cloud of mourning and the early morning phone call was not unexpected as the past few days were filled with phone calls of people sharing their sorrow and well wishes. Carolina, my step mom, answered the phone and then handed it to me. It was clear to me that there was something wrong.

Julie proceeded to tell me that there was an attack on the World Trade Center and that Scott, my husband, had asked her to call me to tell me that he was okay. Scott worked in the World Financial Center, the buildings adjacent to the World Financial Center. We turned on the television and saw the terrorist attacks unfolding before our eyes: the airplanes striking the first and second tower, the people jumping from the smoldering buildings and finally the collapse of both towers. I walked in circles around the house as I watched this disaster unfold.

I frantically tried to get in touch with Scott but the phone lines were down. Eventually I was able to get a hold of him via email to his Blackberry. He was making his way from Lower Manhattan to pick Angelica up from school in the Upper East Side. That day, he was running late for work. As he emerged from the subway, the first airplane had already struck the first tower and he watched in disbelief as people struggled to get air and escape the raging inferno. Who knows what would have happened had he been on time to work that day.

My first instinct was to rent a car and drive to the city to pick up Angelica and Scott. After just having lost my father, the thought of loosing my daughter and husband was unbearable.

There is absolutely no food related to this memory. All I remember was how desperately I wanted to be with my family.

That day everything was uncertain. We are vulnerable, fragile living beings. That phone call and the day that ensued brought a greater sense of gratitude. Even as we mourn the loss of loved ones, I am thankful for all the experiences that make their way into memory, thankful for the love and delight shared between friends and family, thankful for all the lessons and the falls and thankful to be alive, sharing today with Scott and Angelica.

Plate by Jim Shack. Photo by Marta Bartolomei Edmonds.

Crisp air, epic sunlight and shorter days mark the Fall. Time to return to the earth and the warmth of home. Time for crisp fresh apples and juicy pears. Time to plan those visit to the farmers markets for warm apple cider, freshly fried doughnuts and pumpkin picking.

Bartlett pears are now in season and this week we've been working our way through a large bowl full of them. Earlier this week I made an easy pear tart that I will share with you in the coming days. Today I am making spiced pear butter with the rest. The methods I used are very similar to Grandma Zona's Apple Butter recipe. Making pear butter is a great way to preserve ripe leftover pears that you do not want to let go to waste. It's fantastic on bread or yogurt and can be enjoyed throughout the winter months.

Spiced Pear Butter
8 ripe Bartlett pears, quartered
1/4 cup water
4 tablespoons honey
1/2 cup sugar
2 sticks of cinnamon
2 slices of fresh ginger about 1/8" thick
12 whole cloves

1. Make pear sauce: Place quartered pears and water in a large heavy saucepan. Cover and bring to a slow simmer for 20 to 30 minutes. Remove from heat and pour the pear and liquid into a large strainer. Strain the pulp and discard the seeds and skin.

2. Return the pear sauce to the large heavy saucepan. Add sugar and spices. Bring to a slow simmer for 3 hrs or until the pear sauce has reduced to about half in volume. Remove from heat. Can the pear butter and let sit overnight at room temperature. Keep in a cool place for up to 3 months or refrigerate for up to 6 months.

Makes 5 cups.