Here is a video of my baking effort late in September. Please excuse the spaciness of my repertoire. Adding to the fact that there were some early customers crawling all over me, I sometimes encounter what I apologetically call “Bakers Brain.” It’s when I’ve baked all night and cannot remember some of the ingredients in my bread. (much less my own name.)
I failed to mention that the opening mushroom schiacciata has Fontina cheese on it as well as thyme, garlic and black truffle oil. The first ladder bread with cilantro, corn and pablano’s also includes some fab chorizo that I made with local King Family Pork. Yum.
I love making baguettes. In my warped mind, I find solice in the creation of each long baton that takes an annoying amount of time. I can’t help but think of the metalsmiths of long-ago Japan who made the Samurai swords by folding and folding without complaint. Their final product was so strong that it cut through metal.
After an hour of folding baguettes, time becomes taffy-like and the task itself becomes very relaxing. At 3:30 a.m., it gets a little lonely and I miraculously turn into a Buddist Monk on top of a mountain in Nepal. It is then that I actually start naming my “leetle, long friends,” with names like “Mack,” “Pierre” and “Tin Tin.”
I still have alot to learn about breads, but most of the time I let the bread tell me what it needs. There are just too many people out there with strong convictions and beliefs of “what you should do” or “never do.” I like to do what is fun, different and tastes great; you gotta problem wit dat?
Here is a video of some breads we sell at Avalanche and how I fold, score and cook some eight-ounce baguettes with local spelt flour. Oh, I hope no one gets offended by my strong French accent while I work these baguettes. It’s a tick I have, (you should hear me when I make Yugoslavian cabbage bread.) Yes, that is an Ancho chile, dark chocolate and bacon batard on the end.