Posts Tagged ‘artisan bread’

Cilantro Cassidy and the Sundance Ham

For the bread of the week I’ve got an outlaw guaranteed to turn heads, with a taste that will make you smile. You’ll love the melding flavor profiles of lemon, smoky ham and fresh cilantro of this fougasse.

Avalanche General Manager Joel Fair showing off one of these great fougasse.

First, I took a butt-load of cilantro (stems and all) and threw it, unchopped, into a mass of 30 percent high-gluten flour, 40 percent poolish (made with 80 percent spelt flour), and 20 percent of my  Levain (or starter) that I fed for a week prior.

All I needed to complete this already wet dough was the 10 percent water, salt, commercial yeast for the kick, olive oil and a little help from an organic barley malt  to make this an Avalanche bread thrill.

The ham is from my friend Rich Blazer at Harmony Hollow farms. He’s got some awesome Heritage pork and hams and is an Athens Farmers Market stalwart, especially here in winter.

Okay Mr. Goon, so what does this bread taste like?

The first bite sends the spicy cilantro off his horse and into the mailcar.

Then the lemon zest blasts the safe into smithereens.

These strong flavors have the loot. The salty Sundance ham rides beside the railcar, with its meaty texture, and saves them both. Dag, whose shoes are those?

Altogether this bread releases a broad range of flavor: spicy, steely, salty and refreshing, all in a heavily-hydrated dough I’ve aged for two days, affording the gluten net to strengthen around the ham, zest and cilantro. This time also enables more gas to form, thus producing a killer crumb structure. (Joel’s checking it out below.)

Stop on by sometime to try this bodacious fougasse… but please don’t bring the Mexican Army.

Asparagus Stuffed Fougasse

This year, I’ve eaten mountains and mountains of these freakish, skinny spikes. They pop up everywhere, like those annoyingly smart kids in class with their arms up after every question. This fabulous springtime gift keeps on giving here in mid-May, and can be manipulated in many ways. Just don’t ask me how to manipulate the smell of asparagus urine. (I hear it’s genetic.)

I cooked about 75 of these fougasse for the Athens Farmers Market last Saturday and they were a real crowd pleaser. It’s called a “Stuffed Fougasse” (Foo-gaazzz) , mimicking an Italian calzone but French in origin. I, of course, have taken this idea on a peculiar path in my continuous effort to bastardize every recipe known to humans. This recipe is spectacularly Goonish in its richness and crunch. It can easily be put into your back pocket for ease of travel (depending on how large your ass is).

Stuffed fougasse in its vertically larval stage and after, in its beautifully transformed “butterfly-gasse” stage.

This asparagus fougasse is a folded package of 7-ounce dough stuffed with a pudding made of whole-milk ricotta cheese, sauteed leeks, blanched whole grain mustard seeds, Dijon mustard, chopped pistachios and grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. The key is to constantly taste the pudding mixture until it suits you. I then cover it with a little Gruyere. I do this because my convection oven turns the cheese pudding dark brown. The asparagus will cook beautifully for 7 to 10 minutes at 450 degrees on a parchment-covered upside-down cookie sheet that has been pre-heated.

(Note to buyers of commercially raised asparagus:  you may want to take a potato peeler and skin those corporate spears to make the asparagus less “bark-like” before cooking. See directions on this previous post.)

That is my insitefully meticulous recipe. For more, click on the video.