Posts Tagged ‘ohio’

Spinach Schiacciata with Crust of Jeruselem Artichoke, Bacon, Cilantro and Ancho Chili

Last week I made a batch of bread and filled the dough with King Family Farms Bacon, Patterson ancho chili’s, fresh cilantro and some gnarly Jeruselem artichokes, (sunchokes,) that one of my favorite organic farmers, Ed Perkins dug up for me. I was proud to create a bread like this with such stellar local ingredients grown by great people.

              

I cut the ancho peppers and added them to a pan with whole strips of bacon and passed them through my 475 degree pizza oven for nine minutes, then I added the sunchokes for another nine minutes after cutting them in large chunks and holding them in lemon water so they wouldn’t turn brown. I had to be careful to not cook the chokes too much or they would turn to mush.

Photo: 3 am and the first of many stellar Jerusalem artichoke, ancho chili, cilantro and bacon fougasse are poppin'  see ya tomorrow!

The fougasse I made after letting this dough mature for 26 hours. I then egg washed the dough, cut and formed the dough and let it proof for another hour before firing it up in my conveyor pizza ovens while smiling my fleshy, old man smile as these beauties came out,  (above.)

                                              

For my pizza lunch, I cut a nine-ounce piece of the dough right after mixing and let it proof in a ball for two hours, (really not enough time for a great dough, but I had mixed 30 pecent flour with a 70 percent pre-ferment so it was maturing fast.) I pressed the dough out gently into a a football shaped schiacciata, (literally means, “flattened” in Italian) then topped it with a light coating of San Marzano tomato sauce, baby spinach and extra virgin olive oil. I baked it in a 475 degree oven for 12 minutes and…

                

This is what the leapording looked like on the bottom. The cell structure in the dough is small but irregular and because it is so young, the gluten has yet to wrap around the incorporated ingredients.

The oil from the bacon and chilies takes more than twenty four hours to get integrated into the dough, otherwise it looks like this, (above.) Although it wasn’t an “Epic Fail,” it could have been a much more mature integrated pizza dough.

I gobbled it up with glee nonetheless. The feeling of expectation when I bite into a pizza crust that is filled with chilies, sunchokes, cilantro and bacon is enough to make me happy for at least a few hours until the next small business crisis occurs.

 

 

Dead Dough Walking

 

This dough was made on December 13th, at 8 P.M. I put it on the farthest, coldest speed rack in my walk-in refrigerator and forgot about it. It was once a proud, strong dough made with a 60 percent pre-ferment from a naturally yeasted levain, high gluten flour with 14 percent protein, salt and diastatic malt. Now it sat like an old man flopped on a park bench. It’s best days were gone. The yeast had eaten the simple sugars over the past 12 days and the played-out gasses that initially pumped its chest out toward the sun, were gone.

 

 Yesterday, at 9 A.M. on December 26th, I pulled it out. It had been sitting in a state of cold fermentation for exactly 301 hours. I usually use this old dough as a nice “Kicker” to a new batch of ciabatta or batard dough, but as I pulled this dough off the tray, the condensation and extra virgin dribbled off and that beautiful, fruity smell of fermented wheat hit my nostrils screaming, “I’m still good damn it! BAKE ME!” So I did.

              

I gently formed a disc, then microplaned some Parmigiano Reggiano on the dough.

              

Then I dressed it with fresh basil and fresh mozzarella.

                

After the cheeses, I put some San Marzano tomato filets on the cheese for sweetness.

 

Then I got greedy and veered from the traditional path with some paper thin slices of La Quercia lardo that would melt all over this beauty.

Then I put it into a 550 degree oven and baked it for nine minutes. The leapording on the bottom was nice even though I baked it on a pizza screen.

The crumb was spectacular with nice, irregular open cells and a crispy crust with no gumline. Like any old man, it’s rise was slow and predictable unlike the unruly younger doughs, it nevertheless made up for this in complexity as every bit of the grain came out as a forceful wheaty-malty taste deep in the back of my throat and then left a caramel aftertouch in it’s wake.

But best of all, this old man who once sat floppily on a tray in my walk-in turned his twilight years into a treat for me and my staff.

Ain’t life grand?