Posts Tagged ‘pizza margherita’

Sesame Batard filled with Baek, (white) Kimchi

 

Springtime to me is all in the crunch, the crunch of a fiddlehead fern and the spring ramp, the crunch of the asparagus and don’t forget the crunch of a great crust on a springtime bread.

 Last weekend I baked alot of stuff to sell at the Athens Farmers Market and was unable to take many photo’s because my tent kept blowing away. I was able to carry out a concept based on a wierd idea to introduce crunchy kimchi into some bread that was slit open like a gutted lizard. The problem with this concept is moisture. Any kimchi is bound to soak the hardened gluten strands of any fired-up bread. Enter some fabulous local chevre from the great cheese makers at Integration Acres, like the dollops of chevre on the pizza al metro, (above) with ramps, tomato and provolone.

                 

So along with the “Sunny-side-up” croissants that Jake the baker made with an almond pudding and apricot, (left) and the traditional Pizza Margherita, (right) I crashed forward into the hinterlands of bread sanity, until I found it.

 A great insane loaf of Asian deliciousness! Now, first the kimchi.

    

I first cooked an amazing amount of napa cabbage and kohlrabi with salt. After they became acceptably limp, I rinsed with cold water and rung them out like the laundry. I then introduced some garlic, rice vinegar, pickled Jeruselem artichoke and turnip and the rest of my pears and apples that have been “red kimchi’d” for at least three months- sweet, spicy and naughty- funky to say the least. After one day, this white kimchi didn’t really “have it goin on”, so I added alot of lime and lemon juice, cumin seed and the best thing ever- pickled cayenne peppers from Cowdery Farms! To this I made a dough of black and white sesame, Korean pepper powder and cilantro.

 

Above is the video of our crazy baking and pizza frenzy at 3 a.m. in Athens, Ohio. I do have to endure bumping into delivery drivers and pizza makers at this busy time on a Friday night at Ohio Univerisity.  Here I am rolling up these Asian batards before proofing.  (Don’t worry, I took my hat and beard net off for this video, whatta ya think, we’re some hill-jacks from…Athens, Ohio?)

 

After these great batards were proofed, baked and cool, I slit them and filled them with the Integration Acres chevre, (fresh goat cheese), that I mixed with fresh chopped ramps, mushroom stock and Chinese five spice. This enabled me to stuff the white kimchi in the loaf without turning it to mush.

 I sold out of all forty batards within an hour then thought that I wanted to take one home…dang.

 

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?