slow fermentation

"...though the 'sound of crust' sounds similar to the Zen koan "the sound of one hand clapping," there is also an importance difference. the attainment of the sound of the crust is like the culmination of a pilgrimage. that there is a sound that accompanies perfection is, in itself, a wonderful realization. such a sound is cathartic in that it lets escape, if even for a moment, the remembrance of the perfection that lies at the core of each of us. beauty evokes beauty, love evokes love, and the sound of crust evokes an image of our being in the process of becoming. the sound of crust is what we hear when everything comes together in those brief and too infrequent moments of pure love, pure beauty, and pure stillness. the sound of crust, then, is not quite the same as the sound of one hand clapping because crust is an outer sound, entirely of this world, the outer world. its connection with something inner is grace. the sound of crust is like an icon, not painted but baked, in which a window is briefly opened onto greater understanding..." --Peter Reinhart, Brother Juniper's Bread Book (this and other fancy titles to be found HERE! don't buy your books from amazon if you don't have to...)

Peter Reinhart, famed author of the Breadbaker's Apprentice among other myriad publications, began his work with bread as a monk in a monastery in Massachusetts decades ago. he writes about the link between bread and the Divine that was made apparent to him in his early baking days. obviously, much time and thought has gone into fleshing this out, as you can see above, but biases about theology and mainstream religion aside, his point is a well taken. that we can find the Divine (or the Universe, or the Major Plan, or God, or Whomever's name you'd like to add in) in the simplest rituals -such as bread baking- means that there is always the potential for illumination and revelation in any of the tasks to which we are truly connected. Reinhart and others emphasize the word "craft" which is a favorite word among some of my favorite people, and to this word i believe he subscribes the attitudes of tender dedication applied to a task that lights one up from the inside. this 'sound of crust' treatise seemingly can be applied to most anything one sits down to get up to their elbows in with love and tirelessness.

needing a dose of serious Illumination myself I applied myself to Chad Robertson's new(ish) book Tartine Bread which is an offshoot from the famed Tartine a bay area bakery we could all be so lucky to live near. Robertson's approach to bread, like Reinhart's, seeks to bring back the rituals of the slow rise, or slow fermentation. taking cues on the shortcomings of commercial yeast (its finished loaves tendency towards swift staleness, a flavor and crust that seem to be lacking) and the finicky schedules imposed on us by more medieval traditions that demand many hours of fermentation and bulky dough loads he has sought to bring about a renaissance of what French baker's call "the golden age" of bread baking. that is, bread made with the innovation of baker's yeast (versus the more traditional brewer's yeast leftover from beer brewing) and the slow, cool fermentation that results in a loaf with a burnished and singing crust, a creamy crumb and incomparable flavor. indeed, Robertson is wary of adding baker's yeast in at all, save for enriched doughs like brioche and croissant. the yeasts derived for the homemaker's version of country bakery bread is harnessed from the air. wild yeasts! especially those who delight in grape musk which one presents in the form of white wine that has been haunting the back of the refrigerator for a few too many weeks.

this slow fermentation demands absolute attentiveness, presence and patience. it also requires the baker to be responsive, intuitive and to use their instincts. following a bread recipes is never straightforward as we all live in places at different altitudes, with different water and different humidity. but with slow rise bread especially we are asked to respond to the bread dough as a living thing (which indeed it is) that has likes, dislikes and needs. the result, after many hours and slight oven burns does in fact give one a moment's pause, to listen to the singing of the crust and reflect on what can be done with flour, water, yeasts from the air, and patience.

in that same vein, more experiments with laminate dough are on their way, stay tuned.