James MacGuire

Finally, something contentious! First, a bit of history to put things into perspective ( Hubert, stp, au secours!): The baguette could not exist before certain conditions were in place, and this happened after the 1st world war- - Stronger flours - Widespread use of mixing machines - Steam-injected ovens - and above all, the general use of baker's yeast (only) to ferment the dough Although beer yeast ( to become baker's yeast) had been known for a very long time in France, it's general use began gingerly as a way of pushing the classic levain doughs along. Before yeast-only breads appeared, there was a long period during which levain de pate and other mixtures were used. Raymond Calvel remebers making pure levain loaves in summer and levain pushed with a bit of yeast in the winter as he was learning the trade in the Haut Languedoc. Calvel has also written of seeing Parisian bakers come to his region to demonstrate the use of baker's yeast using the straight dough process ( what little amount of baker's yeast recipes used in France were made by the poolish method, introduced in Paris by bakers from Vienna c 1825 ), and he remembers being fascinated, and went to Paris first to learn the trade, but then stayed on to teach at the Ecole Nationale de Meunerie (In Paris witnessed not only the introduction of the baguette, but also the Parisian croissant . viennese croissants were more of a rich croissant-shaped roll. Parisians had the idea of rolling the butter in as for puff pastry to make them flaky). The French had been used to large sourdough loaves which kept for many days, and frugal housewives would never serve on the day they were made because people would eat too much. Better flours, kneading machines , steam in the oven, and above all, bakers yeast permitted the production of lighter, crispier loaves. Consumers were fascinated by the crackly-crispy crust, and the overall delicacy of the result. longer,skinnier loaves - i.e. the baguette- began to be made to satisfy the demand for a greater proportion of crust. This new category of bread was called "pain de fantaisie" and at first was a purely Parisian phenomenon: the loaves were more delicate, more expensive, and perfect for conspicuous consumers because they had to be eaten the same day. Professor Calvel is quite clear that the golden age of this French bread ( the French have had good bread for a long time, but Voltaire never trapsed around wearing a beret with a baguette under his arm...) was between the two world wars. Kneading was done by machine, but at slow speed ( therefore sufficient, but not excessive), and the fermentation of the dough went on for three or four hours ( for a total production time of 7 or 8 hours). In this way, the resullts were indeed light and delicate but had character. A good baguette should be very yellow on the inside ( more about this soon), with large to very large holes, and (slowly fermented straight dough baguettes especially) allow the wheatty, nutty nuances of the flour to come shining through. Bakers have long endeavored to produce sourdough baguettes, but in my experience sourdough loaves do not spring well in long skinny shapes, and the crust softens and becomes rubbery. Above all, the assertive sourdough flavors mask the delicate wheatty flavors, and these days, after many years of working with poolish, I wonder if the baguette en direct might not be the best way to go. Calvel ( who is still around at 90) also witnessed the disaster of the modern baguette at the end of the 50's early 60's. One morning a baker named Abert had his kneading machine break down, and being a resourceful guy, he rolled-uo his sleeves and fixed it. When he turned it on, however, he realised that he had made a mistake, for it was working at double the speed. He made bread anyway, and to his amazement, the loaves were as light as manna (sp?) and the crumb was almost as white as snow. Ecco! the bad baguette. People were fascinated, and the new method conquered France, becoming generalised within a few years. The new baguette was also easier for bakers to produce, and to make things worse, machines were invented to divide and shape the dough to increase production, but which required atypically stiff, unfermented doughs. Unlike most food scientists, Calvel has always though of the taste of things, and he reacted against this new petrissage intensifie. Basically, the Calvel school finds two things critical for baguettes ( and for bread in general): -------- Unbleached flours contain carotenoid pigments, which give a nutty, wheatty flavor to the loaf. Too much high speed mixing destroys them, and when they're gone, they're gone. Too much mixing also changes the texture of the crumb, and the extra formation of the gluten strands permits shortening the fermentation of the dough. ---------- Long, cool fermentations lead to the formation of fatty organic acids which give flavor, texture, and keeping qualities to the finished loaf. Overmixing, stronger flours, and oxydising additives permit the drastic shortening of fermentation times. Put most simply, it is much better to knead little and ferment a lot than knead a lot and ferment little. Poolishes and other preferments permit the rejuggling of the fermentation schedule and this helps things, but we can't forget in these discussions that here, but especially in France, the economic pressures of running a bakery are daunting ( flour is cheap, but even 1,500 baguettes a day don't bring in that much cash). Add to this the long, strangr hours, the difficulty of finding emoloyees and the right flour, and instead of lamenting the sorry state of things or on the other hand start waving flags, we should rejoice every time we find a good baguette, be it here or in France. In my effort to answer a question about U.S. recipes with European flours, I tried to delve into the difference between the wheats and the milling practices. The more I look into it, the more I see that certain millers both here ond in France produce flours which, because of greater care in the overall process and, increasingly, the variety of wheat being milled, are producing results which are remarkably different from -- excuse the expression-- run of the mill. I hope that this tendency to go the extra mile ( mix those metaphores!) continues so that those who dismiss the baguette entirely, or feel that it must be boosted with sourdough or other "improvements" can retain an open mind until they finally taste the real thing, somewhere, sometime, with some luck. In recent months I have found a Canadian flour which has assuaged my fear that great baguettes cannot be made with Canadian flours, there certainly exist U.S. flours which fit the bill, and hope one day soon to conduct a controlled experiment/tasting against a French comtrol ( Stephen Kaplan, would you be interested?)

I have to agree that the flour is probably the most likely source of problems, and the first thing I would look into. Braids which melt together and a sagging effect indicate a lack of strength in the dough which besides the flour, could be the result of a lack of " fermentedness". Best results are usually obtained with longer, cooler fermentations. If there is no preferment involved ( i.e. dough made from scratch in one step) , the bulk fermentation of the dough should be three hours or so, folding the dough gently over itself about halfway through. Certainly, if the dough seems weak and sluggish, it would be best to let things ferment more before shaping. Look into the amount of yeast, which does seem on the high side, but also the temperature of your kitchen. If things are warmer and more humid than you're used to, than the dough will rise much more quickly, too quickly to gain the structure which is the result of longer fermentations. Another thing is that besides the possibility that the flour has lower gluten, or in fact as a result of this if it is the case, the amount of egg and liquids you are using might be too much for the flour and the dough too wet . The more gluten in a flour ( and, relatively speaking, North American flours have lots....) Thanks and good luck James

A few years ago, I spent some time with my great friend and mentor, Charles Barrier, at his country house in Ste-Maure, 30 minutes south of Tours ( yes, it's where thst cylindrical ash-coated goat's cheese is made and we ate it fresh in the morning and aged for lunch and dinner. The local butcher had a connection for veal liver as I had never, ever seen, and Barrier used to send some to Robuchon in Paris). We made bread one day in the house's 16th century oven, and although the bread was far from perfect, how could I not have been touched for life? Last weekend Jeffrey Hamelman and his wife Chiho constructed a Quebec style out door bread oven, and we went to help-out, and I had the same kind of deep feelings and am eager to return when it's ready to be fired-up. When I consider the question in more practical terms, I tend to agree with Raymond Calvel. There are two types of woodburning oven: ---- The more old fashioned wood-burning ovens have fires built in the oven itself, and once things are hot, the ashes, etc are removed and the floor cleaned so that the loaves don't become black with soot on the bottoms. The baking is then done with risidual heat, so the oven's initial hot temperature is suited for pizze and other items which are baked in a hot oven, and bakers had to time their production schedule in function of the oven's falling temperature. One the bread baking was done, housewives could bring Cassoulet, Alsatian Baeckoffe, the Quebecois Feves au Lard and lother long-simmered dishes to be baked, thus freeing themselves up for a morning of washing. Other uses included drying/sanitising down for pillows and comforters, and my friend Michel Catrice's mother used to bring her meringues to be baked. ------- More modern woodburning ovens are heated indirectly, that is, a fire is built in a fireplace which heats the bricks/stone indirectly, with a chiminy that eliminates the smoke. There is no contact, in other words, between the burning matter and the bread which is baking. The advantage is that more wood can be added on a regular basis. The problem with both possibilities is that there is no contact between the bread and the fire or smoke. So that to see a difference, as Calvel has written, " one would have to posess taste buds equipped with fertile imaginations". For this reaso, it is illegal in France to advertise wood oven bread in connection with indirectly heated ovens. As I said, I am fascinated by, and somewhat emotionally attatched to wood ovens, but feel personally that baking is complicated enough without the further challange of a wood oven. That said, if there were some way of conducting a controlled experiment and a blind tasting I would eagerly volonteer.

I haven't done much baking in home ovens, and feel that you might get a better answer from Susan Miller who runs the baking classes at King Arthur. That said, I have tried the following with okay results: ------- Place an oven stone on the top shlf of the oven in such a way that the bread will be baking midway between the top and bottom of the oven. Plac a thick cast iron frying pan on the shelf underneath, and preheat both at the same time as the oven itself. ------- When the loaves are ready to bake, slide them onto the stone and immediately pour 3 or so ounces of boiling water into the frying pan and close the oven as quickly as possible so that the newly created steam doesn't escape. The leave the oven door shut for at least 10 or 15 minutes for the same reason. The idea is that a reasonable amount of boiling water will vaporise on contact with the huge mass of hot metal ( cold water won't vaporise as easily, and too much water will drown things and the effect won't be the same. Alas, I have never achieved the same results as with a real hearth style baker's oven. Whatever you do, keep baking!

I apologise, for without accents, etc, I didn't realise that you were speaking abou the those little rather dense and somewhat candied little cakes made in the southwest of France. Alas, I have much to learn about them, and can only say that they are among a bunch of things which I have been meaning to get to.... The classic molds are made of thick metal, and it has only been since these things have been enjoying their fifteen minutes of celebrity that molds are being made out of that new fangled flexible material. I suspect that the new molds are less than ideal, and that home ovens do not maintain/retain enough sudden and sustained heat to achieve the desired dark bake and agreeably dense texture. Thanks for your patience James

Lesley: Thank you for getting me into this q+a ( I only hope that it doesn't get you into trouble. Puff pastry? ------- Some butter in the detrempe, it seems to me, is a good idea. I am not fond of feuilletage a l'envers, but the classic no-butter-in-the-determpe stuff can yield pretty good results. -------- yes, it seems to me that some gluten development is a good idea.... -------- But above all, remember that our tenaciously glutinous North American flours are very different from French flours. The whole idea of making puff pastry in two hours ( make the detrempe. rest for 1/2 hour, 15 minutes between the rollings+ foldings) just didn't seem to work. ------- Bottom line: let the determpe both rest and get very cold in the fridge for a good chunk. Add the butter, and do the tourage over the course of a day. Keep things very cold always. Give the ready to bake pieces a rest so they don't shrink. I hope this helps, and once again, Thanks, James

There are a bunch of reasons why: ----- The team unit in our old and defective oven never quite worked the way it was supposed-to, so that at times even moderate amounts of steam had, curiously, the same effect as too much steam: the slashes were sealed shut and the loaves under-developed -------- I have never been a fan of very steamed, very shiny loaves ________ Garfield Peters did a terrific job shooting the photos, but the budget was minimal, we were in a rush, and all we could do is do what we could. The original French photos were ( understandably) unacceptable to the U.S. publisher and the task was dropped into my lap ( gratis). As a result, the French edition sported lousy photos of many great loaves, but the U.S. edition had some pretty good shots ( once again, thanks Garfield!) of loaves which were at times less than perfect The whole book project was a labor of love ( you would laugh if you found out how much money we made), but Ron Wirtz did a wonderful job and remains a great friend, it seemed a good idea at the time, and on sunny days, still seems so. Thank you. There has been no feedback from the book, and your question/comments are a nice surprise. Best wishes, James

"They seek it here, they seek it there, those foodies seek it everywhere, is it in heaven or will we find it in hell, that damned elusive club sandwich"............ I must say that as a commis garde-manger at the Montreal Ritz Carlton (apparantly Escoffier was present at the opening...) c1971 there was no such angst, soul-searching...... Sandwiches are difficult, because truly artisanal breads can seem too dense and chewy when used for a sandwich full of other chewy things. That said, you might want to seek-out a pan bread ( American=pullman loaf) which has been fermented using a "sponge". All too often, pan breads are not given the respect they deserve. Instead, they are quickly fermented using a straight dough, all too often using excessive high speed mixing and oxydising dough " improvers". The added acidity of a sponge ( or at least a longer straight dough fermentation) will give structure to the finished loaf, so that it won't be too mushy and yielding. 15% to 20% whole wheat flour will also add some structure, and improve the keeping qualities as well as the additional water that doughs with a bit of whole wheat will absorb ( part of the problem of bad bread is that if you try to "age" it somewhat so that it can be toasted, it is completely finished by the next day). I am truly shooting from the hip with the following guidelines, but remember that they're only guidelines: Sponge: 250 g Unbleached untreated white flour 5g fresh yeast 5g salt 150 ml water, approx. ----Knead, cover, and allow to ferment for 3-4 hours at room temperature, or 1 hour at room temperature and overnight in the fridge Dough: 600g white flour 150g stoneground whole wheat flour 15g fresh yeast 15g salt 1 whole egg 40g butter 20g sugar 200ml water 250ml milk + the sponge( from above) -Try to calculate the ingredient temperatures so that the finished dough is approx 25 C. Knead well, remembering that the dough should be supple and elastic ( "Masas duras, masas seguras" has never been a good idea, especially here...) cover, and allow to ferment for 3 hours total, folding the dough gently over itself after the first 1 1/2 hours. -Divide as necessary to accommodate the available molds. Butter the molds, shape the dough pieces into sausage shapes, put into molds, cover and ferment until ready for the oven ( approx 60-75 minutes) - Bake at about 220 C until done. Bake well and remove from molds promptly to avoid softening and shrinkage. -Wait for 24 hours before toasting

You sound as though you are pretty much on the right track. Congratulations. Smaller batches of dough are more easily victims to the vicissitudes of ambient temperature. A few suggestions: - Have you been calculation the water temperature neede to produce a dough at the desired temperature? you could alway try multiplying the ideal dough temperature ( let's call it 74o F) by 4, and then apply the following formula: 296 minus ( Flour Temp + Levain Temp+Room temp)= water temp for eample, on a hot day 296 minus ( 80+ 78+79) = 59o water temperature. Remember that this assumes hand kneading. Using a machine, the heat from the friction of mixing must be factored in. A lot of people at home are afraid to use cool/cold water in the summer, but all that counts is the proper dough temperature by the end of kneading. - Something else you could do is shape the loaves, put them on couches and ferment at room temperature for about 90 minutes, and finish the process in the fridge. Best of luck to you James

I'm a pretty big fan of the whole Quebec food scene, but spent too much time working to go out a lot, and hesitate to criticise colleagues. Visitors should remember that Montreal is no longer the " Paris of North America" because local cooks are looking more to New York or L.A. for inspiration than France, and a visit to the city's more modern kitchens might not be a huge change for people from the U.S. The Quebecois' enthousiasm for most things, especially food, makes this a fun place to be, and because of the common language, French ingredients and tools are easily found, and although our local wine prices can be pretty high, we have a huge selection of wines from lesser known regions of France, for the most part unavailable elsewhere in North America, most great winemakers make it to town because they have a good time here, and I have been told by many of them that local wine buyers are among the most sophisticated in the world. Ducks and duck foie gras are produced in huge quantities, lamb is pastured on the marshes of the St Lawrence river ( similar to French pres sales lamb), wine ( needs work), cider, lots and lots of stuff...... There has been a huge boom in cheesemaking, and for the most part, so far so good, but things aren't perfect, and there are huge variances from producer to producer and batch to batch. Cheesemakers here weren't born into the business, and there no established regions, types, and appelations controlees. Most of the raw milk cheeses are based on Saint Paulin, probably because it ripens in the required 60 days ( Camembert, at 28-30 days would be tough), and things could be more varied. Another concern is that with our harsh climate, the cows ( cow breeds are another concern ) don't spend much time each year grazing meadows ( and what do they eat the rest of the time?) But as I said It's wonderful that all of these things are going on.

As long as you promise not to say "I told you so!" to your husband, I'll agree with you. Breads and other fermented things actually stale more quickly in the refrigerator, but on the other hand, be careful of letting pastries with cream fillings and other potentially dangerous ingredients sit out. I'm not a fan of the microwave, but i"ve been told that one can take the chill off too cold stuff ( without actually warming it) fairly easily

Although I have of course heard of the books you mention, I don't own them. Most North American bakers who want to bake European style hearth breads look for flours with similar characteristics to the flours found there, feeling that those breads evolved in great part due to local wheats and local flours. Could I turn my reply around somewhat, so that North Americans, too, may benefit from the answer? The mild and humid European climate produces relatively soft wheats with moderate gluten contents ( in these discussions the usual phrase is " protein content", but most of the protein becomes gluten during kneading), and the whole hearth bread tradition revolves around turning weak ( by North American standards, at least...) flours into bread. The basic milling process is the same on both sides of the Atlantic: the wheat is cleaned, tempered ( steeped in water to soften it somewhat), and turned into flour in a series of 25 or more grindings ans siftings. Just as brewers try get " get the best out of the grain" French millers try to extract as much as they can of the white endosperm as they can while avoiding bran particles which would darken the color and change the flavor. It is thought that the best flavor comes from the portion of the endosperm closest to the bran layer. In the very old days, extra strength flours were produced by setting aside the "strains" during the process which are highest in protein , but this somewhat wasteful "skimming-off" of the strongest stuff was outlawed ( during the second world war, I believe), and all flours are what is called " straight grade". For free standing loaves which bake on the floor of the oven, the quality of the gluten matters more than the quantity ( certain very high protein wheats are unsuitable for bread) and some wheats have more flavor than others. Millers, therefore, have to know quite a bit about baking ( Raymond Calvel taught baking for over 50 years at the French school for millers). The dry North American climate produces wheat with huge protein contents ( especially in the spring wheats of Canada and the Northern U.S.), and and the protein content is calculated with 14% humidity factored in, making the proteins even higher than they would seem compared to the French where protein is calculated on dry matter. The French find the North American milling process somewhat heavy-handed, especially in that the wheat is steeped for only 6 to 8 hours rather than 16 to 18 ( and the harder North American wheats would require much more than this in their view, but no one does this), and almost all flours here are not "straight grade", but instead the lower protein "streams" are used for all purpose flours, and the higher protein "streams" for varying strengths of "bakers' flours". The protein numbers game has left little room for considerations of protein quality and flavor, although the huge growth in artisan baking has at last begun to cause growers and millers to take notice. What to do in North America, then? Remember that wheat is grown for its protein content, and that millers aren't thinking about european style baked goods when they produce flours. It is too easy for many bakers to say, in the same way that someone might say " If I want to be a cowboy I'll need a cowboy hat and cowboy boots", " I'm a baker and bakers use bakers' flours", but for hearthbreads, this isn't the case. For most breads ( and croissants and even puff pastry) a relatively strong all purpose flour ( unbleached and untreated, of course) works well. Not all of these flours are created equal in flavor and performance, and there's nothing like a test bake or two to get to the bottom of things...( I shouldn't play favorites for there are other good flours, but King Arthur all purpose is readily available and a good example). A good illustration of the difference between French and North American wheats and flours is to remember that the French used to take the very strongest portion of the milling process to make farine de gruau, while completely inverdely,here only the relatively low proportion of the weakest stuff works for French bread. Finally, to turn the question back around and consider U.S. recipes in Europe, my first inclination would be to visit a local bakery which makes good hearthbreads and buy some flour. If you choose the higher protein option and the bakery doesn't have it, small amounts of gluten are worth a try ( Canada sells much gluten to French millers).

If I promise ( cross my heart and hope to die ) that I'm not being flippant, would you get back to me and tell me what kind of pan it is ? I will do my best to answer. James

John- I'm in the doldrums these days, of course, wondering what to do. Your thoughtfulness to post this query warms the cockles, but do you or other less doldrumed people have any suggestions? My great time as part of the Canadian contingent at the Taste of The Nation in New York ( in loaned kitchen space from Cafe Boulud - thanks Andrew!- where we made Rillettes using Du Breton porc, and a saucisson made with Nova Scotia scallops) reminded me that I can't walk away from any of these things.... Where? When? In the meantime, keep me busy on egullet with questions! James

Jason- Thanks for everything, including the whole egullet thing. Frankly, I'm stymied by the Atkins thing, and would have big problems readapting both my working habits and my eating habits. Most of these things, for most people, blow over fairly quickly. Everything in moderation, it is said, but some of us are more enthousiastic, and bakers' customers will hope, more stubborn..... Cheers, James

100% whole wheat loaves do tend to be dense. Remember that whole wheat flours will tend to absorb more water than white flours, and that a quick premixing of the ingredients followed by a 5 minute rest before beginning the kneading will allow the flour to hydrate, and soften things so that the bran doesn't break things down as much. Stone ground flours still contain the germ, and they therefore go rancid and lead to acid tasting results. Look for fresh flours, and also remember that the fermentation times might be shorter than other loaves. Crumbly results, on the other hand, might be a consequence of insufficient bulk fermentation of the dough. This leads to a dense, quick-drying loaf which when sliced, lacks the elastic, supple quality that fermentation provides.

French dictionaries define artisan as someone who works with his (her) hands in a self-owned business with help from family members or a few employees. Machines and other labor-saving devices have since clouded things. At what point in any given trade do technical advances start to infringe upon quality, and quantity/profit begin to rule? Mechanical mixers only came into general use in France at the close of the first world war. They were a good idea, for we must assume that all too often, exhaused workers underkneaded doughs as the day's work progressed, and they are a benign necessity as long as bakers do not oxydise doughs through overkneading, thereby destroying flavor and texture. Unfortunately, the mechanical dough dividers and dough shapers which arrived in the 1950's ans 60's were another matter because the brutal action of the early models mangled the pieces of dough. Early versions of industrial equipment were even worse, and in both cases, the dough's texture and state of "fermentedness" had to be adjusted to suit the machines ( i.e. for the most part overly firm and grossly underfermented doughs), not the end result. French food laws are concerned not only with food safety but also consumer protection. Appelation Controlee laws guarentee the origin and basic quality criteria of wines and cheeses, and bread may contain only unbleached flour, water, yeast( or levain), salt, malt (or amylases), fava bean flour, ascorbic acid, and lecithin which is used only industrially ( by comparison, one has the impression that in Canada and especially the U.S. that bread could look and taste like cotton candy as long as it makes a profit and doesn't cause cancer in laboratory mice) Faced with the alarming disappearance rate of artisan bakeries because of supermarkets and "boulangeries froides" ( traditional-looking bakeries but which buy prebaked bread rather than produce it), laws were passed over ten years ago to protect the artisans and their customers: "pain maison" must be entirely produced on the site, and "pain tradition" limits the ingredients to flour, water, yeast, salt, malt and fava bean flour ( this is curious and unfortunate, for the fava bean flour is indeed traditional but drastically increases the loss of flavor when the dough is overmixed, while ascorbic acid is prohibited for despite the fact that for those who choose to use a dough conditioner, it is probably th best choice. History wins out over flavor because ascorbic acid is not traditional). At the time, Raymond Calvel remarked that no law can force bad bakers to bake good bread. First machines, and then additives have clouded the definition of artisan and abuses abound. Montreal is famous for its bagels, but I have yet to see a bagel place that doesn't use bleached flours containing azodicarbinomide ( an additive which allows for the elimination of the fermentation of the dough). Because of this, in spite of the hand shaping and wood-burning ovens, I feel that they are an industrial product. Lionel Poilane's bakery produces thousands of loaves weekly in a huge plant on the outskirts of Paris, but apparently the "factory" is merely the original workshop reproduced 15 or 20 times with bakers in each one doing things the way they have always been done. It would be difficult to critcise this. I am of two minds on the question of stress-free industrial machines to divide and shape doughs. The artisan in me recoils, but it might get improved bread into supermarkets.

For a few years, people in France have been experimenting with refrigerating doughs the day before to be shaped and fermented the following day. I have had no experience with this as yet but will still put my two cents in as I feel that it is cumbersome, and I would rather work with a classic , very active dough. In these times when the "garbage men" of my youth have been rechristened "sanitation engineers", etc, bakers could be called fermentation managers. Most people at home are used to making "straight" doughs, that is, all of the ingredients are kneaded at the same time from scratch. It is possible, however, to "borrow" part of the flour called-for in a recipe, and make what is called a preferment ( some people call these starters, but to me starter=sourdough). There are various types, which include: - a yeast "levain", where 1/4 or so of the flour is turned into a fermenting piece of dough and added to the new dough as though it were a starter ( pastry chefs might remember this from brioche recipes) -Poolish- a liquid mixture (1:1 four to water) brought to Paris by Viennese bakers - Pate Fermentee- quite simply baguette ( or other basic french bread) dough which has been set aside and allowed to ferment. To understand the preferments, we should look first into basic fermentation theory. We all tend to oversimplify yeast's role in breadmaking, assuming that the idea is that the yeast ferments sugars in the dough, forming bubbles which cannot escape because things are so elastic, and once the pieces of dough are light and puffy, into the oven they go. In fact, bacically speaking, so far, so good, BUT: In the earliest days of breadmaking, weak flours and handkneading huge amounts of dough meant that doughs were an impossibly sticky mass, and it would have been unthinkable to shape it immediately into loaves. Instead, bakers noticed, that during long (relatively) cool fermentations, the dough would acquire some structure, some "architecture", so that by the end it would no longer be sticky but instead firmer and shapeable. It wasn't understood at the time that besides the alcohol and CO2 gas produced by the alcoholic fermentation, there were by produccts which include fatty organic acids. These acids are what firm-up the gluten strands to give structure to the dough, but they also give flavor, texture, and keeping qualities to the finished load. A straight dough must ferment for 3 to 4 hours before shaping to reap full benefit from these acids, but borrowing part of the flour to make a preferment means that instead of a new dough's starting-off with no organic acids, it starts off with a lot ( because they were pre-formed in the pre ferment). What this all means is that if you use a recipe calling for a good percentage of preferments- whatever method- (up to 1/2 the flour) things can go surprisingly quickly with no loss of quality. The amount of yeast used in the preferment should be adjusted to the amount of time it is made beforehand, and the preferment kept at cool room temperature ( the wine cellar?) or allowed to start off for a time at room temperature and then refrigerated ( Cool or colf preferments can be an advantage in hot climates) I would suggest that you try making country style loaves containing some whole wheat flour ( 15-20%) or rye ( just a bit for it changes things quite a bit), because they tend to be more forgiving: as long as they are correctly kneaded and fermented, they can me more dense or less dense but are almost always pleasing, and they will be a clear contrast to the bought bread you also serve. Just in case I forget to mention this elsewhere, remember that doughs for French breads are surprisingly cool by North American standards, the ideal being something in the neighborhood of 72-75o Farenheit.

Sourdoughs are like children, destined to be the subjects of unconditional love, fascination, and not a little bit of angst Research into sourdoughs in the U.S. began in California and papers published in the late sixties and early seventies by Frank Sugihara, Leo Kline, and their collaborators ( one of these was called The Nature Of The Sourdough Bread Process). They are readable papers, and most people have based their stuff upon them. Before the introduction of beer yeast which became baker's yeast, sourdoughs were the only fermentation method, and being spontaneous, it was discovered by accident most probably, and then mastered. There are organisms all aroud us which make things ferment and lots of fermentable stuff. Sourdough cultures consist of two types of organisms: heterofermintive lactic cultures ( i.e. the kind of beasties which ferment saurkraut, not cheese or yogurt) and wild yeasts. The yeasts yield delicate flavors and lighter results, while the lactic stuff leads to denser results with varying degrees of "tang". Temperatures and other growing conditions can lead to the dominance of either, hence a baker's style ( even when this is not conscious) depend upon how the culture has been "built" and treated. Put most simply, darker flours, lower temperatures, and less frequent "feedings" ( i.e. additions of flour and water) lead to denser, tangier results. Inversley, Whiter flours, warmer temperatures, and more frequent feedings will lead to lighter, more delicate results. An extremely important point is that storing a culture in the refrigerator ( or anywhere under 12o C) will, in principle, kill-off the wild yeast portion of the culture, leading to very dense, very acis results. Many people appreciate the extra punch of an acid sourdough, but the Frech point of view is more middle of the road: the characteristic flavors should be there, but the loaves should be light enough to have ( and retain) a crispy crust. As I said, the two elements of the culture are all around us, so to make a culture, one must put them into propitious growing conditions. Much has been written about the use of grapes and other fruits to get things going ( steep the raisins in room temperature water and once things are fermenting merrily, mix the liquid with flour and continue to build with feedings of flour and water...). Raymond Calvel feels that if bread is made from flour, then what more logical thing to use than flour to start a culture?. It is best to begin with at least a portion of darker flour ( rye or whole wheat) because logically there are more "beasties on the outside of the grain, and more nourishment for them. I don't have the time, with so many questions to answer, to go through the process, but I myself use the method outlined in The Taste Of Bread. You mentioned the age of a culture, and I have been given pieces of starter as old as 100 years. One treats these with reverence, of course, but I have found that after a few days on the feeding schedule and other conditions I usually use, that these cultures quickly begin to mimic my own culture in all respects. Regular feedings, and two building stages for the levains just before the dough stage have, in my view, always been worth the extra trouble.

Yes, there has been much talk about the fat content of Canadian butters, including an article by Toronto's Gina Mallet. I have had great results with a Lactantia butter ( owned by Parmalat) called Lactantia Plus. They began setting aside batches of butter with higher butterfat contents ( with less water in them, in other words) after a meeting with local members of France's Academie Culinaire some years ago and calling it Plus. Cultured butters have a delicious nutty flavor, and apart from Lactantia, I have seen cultured butters at Loblaw's which, I seem to remember, are calles Normandy style or something similar. It has been a while since I have worked with anything besides Lactantia Plus, but it seems to me that as long as the butter has been "plastified" ( that is, kneaded or beaten with a rolling pin until smooth but kept cold- this is easily done in two or three minutes) and things are not allowed to warm up too much during the tuning process ( the rolling and folding lamination process) there should be little problem. I had some very good results when I last worked in Vermont with what was called a "European Style" butter which touted 83% butterfat, and have heard about a similar butter called plusgras ( the name seems to be an effort to reproduce every French sound that Americans have problems pronouncing...) but these butters are not cultured ( cultured means that the cream goes through a fermentation process- a "maturation"- similar to that of creme fraiche which is no longer necessary technically with modern methods of making butter) and wish they were.

Thanks for the question. My true speciality is French bread, and for best results, loaves should be baked in a hearth oven- on the floor of the oven that is- in the presence of steam during the first minutes of baking. The steam condenses on the out side of the loaves and allows them to rise more before they become prisoners of their own crust. This leads to a thinner, crispier crust, and also a warm brown color ( bread baked without steam is greyish). I'll talk more about steam in one of the following questions. Convection ovens work well for pastries, and are terrific for puff pastry and croissants. I haven't worked with them for bread, but fear that the greater speed of convection baking would hasten crust formation, and the too-quickly formed crust would inhibit oven spring. I have only dabbled with regular home ovens for French breads, but Jeffrey Hamelman or Susan Miller at the baking school at King Arthur Flour might have some good ideas