Ok, last post, I PROMISE.
Sorry, when I have time off, I get to work. So I did a bunch of stuff today. Last, but not least was an italian baguette in which I used the mother starter.
just being stuff
I was planning on an italian baguette for my neighbor who has been plowing our driveway. Or, maybe he’s just playing with his bobcat. Either way, my fiance nor myself have had to shovel our very long driveway. Can’t complain at all.
However, I discovered, to my dismay, I was very low on commercial yeast. I guess making a mother starter means you completely forget that you might need commercial yeast eventually and just pretend you never need to buy any more. Also, I was in pajamas and I do not go out in pajamas and I am really, really lazy. I couldn’t make it to the store, obviously.
Ugh. Apparently you can roll your eyes at yourself.
So I thought, since I was technically going to make a biga and I didn’t have time to let it chill in the fridge over night, why not use the mother starter, which has been in the fridge eating and farting whatever yeast eats and farts?
So I did. Ok, more accurately, I took a stab at it. Totally just went by the seat of my pants. What, would I put it in the oven and it would turn into a stapler? Worst case scenario, my fiance and I could eat bread stored in the freezer and I could make the neighbor’s baguette some other time. Most likely scenario, bread. Taste, a mystery. But I was fairly confident it would be bread.
So I mixed up the biga as I would normally and added several heaping spoonfuls of mother starter.
uh, hi. no, we don’t know what she’s doing either.
A very, very wet, sticky biga was suddenly on my hands. Literally.
i know this is a spatula. spatulas for every occasion!
Adding flour until, gee, I don’t know, it became somewhat solid…
if i threw it at the ceiling, it would’ve stuck. like a turtle?
And then I left it to rise. Or, make itself into a pancake…
not unlike my chest…
Eh, the dough was still awful wet, but again, seat of my pants. Keep on trucking…
that is unlike my chest.
back to the bowl with ye!
And then I looked at the clock, did some math and went, wow, Brittany, you’re an idiot. There was no way in ever loving Heaven that this was going to be on time. Corner cutting time! I left it to rise again until mostly doubled.
i do not lie when I say my fiance said, while I was taking this picture: “it looks like a butt.”
there’s something wrong with that butt.
pinch, roll, pinch, roll
At this exact moment I had, ohhhh, an hour to finish up. And I needed about an hour and a half. Eh, whatever, this is the “screw the rules” bread. Again, I don’t think it’s going to be a file cabinet when I take it out.
it’s a lamp!
The oven spring was insane. It easily doubled or tripled in the oven. And, last bonehead move, promise:
cut it too early, but we were hungry!
It turned out really, really tasty. Just a little sour from the mother starter, but it was spot on delicious!
Tomorrow I am going to bring the neighbor his loaf, it’s late and cold and terrible out there. Also I wanted to give him instructions on storage and I wanted to make sure it didn’t taste like a desk chair.