I had an idea about a grilled salmon sandwich I wanted to make, and at the same time, I was itching to use my starter again. Lucky for me, these sandwich rolls appear in the Bread from the La Brea Bakery
book so I could continue my adventures in baking with it. Silverton explains in the book that she loves the pale, yellow color of these rolls’ interiors, and that color comes from the durum wheat. The recipe calls for both semolina flour, which is made from durum wheat, and durum flour. The difference between the two is that semolina flour is usually of a coarser grind than durum flour, but that depends on where and how it was made. The semolina flour I found was finer in texture than cornmeal, and I didn’t find durum flour locally. I located some information online explaining that semolina flour can be processed in a food processor to make it finer, and then it can be used as durum flour. That’s what I did here.
This was a one-day bread, and the dough came together easily and was a nice one. Water, fresh yeast, white starter, bread flour, semolina flour, and (my version of) durum flour were first combined in the bowl of a stand mixer and mixed with a dough hook. Salt was added, and the dough was mixed until smooth and then kneaded by hand briefly. It was placed in a large bowl, covered with plastic wrap, and left to ferment for about two hours. At that point, it was divided into 12 pieces which were then covered with a towel and left to rest for 15 minutes. Then, the instructions got a little cloudy, but I think it all worked out ok. A process of flattening each piece of dough and then folding this way and that and sealing and folding again and sealing that seam and tucking in loose dough and ta-da. I would have loved some photos to follow for that, so I just did what seemed about right. In the end I had 12 roll-shaped items that were each about seven inches long.
The next step was pretty fun. Each roll was sprayed with water from a spray bottle and sprinkled with sesame seeds. Then each back side was dipped in a plate of water and then pressed into a plate of semolina flour. So, the rolls ended up topped with sesame seeds and crusted with semolina on the bottom. They were placed on a floured towel with the towel pinched up between each roll to keep them separated. They were then covered and left to snuggle for about one hour while the oven heated. The rolls were placed on a parchment lined baking sheet and each received a couple of slashes on top. The instructions for how to do those slashes also left me wanting a photo, so again, I did something that seemed like what was described. The oven was spritzed with water, and in went the rolls. The oven was spritzed two more times in the first five minutes of baking, and the total baking time was about 30 minutes.
I’d love to find out what I was really supposed to be doing with the folding and seam sealing to form the rolls and how that affects the outcome. If there are any expert sesame-semolina sandwich roll bakers out there, please advise. I’m not sure if the interior texture I achieved on these was exactly what it should have been, but I was happy with the result for a first attempt.
I’m submitting this to Yeastspotting where you’ll find some seriously well-made bread. The guest host this week is Zorra.
Our spring/summer CSA subscription just started, and Hands of the Earth Farm grew some beautiful beets. The bunch we received included red, gold, and some pale, pinkish white ones. I wanted to use these in some interesting way, and I knew right where to look. I read A16: Food + Wine
recently, and I remembered seeing this salad in the Anitpasti chapter. This book tells the story of the San Francisco restaurant of the same name and the southern Italian food and wine that inspired the menu and wine list. The first section in the book covers wine by region. This area of Italy is not as well-known for its wine as the northern regions, and less wine is exported from the south. I learned a lot about some unfamiliar varietals and some interesting wines to look for in stores and restaurants. In the food section of the book, there is a wine suggestion for each dish, and for this salad that was Asprinio di Aversa from Campania. Asprinio means “slightly sour,” and this wine is described as lean and crisp with a sour edge. Unfortunately, it’s not an easy one to locate. Another wine from Campania is Greco di Tufo which is also a lean white with some acidity, and this I was able to find.
The fresh, pretty beets were roasted until tender, allowed to cool, peeled, and chopped into wedges. Fennel was sliced, quickly blanched, rinsed, and drained. A thick vinaigrette was to be made from black olives. I used black Cerignolas which have a nice, buttery, olive flavor but are a little difficult to pit. The pitted olives were pulsed in a food processor with olive oil and red wine vinegar, and this was tossed with the prepared beets. The drained, sliced fennel was tossed with lemon juice, olive oil, and salt. The salad was plated by piling some fennel in the center and surrounding it with beets, and an aged sheep’s pecorino, oro antico, was shaved on top of it all. I didn’t even realize until I had plated the salads that there is no pepper in this dish. I had to stop and think about whether I had grabbed the peppermill at some point out of habit, and no, I did not, I actually followed the instructions correctly. Throughout the food portion of the book, Appleman mentions the simplicity of flavors found in southern Italian food. He mentions that traditionally when onion is used, garlic is not, and when chiles are used, black pepper isn't. He doesn’t always use black pepper whether chiles are present or not. In general, ingredients are left in simple combinations to prevent one flavor from sullying or masking another.
Here, the focus of the salad was the sweetness of the vegetables accented by the briny olives and salty cheese. A small amount of salt was used in dressing the fennel, but pepper was not used at any point. Each item on the plate fulfilled exactly what it should have. The fennel was perfect with lemon, and the olives met well with the earthy sweetness of the beets. The sharp yet rich bite of the cheese brought all the flavors together, and the crisp, light, Greco di Tufo with a hint of grapefruit was just what was meant to go with it since I don’t know what I was missing with the Asprinio di Aversa.
For special occasions, I like to sends friends off from our house with a little something, a goodie bag if you will. Sometimes it’s just a few cookies I baked the day before, or during the holidays, it might be homemade candy. For the dinner party I’ve described all week, I wanted to send our friends off with a little something particularly American, and I remembered this pairing from The French Laundry Cookbook
. Fruit jellies served with peanut butter truffles is a charming twist on a classic flavor combination.
This is the first time I am able to say that I prepared something from The French Laundry Cookbook, and it’s kind of exciting to get to say that. Opening that book in the kitchen and actually following the recipes felt a little like cooking from kitchen scripture. I kept the book a good distance from the mess as if it were placed on a pedestal, and I wondered if I should have bowed before measuring out the first ingredient. All jokes aside, this is a really excellent book, and I learned a great deal from reading it alone. To begin this treat, I set about making the jellies. The two suggested flavors are yuzu and concord grape. I searched high and low and did not find yuzu juice in this town of mine, and by comparison concord grape just seemed a bit pedestrian. I decided to make just one flavor, and opted to use acai juice. Next, the suggested apple pectin was as elusive as the yuzu juice, so I used an equal measure of citrus pectin and it seemed to work fine. Keller does note that apple pectin is the key to the jellies delicate texture, so I’ll try harder to procure it next time. For the truffles, I used El Rey milk chocolate and organic, freshly ground peanut butter. Once the truffles are formed, they are then dipped not once, but twice in melted chocolate which can be either milk or bittersweet. I found a 53% cacao El Rey which is somewhere in between and used that.
So for jellies, a combination of juice, sugar, and corn syrup was simmered and skimmed. Pectin was combined with more sugar and dissolved with some of the simmering liquid. All was returned to a pot to simmer a bit longer, and then it was poured into a pan and left to set. The truffle filling was made by blending peanut butter, sugar, and salt in a food processor. Melted milk chocolate was added and then some softened butter, and they were blended into the mixture. This was then refrigerated until firm. I formed the truffles by using a melon baller, and then they were chilled. More chocolate was melted, and the truffles were dipped once, allowed to set, and then dipped a second time. For presentation, the truffles were dusted with cocoa powder.
For me, the truffles were like the best Reese’s peanut butter cups ever made. The jellies were delicious, albeit sticky due to our humidity, and the combination of the two was fun and cute and a good food pun. The truffles were far and away the better half of the duo, but I will definitely make this again with both parts.
