Sourdough Bread Sticks with Parmesan and Poppy Seeds

I’ve been baking from the Breads from the La Brea Bakery book since earlier this year, and at this point, I’ve made a few of the dough recipes more than once. For instance, I’ve practically memorized the bagel recipe I’ve made that one so many times. But, now that I’ve worked with the rustic bread dough a second time, I think it might be my favorite so far. It’s a very wet and sticky dough, and it seems like it’s going to be nothing but a mess until it comes out of the oven with a crisp crust and chewy, open interior full of fresh-baked, sourdough flavor. In the book, Silverton describes what the dough should feel like after it has proofed for two hours: ‘it should feel soft and alive.’ It did feel alive in that the dough was so tender, you could tell it was going to get bubbly, and it seemed full of energy. There are a few recipes in the book that use this dough, and these bread sticks are one of them. Kurt was in need of some kind of bread to take to a company potluck lunch, and I thought that bread sticks might be more fun than dinner rolls. I was also inspired by some parmesan and poppy seed bread twists I saw in Gourmet magazine a few months ago, so I added those toppings to these.

This particular dough is possibly the quickest one to make in the La Brea book. Water, sourdough starter, half of a fresh yeast cake, and bread flour were mixed with a dough hook in a stand mixer and then left to sit for 20 minutes. Then, salt was added and mixed into the dough. Some milk, olive oil, and a little more water were stirred together in a bowl before being slowly added to the dough while the mixer was running on low speed. The dough was very wet and sloshy at this point, and it was necessary to continue mixing slowly until it came together a bit. Finally, it was mixed at higher speed until all the liquid was fully incorporated. At that point, the dough was left in the bowl of the mixer, was covered with plastic wrap, and fermented for two hours. After fermenting, the dough was quickly turned out onto a very well-floured surface, and by quickly turned out, I mean plopped because there really is no shaping to be done with this dough. It just is what it is. I sort of pulled it into a rectangular-ish shape. The dough was sprinkled with more flour, covered with a towel, and was left to proof until it felt ‘alive’ which was an additional two hours. Some bubbles were forming, and the dough was otherwise smooth and lovely. I chose to brush the top with olive oil and then distribute grated parmesan and poppy seeds. Now, the goal was to cut approximately one-inch wide pieces and then stretch them as they were dropped onto a semolina-dusted, parchment-lined baking sheet. Well, this dough being what it was, I cut more or less around an inch-or-so-wide pieces, tried to pick them up and place them on the sheet without turning them into jump ropes, and then dropped them while attempting to twist the dough a little as it fell. They were rustic but no less delicious for it.

The bread sticks baked at 450 F with some water spritzing of the oven during the first five minutes and were golden and crisp after a total of 25 minutes. Kurt was happy to take these for his potluck lunch, and he was even happier that I set a few aside to keep at home. All of the other breads from this book have been great too, but there’s something about this dough that makes it special. I have a feeling I’ll eventually memorize this recipe.

I’m submitting this to Yeastspotting where you’ll find some seriously well-made bread.

Cabbage and Mushroom Galette with Horseradish Sauce

I had a big, lovely head of green cabbage from my CSA, and I wanted to use it for something other than slaw. At first, I considered this Hungarian cabbage strudel, and I still may try that eventually. But, then I saw the recipe for cabbage and mushroom galette in Vegetarian Cooking for Everone, and that was how this cabbage was meant to be used. This savory galette is made with a yeasted tart dough, filled with sauteed cabbage and mushrooms, and given a little kick with the horseradish sour cream sauce. I have to tell you about the dough first. It’s a lot like a pizza dough except that an egg is added. The dough was mixed and left to rise for about an hour, and that one, little egg made the dough very tender. It was less elastic than pizza dough when being shaped, and it was flakier than pizza crust once baked. This was a tart dough I’ll definitely use again.

For the filling, minced onion and sliced shitakes were sauteed in butter with thyme and dill. Then, the sliced cabbage was added with a little water, and the saute pan was covered while the cabbage cooked for about 15 minutes. The cover was removed, and the heat was raised to evaporate remaining moisture from the pan. Last, parsley, a chopped hard-boiled egg, and some sour cream were stirred into the vegetables. At this point, I transferred this mixture to a bowl and left it in the refrigerator for a few hours. I had also rolled out the dough into an oblong, rectangular-ish shape, placed it on a baking sheet, covered it with a kitchen towel, and placed that in the refrigerator as well. At dinner time, I assembled the tart while the oven warmed. The filling was placed on the tart dough leaving a border of a few inches. The border was folded up and over the filling and was brushed with melted butter. For a savory tart, I like to spinkle the top edges with sea salt. The tart baked for about 30 minutes while I made the horseradish sauce.

The recipe in the book suggests peeling and chopping fresh horseradish root and then partially pureeing it in a food processor with water. Then, it was to be drained and combined with the other ingredients in the sauce. I took a lazier approach and simply peeled the horseradish and grated it on a microplane into a bowl of sour cream. Then, I added chopped chives, salt and pepper, and white wine vinegar. You could also just use prepared horseradish and skip the added vinegar in the sauce, but I do like the bite of just-grated, fresh horseradish. The sauce was perfect with the cabbage and mushroom filling, and this hearty galette was perfect for fall.

Green Bean Casserole

Last week, there was an article in the NY Times about green bean casserole. Of course, this is a popular dish around holiday time, but it’s also a dish with which I’m very familiar given that I grew up in the land of can of soup casseroles. When I first moved to Texas many years ago, I was asked by a friend about my home state. As soon as I mentioned Illinois, she said ‘oh, that’s where every recipe has a can of soup in it.’ I almost fell over giggling because that was pretty accurate, at that time anyway. For the first Thanksgiving dinner that I prepared myself, I was determined to include a homemade green bean casserole sans cans of soup. I chopped mushrooms and sauteed them, made a bechamel sauce, cooked fresh green beans, and it all worked fine. That first time, I left the crunchy onion component out of the equation, but it was otherwise a fine made-from-scratch rendition. So, when I read this article about Joaquin Baca who created a homemade green bean casserole for his restaurant, I had to try his version.

First, lots of mushrooms were sliced, and half of them were pureed with red onions to form a paste. The other half was sauteed in butter. Once browned, garlic, thyme, and then the mushroom onion paste were added to the sauteed mushrooms. Then, cream and stock were added, and that mixture was set aside. That part of the recipe could be made in advance and refrigerated until needed. Green beans were cooked in boiling water and then shocked in ice water. When drained, they were added to the mushroom mixture with sliced almonds and breadcrumbs. That was then transferred to a baking dish, and I took inspiration from the article for my pan choice. At the restaurant, Baca serves his individual casseroles in small cast iron skillets, so I baked mine in a larger cast iron skillet. It was topped with more breadcrumbs before being placed in the oven. While it baked, I fried some sliced shallots, rather than the suggested pearl onions, to sprinkle on right before serving. My shallots got a little too brown, but they were crispy and delicious just the same.

We both liked this casserole a lot. It’s an inspired way to eat vegetables, that’s for certain. The crunchy sliced almonds are a nice addition that I didn’t include in my green bean casseroles in the past. However, the one thing that Kurt and I both noticed was that the breadcrumbs mixed into the casserole left it grainy when we would have preferred it smoother. The breadcrumbs on top were fine, but next time I would skip adding them to the mixture with the green beans. Other than that, this was an amazing, rich but fresh-tasting casserole that far surpassed anything with a can of soup in it.