more than you need

pizza.

part 2.

hi. so, i froze half of that dough. remember the last time we talked, i had just made a (not enough cheese) kinfolky pizza? ok, i'm not going down that road again.

anyway, i halvzied up the last post and this because i wanted to perform this little experiment. well, today is the day of reckoning, and so here i am to share the good news: this dough froze like a champ (i was going to say that it froze like a mother _ucker, but this is a family show). ribald aside, i defrosted the lump of it on the counter and made it up into a sweet little onion, leek, fontina deal-e-o and man. oh. MAN. can i just tell you that you need to get on this asap. because you can always have pizza. no dough is no excuse. right, it's always the dough that keeps us from making our own pie. and the dough is so easy to make, remember? and now we know that it freezes. seriously. you (meaning 'i') have no excuse now.

im fortunate enough to live close to mozza where i can spend a jackson on a little pie, but while i don't always have a jackson to spare, i always have a can of tomatoes on deck, and i'm never without an onion or a leek (if you are, you ought to be ashamed of yourself), and now with this dough, it's like i have my own personal mario batali hangin' around my kitchen. ok not really, but, you know.

this is serious poor man's pizza. but who would be the wiser, i mean, lookit it. i mean, how much can a red onion cost? and now i'm going to make it my business to keep a slab of this dough in the freezer.

while we were talking just now, i ate half of it. ok, i'm totally lying through my teeth. i ate half plus a wedge. a skinny wedge, but i did go over the line (and i'm totally going for another wedge. i'm not even lying). and the texture and flavor is the same as the first pizza, that is to say crispy and olive oily and delicious.

here are some tips. while the dough is shakin' off its frost, heat the oven for an hour and a half (at 550 degrees, with the stone in there). you heard. all that time makes all the diff in the world. or you can do like my friend aaron and just yank the lever off of your fancy oven, the one that locks the door when it's on the 'cleaning' cycle, because the cleaning cycle cranks the oven up to like a million degrees, but you can't bake/open/close it because of that wretched lock. thank you aaron. security deposits are going all to hell because of your savagery. but i get it. a man's gotta have his pizza.

i'm not going to bother posting the dough formula again. you can just scroll down, because no one is that lazy. but for this pie, here's the scoop:

i finely sliced 1/2 of a medium red onion and a 1/2 of a large leek. it seems like a mountain of allium when you get in onto the dough, but trust me, it all shrinks down, so you want to slice up more than you think you need.

oh, and i rinsed the slivers of leek, then spun them uber dry (along with the red onion) and blotted them with a paper towel. you want them to crisp. if you put them on the pie sopping wet, they will steam instead of caramelize, and that's just gross. i sliced up a large handful of fontina cheese for this pizza. that's what i had on hand, and it was perfect.

now you want to spread all this jazz around on the dough that you've just expertly stretched and shaped.

drizzle with olive oil. bake for like, oh i don't know, whenever it looks brown enough (i showered while it was baking, that should give you an idea of how much time it takes). i sprinkled the finished miracle with fresh oregano and chili flake, but you don't have to. preferences, see.

and that's the long and short of it. see you soon, yeah? enjoy your pie.

this pie feeds one seriously greedy girl, or two, happily, with a salad and a pint of arrogant bastard ale.

to the staff of life!

way more than you need...

(this post was shared with susan T at wild yeast blog)

yes, but is it kinfolk?

part one.

so, i went to a funky little store in echo park last week called cookbook, a tiny greengrocer in the very hipster echo park neighborhood of l.a.

the store was cute enough, tiny as a broom closet with a conservative collection of pricey goods that today, everyone must have in their larders - slender fingers of pink, french radishes, sacks of heirloom grains. a couple of very serious-looking and borderline dour young folks stood rigid at the register, the girl of the two regarded me unsmilingly as though i had interrupted her backyard cow-milking with purchase of my measly bag of farine.

folks. yes, they were that sort of kinfolk eclectic which is hardly eclectic anymore. you know the bunch, you can spot them by their tragic loafers, perfectly down-at-heel and usually lacking laces. the girls, standing slightly pigeon-toed, always, wear impoverished smocks and hair-styles tacked together by a superfluity of mismatched bobby pins, the bangs of which land high on their foreheads. the boys, observe, must wear too-small cardigans with threadbare elbows, under this is a shirt of plaid, smaller still and buttoned tight at the throat. their battered old fedoras, the final infinitesimal accoutrement to the ensemble, perch high over their cowlicks, a wilted feather struggling at the band. and beards are back, did you know? the more scraggly the better, it would seem. rustic. he's been chopping wood (again), this beard says.

don't misunderstand. i LOVE gorgeous kinfolk. and i'm guilty too, not of these sartorial abuses, but we are all indeed photographing our masterpieces on weatherbeaten pieces of wood and pretending that the configuration was adventitious. oh, but a puff of silver hydrangea just there in the background, how clever, how accidental! and those leaves that tumbled down like that, capture them there, just how they've fallen, oh look how perfectly natural they lay. it's all fine and good. we say.

yes, but is it kinfolk?

well, is it? we beg ourselves, in appraisal of our arrangements.

but i digress, and nevertheless, cookbook confirmed that they had a few bags of central milling ØØ flour, which is tricky to find. and lo, a bucket of hydrangeas in the window, plum-colored, i think. and this brings us to our post today.

was it worth it? meh. the pizza was great, but it's great when i use bread flour, or even A/P. compare that at $5 per 5 lb. bag to $11 for a sack of ØØ at the same weight. alas, one must try new things lest one's life becomes too stale.

the long and short of this blather is that you can save yourself a trip across town and at least $6 and use either bread or A/P for this formula which we can get at whole foods, very well we know. but you may ask yourself, in view of your economy and when standing at that great wall of supermarket flours between les confitures and the sea of salts: but is it kinfolk?

the answer: indeed, it is not.

kinfolk is not just a magazine, darling reader, but an adjective to describe the mileu of our lives, the very organization of our minds. one must make an important decision, then, whether to be stylishly arranged, or in full embrace of one's frugality in matters of dress and wealth.

stay tuned, for part 2 in our ØØ series. for now, busy yourself with this.

decidedly not kinfolk pizza

THE DAY BEFORE DOUGH DAY

40g starter

100g ØØ flour, i used central milling

100g h2o

1. in a large vintage, kinfolk-inspired bowl, add the starter, ØØ and h2o 2. mix it up until you reach a smooth paste 3. cover 4. ferment your levain. mine fermented for 9 hours.

1.

2.

3.

4.

DOUGH DAY

all of the levain

500g ØØ flour i used central milling

350g h2o

14g salt

24g olive oil

mix up the levain with the ØØ and h2o until you reach a shaggy mass. autolyse for one hour.

after autolyse, squish the salt and olive oil in and knead the dough for 3 minutes by hand.

now is time for the 4-hour bulk fermentation. one hour after you kneaded the dough, fold/turn the dough as you normally would when making a boule, then in another half hour, perform another series, then one more in another half hour for a total of 3 series of turns.

it will be a smooth mass. pop in the fridge for the remaining 2 hours and ferment, unmolested.

MAY AS WELL MAKE YOUR SAUCE

1 14.5 oz. can italian plum tomatoes

3 cloves garlic

a glug of olive oil

4 basil leaves

pour the tomatoes into a small saucepan, break up with your fingers. using a submersible blender, blend it up a bit just to break up the larger chunks. add the garlic, about 4 leaves of basil, and olive oil, oh, and a pinch of salt; bring to a simmer, cooking the tomatoes gently, just till they reduce a bit. refrigerate when done.

after the 4 hour bulk fermentation, scrape the dough out onto a workspace that has been oiled with olive oil, divide into two, and rest for ten minutes. after the dough has rested, oil two small bowls, large enough to hold the dough which will rise to double. cover the dough with a plate, and refrigerate. your final ferment will be 12.5 hours (or more, you can ferment the dough for 20 hours safely).

PIZZA DAY!

one FULL hour before you plan to bake preheat the oven to 550 degrees, with a pizza stone installed.

GATHER: your sauce, a fistful of basil leaves, a ball of fresh mozz, a dish with a little olive oil and a brush for brushing the dough. arrange on a kinfolkish table (photograph it and start a blog) like this:

tear a piece of parchment large enough to hold the pizza, and lay it over your pizza peel. have it waiting on your work space.

15 minutes before you plan to bake the pizza, pull the dough out and give it a poke (for fun), it should have gotten all puffy.

turn out the dough right into your hand, and stretch into a rough round, this will take 5 minutes. place the dough over the parchmented peel, stretching so that it's uniform in thickness. let it rest for 10 minutes.

brush the edges of the pizza with olive oil, and scatter with basil (i like my leaves to be submerged in the sauce. i find that when you sprinkle it over the pizza, it gets leathery).

ladle the sauce over the dough.

slice the ball of mozz and lay it about.

slide the pizza into the oven, parchment and all, and bake till the cheese bubbles and the edges grow golden.

to the staff of life!

i sent this over to wild yeast blog for the world to see.

it's just bread

i mean, it is just bread, right? so, it was a lazy sunday to be (it was friday when i decided this), i could feel it in my bones. and as a virgo, i planned for my laze by making a levain the night before the laziness really set in (you have no idea, my bones have a way of turning to jelly, and when this happens, oh man, nothing gets done but reading and stuffing my face. some people call it depression, i call it comfort zone).

many loaves that come out of my kitchen are just straight up plain, right, which is why i don't post very often. i'm baking, perhaps not posting, and i decided to post this here because i wanted to just say this, that it's just bread, okay. it's really no big deal. you've opened the cupboard, a farine reconnoiter of sorts, you saw what you had, right, maybe A/P, maybe bread flour, maybe a handful of each, and then that bit of rye that you've been meaning to deal with, because it's just sitting there putting all kinds of pressure on you.

all i had was A/P this weekend. and i was not about to go to the store. it's the nun in me. i'm not going to waste a handful of flour because there are starving people, like, everywhere, and just because i can run out and get something crazy (i can't, really), like, i don't know what, teff flour or something like that, so that i can pretend like i'm over here in some sort of lab, conjuring up all kinds of cool stuff because that's just my life, doesn't mean i'm going to. it's simple: i check the freezer - yeah, the freezer; i slice my bread and stick it in there, frugality, see, and when i'm hungry, i pry a couple of slices from the frozen block, slide it under the broiler, and there, i've got lunch - if the goods are running lean eh bien, it's time to make bread.

a boule with no name (is still a boule)

you don't have to make this some extravagant venture every time. you can (i'm serious) just sort of bake loaves if you're bored, or hungry, or you're too poor to buy someone a real birthday present. i think this batch of bread will cost you like 12¢ out the door, so you're either a cheapskate or seriously talented. whatever the case, you're terribly sophisticated to think up a loaf of bread instead of presenting your friend with a store bought piece of crap, because, yeah, that takes so much ingenuity. time is money baby, so loaves of bread baked for friends are equivalent to, say, tiffany rings with diamonds, lots of diamonds.

sometimes i think of all these ideas of things i should bake, but i never do because i'm part nun and totally broke, and all i have today (most days) is A/P or a few grams of bread flour and rye. always rye. if i don't have rye, my world stops, the world stops. so today i baked up the last of some A/P, and instead of just eating it, i snapped a few pix and decided to jot down the 'formula', if you can even call it that.

here you go. the formula below makes two loaves, i made this double batch and then another demi-batch. in the case of a demi-batch, just cut all of your measurements in half from levain down to the salt.

THE NIGHT BEFORE DOUGH DAY

make your levain:

100g starter

200g dark rye flour, i used 'to your health'

200g h2o

mix this together to make a paste and ferment. mine took 8 or 9 hours.

DOUGH DAY

make the dough:

500g levain

700g h2o

1000g KA A/P flour

25g kosher salt

mix together the levain, the flours and water until it reaches a shaggy mass. autolyse for 1 full hour. after autolyse, squish the salt into the dough with your hands.

begin the bulk fermentation. for the first two hours of the bulk fermentation, you will perform a series of turns every half hour at room temp. for the last two hours, pop the dough in the fridge and allow it to ferment, untouched.

after the bulk fermentation is complete, turn the dough out onto a counter dusted with brown rice flour, gather it up into a loose round and let it rest for 10 minutes. after it has rested, shape it into a boule.

pop this into a bowl lined with a linen that has been dusted with brown rice flour, pop in the fridge and ferment for 25 hours.

BAKE DAY

one hour before you bake, preheat the oven to 550 degrees. make sure your stone and both halves of the combo cooker are in there too.

after a FULL HOUR (i'm serious), unearth the dough onto a peel lined with a piece of parchment, score the dough in some lovely pattern, then slide it into the shallow half of the combo cooker.

pop on the top half and turn the oven down to 475 degrees. steam for 30 minutes. after the steam, remove the top half of the combo cooker using an oven mitt to avoid a nasty steam burn. turn the oven down to 450 degrees and bake until the chestnut-colored.

verdict: it's just bread. and it's FANTASTIC.

to the staff of life!

this post has been exhibited on Susan's wild yeast blog. thank you susan, for giving us a platform to share our bread!

THE PLAIN JANES