I like the way we are rarely in control of bread dough, the way it appears to have a mind of its own. And why shouldn't it – yeast is, after all, very much a living thing. We spend too much of our cooking time trying to be in charge of our ingredients, of making them do only what we want them to. Bread dough will often resist our attempts at complete control, and will rise or fall as it wishes, take its time or surprise us with its spontaneity.
The mindfulness of a lump of dough and its ability to go as the mood takes it is partly why baking gives me so much pleasure… I quite like the element of surprise. This is why there is so much beauty in a handmade loaf, each side slightly different from the other, every way you turn it has a different appeal. The soft hillocks and valleys of the uneven crust, the folds and ripples of the sides. Failure is of little consequence. Toast isn't a bad last resort.
Rather than my usual easy white loaf, this week I made small rolls with spelt flour. The idea was to stuff them with a hastily made filling, in the style of pitta. I have always liked Elizabeth Raffald's 1782 recipe for mushroom rolls from The Experienced English Housekeeper, where she hollows out rolls that have been crisped up in the oven, then stuffs them with a mixture of creamed mushrooms. It works well for a light weekend lunch. What actually happened was that I tossed the cream out and turned Mrs Raffald's unctuous filling into a mildly spiced stew whose woodsy quality worked nicely with the wholemeal rolls. A stew we could eat with our hands. The hot juices from the filling soaked through the dough, a satisfying contrast to the crisp crust of the rolls.
The reason for making individual rolls rather than a large loaf is down to the quantity of crust you get for your effort. (I sometimes feel I would be happy with the crust alone.) Although I have baked bread for years I rarely make individual rolls, as they keep less well than a loaf, though that is of little importance when you are passing them round the table, warm, to mop up a stew.
I find the crispest crust usually comes from being brave with the temperature. I crank it up as high as it will go. When a cake is put in an oven that is too hot, the outside will burn before the inside is even approaching doneness; yet with bread rolls, the dough inside seems happy to find itself in an inferno, cooking to perfection in less than 15 minutes. This week I made two batches, one with dried yeast and one with fresh. The latter made a softer, more open dough, and rolls of a wilder and more interesting shape. Dough with a mind of its own.
SPELT ROLLS
First, bake the rolls. These can be cooked in an exceptionally hot oven, as the crumb cooks quickly, so there is no risk of them being undercooked in the middle.
300g wholemeal spelt flour
200g strong white bread flour
1 heaped tsp fine sea salt
7g packet of instant dried yeast or 15g fresh yeast
350ml water
DIRECTIONS
Put the two flours in a large bowl and add the salt. Stir in the yeast. (If you are using fresh yeast, crumble it into the water and stir to dissolve it.) Pour the water into the flour. Stir to a soft dough then tip out on to a floured board.
The dough will be quite sticky at this stage, but keep kneading it for a good eight or nine minutes. This sounds a long time, but it shouldn't be hard work. If it is, then you are probably kneading too hard. I knead firmly but gently, working the dough with my hands, pushing it flat with my palms then folding the far edge back into the dough. As you knead, the dough will become drier and tighter. It will feel alive.
Shape the dough into a ball and put it back into the floured bowl. Cover with a warm, damp cloth and leave in a warm place for about an hour, until it is roughly twice its original volume. I have tried almost every room in the house for this and find the work surface at the side of the Aga, or the shelf above the radiator in the kitchen gets the quickest results, but even at ordinary room temperature it should be up in an hour or so.
Cut the dough into small pieces roughly 70g each. Shape each one into a rectangle then bring the side furthest away from you down towards the centre, press firmly with your fingers, then roll into a sausage shape, making the ends narrower than the centre. Place them on a lightly floured baking sheet. Dust generously with flour and leave in a warm place, covered by a tea towel, for 30 minutes or so until they have risen once more.
Set the oven at 240C/gas mark 9. Bake the loaves for 15-20 minutes until they are crisp and dark outside and sound hollow when tapped on the bottom. Remove and cool on a wire rack. (They won't keep longer than a day or so, but will freeze.)
A STEW OF MUSHROOMS WITH ONION AND FENNEL SEEDS
Any small mushrooms would work well here, cooked with the onions, garlic, fennel and white wine. I used small, common button mushrooms and a few of the larger chestnut mushrooms at first, but then introduced some more unusual varieties the second time around. It pushed the cost up a bit, but there was much pleasure to be had from the different textures. A few dried mushrooms here would be worth a thought, too. They are completely optional, but will introduce a deeper, more earthy flavour. If you are using them, soak them for 15 minutes or so before you start.
Serves 2
1 handful dried mushrooms (optional)
1 tsp fennel seeds
2 garlic cloves
1 tsp crumbled dried chillies
2 large onions
3 tbsp olive oil
a long strip of orange zest
450g small, mixed mushrooms
1 glass white wine or white vermouth
1 handful roughly chopped flat-leaf parsley
DIRECTIONS
Toast the fennel seeds in a dry frying pan for a minute or two until they start to pop. Peel the garlic cloves and crush them with a good pinch of salt. Add the fennel seeds and dried chillies.
Peel and finely slice the onions. Warm the oil in the frying pan and add the garlic mixture, letting it sizzle gently. Add the onions and the strip of orange zest, letting them soften, moving them round the pan from time to time.
Check the mushrooms for grit, cutting any larger ones into small pieces. Stir them into the onion mixture and continue cooking until they are very pale gold. Add the dried mushrooms at this point, if using them. Tip in the wine, letting it bubble merrily until it has almost evaporated. Season with black pepper and a little salt, and stir in the chopped parsley.
Serve either on toasted bread, on toasted polenta, with brown rice or stuffed into split rolls.
