ROSE HIP JAM WITH RED WINE & APPLES

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Bar Harbor's Shore Path is lined by Rosa rugosa bushes. A Japanese native, these wild roses were introduced to Europe and America, not only for their ornamental value, but because of their extreme salt tolerance and hardiness, helping to stabilize dunes and preventing erosion in coastal areas.

Their flowers, red, pink or white, are beautiful, and their leaves glossy green. But at this time of the year it's their large rose hips that rouse the old hunter and gatherer's instincts.

When I was a child we picked rose hips mainly for their seeds  - the perfect way to annoy classmates with surprise attacks from behind. Those seeds, thrust under the shirt, itched horribly, and were quite difficult to get rid of.

Ripening rose hips

Usually it's our dog, Buffy, who decides when and where to stop, sniff (or do other things related to odors), but now I am the one who lingers among shrubs full of orange red rose hips.

This year we have an abundance of fruits, so that I could pick and choose the fattest and ripest ones - not a meager harvest like last summer, when I was too late, and had to take whatever small, wrinkly fruit was left.

Rose hips contain a lot of vitamin C

The first time I made rose hip jam was many years ago. Following a recipe from food magazine "essen & trinken", I spent hours scraping seeds from the hips, until I was ready to drop the knife.

The jam tasted good, but what a slave labor to prepare it!

When we moved to Mount Desert Island and I saw the abundance of  rose hips, I wanted to give it another try.

Looking for an easier recipe, I remembered the "hobbythek". In this old German TV show, Jean Pütz presented DIY methods for all kinds of interesting things - like cooking with wild plants and fruits.

His rose hip jam doesn't require tedious scraping of seeds, but just the removal of stems and flowers. It utilizes the natural pectin from apples, and the fruits are cooked with red wine. You need some brawn to press the cooked fruit mass through a strainer. If you own a food mill it's a little easier.

Do not try to strain all those fruits at once - your sieve or food mill gets too clogged. Process half of the mass, roughly clean your straining tool, and then do the the other half. This part is a bit strenuous, but the result is well worth the effort! The addition of lemon juice gives the mild rose hip flavor a bright note.

Necessary ingredients

 ROSE HIP JAM (4 - 5 glasses)

1.5 kg/3.3 lb rose hips
750 g/26.5 oz Granny Smith apples
550 g/19.4 oz sugar
200 g/6.8 oz water
100 g/3.4 oz red wine, dry and fruity
juice of 1/2 - 1 lemon
1 package Sure-Jell (for reduced sugar)

Place 4 - 5 clean jam glasses on a paper kitchen towel.

Wash rose hips. Remove stems and flowers. Grate whole apples coarsely.

In a small bowl, mix Sure-Jell powder and 100 g of the sugar.

In a big sauce pan, stir together rose hips, grated apples, water, red wine and remaining 450 g of the sugar. Bring to a boil, cover, and cook on low heat for 1/2 hour, stirring now and then.

Put half of fruit mass through a strainer or food mill to remove seeds and skins. Transfer back to sauce pan. Clean strainer roughly, and repeat with other half of cooked fruits.

Add lemon juice, and sugar-Sure-Jell mix, and stir well. Bring to a boil, and cook on high heat for 3 minutes, stirring constantly.

Pour hot rose hip jam in prepared glasses, filling them up to the rim. Close lids and turn glasses for 10 minutes upside down, to create a vacuum. (If you prefer to use the cook-in-the-glass method, follow the instructions in the Sure-Jell package.)

Wild roses in the Acadia National Park

 This recipe was adapted from Jean Pütz' TV show "hobbythek".

DAN LEPARD'S ALEHOUSE ROLLS

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When I was a student, I traveled with my best friend, Andrea, through England, Cornwall and Wales. We didn't have a fixed itinerary, we just followed our nose to places we had read or heard about.

We didn't stay in hotels (only once, and that was as dusty as it was expensive), we preferred B&Bs, always looking for interesting old buildings. We slept in grand manor houses, rustic inns, cozy farm houses, and even a water mill from the sixteenth century.

Old Water Mill Inn & Pub, England 1971

People always complain about the English food - I never had a really bad experience, I would always find something I liked, as long as it started with "apple" and ended with "pie"!

We often ate in pubs, having sandwiches with cheddar and chutney, and I was delighted to try the different beers.

With all these fond memories in mind - no wonder I wanted to try master baker Dan Lepard's Alehouse Rolls. You will find it in his book "Short and Sweet", or here.

I had just bought Newcastle Brown Ale at the Bangor commissary, and thought this was very appropriate for British rolls.

The dough is made with a hot beer soaker - ale and oats are brought to a boil, with butter and honey added to the hot liquid - and the rolled oats are toasted.

It also has some whole grain flour, to make the rolls even heartier (and give health conscious bakers a better conscience!)

Hot soaker with ale, oats, butter and hone

Dan Lepard has a nice, minimalistic approach to working the dough, he handles it gently, kneads it very briefly, and allows it to develop while resting (autolyse).

As a psychotherapist this method appeals to me a lot: give the patient dough the means and time to develop, without pushing and hectoring - and it will grow just fine!

At different times I had to add varying amounts of water to the final dough, the consistency should be soft and somewhat sticky.

Instead of letting the dough rest for a final 30 minutes on the counter, I did what I usually do - and put it to sleep overnight in the fridge.

This cold fermentation of the dough fits much better in my schedule than doing it all on one day. Though I like baking in the morning, I don't want to get up in the wee hours, so I prepare everything the day before, and only have the shaping and baking left to do.

Having to choose between large sandwich rolls (à 235 g a piece) or smaller dinner rolls, I opted for the more petite version - 12 rolls à 92 g.

The recipe suggests rolling the rolls first over wet kitchen paper towels and then in oat flakes. I didn't read the instructions thoroughly, and, therefore, dunked only the tops in the oat meal.

Alehouse Rolls - ready for baking

Whereas the giant sandwich rolls have to bake for 20 minutes at 210º C/410º F, and then some more at reduced heat, my little rolls were golden brown after 26 minutes (without reducing the heat.)

They tasted just as good as they looked, a semi-soft crust with a little crunch, and a hearty, somewhat nutty flavor.

I have made these rolls with rye flour and brown ale, whole wheat and stout, as well as spelt flour and a rather hoppy ale. All versions tasted excellent, spicy and slightly sweetish.


ALEHOUSE ROLLS  (adapted from Dan Lepard)
(12 Rolls)

75 g rolled oats
440 ml ale or stout
25 g butter
25 g honey
450 g bread flour
100 g rye, whole wheat, or spelt flour
6 g instant yeast
8 g salt
20 g cold water, or more, as needed (I used up to 80 g)
rolled oats, for topping

DAY 1
Toast oats in oven at 400ºF/200ºC for ca. 7-10 minutes, stirring in between, until they turn a rich golden brown (or toast them in a dry skillet on the stove top.)

In a saucepan, bring beer and toasted oats to a boil over medium heat. Remove pan from the heat, add butter and honey, stir until melted, cover, and let cool for ca. 30 minutes.

Mix flours, yeast and salt together in large bowl. Add lukewarm oat mixture and stir with your fingers, adding a little cold water if needed to make a soft, somewhat sticky dough (hand mixing gives you a better feeling for how much extra water you should add). Cover bowl and leave for 10 minutes.

Transfer dough to lightly oiled work surface, and, with oiled hands, gently knead it for 10 seconds. Scoop dough back into bowl, cover, then repeat the light knead 2 x more at 10-minute intervals. Place dough in oiled container, cover and refrigerate it overnight. (At this point I divide the dough into 2 portions).

Alehouse Roll dough after bulk rise - ready to be shaped

DAY 2
Transfer dough to lightly floured work surface. Divide it into 12 pieces. Shape into rolls.

Place sheet of wet paper kitchen towel on one dinner plate, and rolled oats on another, then roll each roll first across wet paper and then through oats. Place on parchment lined or perforated baking sheet, cover, and let rise for 45 - 60 minutes, or until they have grown by 1 1/2 times their original size.

Preheat oven to 210°C/410°F. (Steam optional.)

Bake the rolls for 12 minutes, rotate, (remove steam pan if using) and continue baking for another 13 minutes, until golden brown.

Post updated 9/6/14 to include formula and BreadStorm downloadable file.

As tasty as they look - freshly baked Alehouse Rolls.

APRICOT-PLUM GALETTE - A CURE FOR "PIE ANXIETY"

Apricot-Plum Galette, juicy and tangy

Apricot-Plum Galette, a fruity, tangy dessert, was our Avid Bakers' Challenge for August. It came just right for these hot summer days.

Abigail Dodge, author of "The Weekend Baker", calls a galette the "friendliest of all pies": ideal for people suffering from "pie anxiety". There is no double crust to deal with, no complicated lattice weaving, no edge crimping - not even a pie plate is needed.

Though I like the combination of plums and apricots - and both were available  in our supermarket - I didn't suffer so much from pie phobia, as from filling anxiety. Apricots and plums are usually only half ripe when you get them, and you never know whether they will soften into juicy goodness or mealy sourness. 

I bought my two pounds of fruit, and placed them, together with an apple, in a brown bag, hoping they would ripen in time for the challenge. 

Making the crust was no problem. Following Hanaâ's advice, I froze the cubed butter, instead of just refrigerating it. I substituted a fifth all-purpose flour for spelt flour, to have a little bit of whole grains in the crust.

Rolling the dough, transferring it into the sheet pan - no great challenge there, and no slightest twinge of pie anxiety. 

After their three days of hobnobbing with the apple, I found the apricots and plums softer and sufficiently sweet, so I didn't add any additional sugar. I forgot the lemon juice in the mix, so I belatedly drizzled a bit over the top.

The galette looked very appetizing when it came out of the oven - only the crust had cracked in several places and the pie sat in a puddle of juice!

And then came the only glitch - Abby Dodge wants you to lift the slightly cooled galette with two spatulas on a plate. This action, exercised with a metal peel and a bench knife, ended in a broken pie. 

The congealing juice stuck to the parchment paper, and the sticky surface made easy gliding impossible. The parchment paper was pushed together in wrinkles, and the galette broke apart.

Re-assembled galette, the damage is hardly visible

 I got the pie out, don't ask me how, and assembled the broken pieces on the plate, so that the galette looked almost like new. I didn't attempt to glaze it, not wanting to disturb my poor pie anymore.

But, in the end, who cares, when the the taste is right. And it WAS right! Plums, apricots and ginger made an awesome combination, and the crust was delicate and flaky. 

You'll find the recipe in "The Weekend Baker", by Abigail Johnson Dodge. She calls her recipes "irresistible" and I wholeheartedly agree. And to make this galette entirely "stress-free for busy people", I would next time line the baking sheet with aluminum foil, and move it with the pie to the platter.

And, after reading other Avid Bakers' posts, I realize that leakages rather seem to be the rule in rustic galettes, not a failure. Even master baker Joanne Chang commented in Fine Cooking: "It’s all right if some of the juices escape from the tart and seep onto the pan." 

But I still thought about how to minimize those leaks, and asked my knowledgeable daughter Valerie  what she would do.

It's great to have a chef in the family

She recommended "Bakers' Secret Weapon" - a layer of cake crumbs on the crust to soak up excess juice. Or mix the fruits with the sugar several hours before using, strain them over a bowl, and then cook the juice in a sauce pan until reduced to syrup. 

Another way to achieve a leak free crust is a French pastry bakers' technique, called fraisage. After transferring the dough to the work surface, you smear the crumbly mass repeatedly with the heel of your hand, until it is cohesive. Cook's Illustrated explains that this procedure creates long, thin streaks of butter between layers of flour and water, resulting in a sturdy, but very flaky dough.

If you would like to join the Hanaâ's Avid Bakers, take up the monthly challenge, and have the fun - here is your link:

MULTIGRAIN PITAS - TASTY POCKETS

Multigrain Pitas and Pains a l'Ancienne - I bake them every week

You can find an updated and completely re-written version of this post here.















"Can you bake pitas, too?" Kathryn, the lovely owner of A&B Naturals, asked me one day. Their usual supplier wasn't available anymore. I had never made them, so I said with conviction: "Yes!"

At least I knew where I could find a pita recipe!

In "Whole Grain Breads", one of my favorite baking books, Peter Reinhart has a recipe for whole wheat pitas. And whole grains are just what my customers at A&B prefer.

I started my first pita dough. No big deal, until I got to the shaping part. The pitas had to be rolled out  no thinner than 1/4 inch (6 mm), and to an 8-inch (20 cm) diameter. But my pitas already reached this thickness at 6 1/2 to 7 inches (16 to 18 cm.)

A high oven temperature is key to a pita's proper horizontal separation into two layers. This high temperature has to be maintained during the whole bake, from below as well as from above.

Many cheaper ovens don't heat up to the necessary 550ºF (280ºC.) Without that boost pitas can't produce the large gas bubble that creates a pocket. And without a pocket - no delicious filling!

A baking stone, or a rack lined with unglazed terracotta tiles (like I have), works best for keeping the  temperature stable, even when the oven door has to be opened several time during the baking process. And very hot stones make the best baking surface for pitas, too.

To reheat fast enough after each opening of the door I remembered Peter Reinhart's advice for baking pizza ("American Pie"), where the problem is the same: intermittently switching the oven to broil for a short time.

How many pitas can you bake at the same time? One batch of dough makes 8 (or 6, if you want larger ones.) Peter Reinhart says one at a time, but, of course, being a semi-professional this time consuming process didn't appeal to me too much.

After some trials, I found that I can put two at the same time in the oven. That's the maximum, with more it becomes very difficult to get them in and out of the oven without damage, and to keep control over their baking process.

One or two pitas can be baked at the same time

Of course, it takes a little bit of experience to slide the pitas into the oven without them folding over in one place, and to extricate them without nicking them with the paddle.

But it's not rocket science, a smart child can do it: Little Josh, our carpenter's son, thought it more fun to help with baking than reading his book!

Josh has good reason to be proud!

Slow fermentation gives this pita its excellent taste. It also softens the 7-grain mixture I substitute for some of the whole wheat flour.

I add an overnight bulk rise in the fridge, this is more practical for my schedule and, in my opinion, also improves the taste even more.

Though I often reduce the sweetener in Peter Reinhart's recipes, this whole grain bread needs the full dose.

We like our pita filled with grilled Halloumi cheese, tomato and lettuce - the way we had it in Girne/Kyrenia on Cyprus.

And how do my customers at A&B Naturals like them? They fly off the shelf so that I have to bake them every week!


MULTIGRAIN PITA  (8)

Soaker
170 g whole wheat flour
  57 g multigrain mixture (mine is made with cracked rye, wheat, barley, corn and oats, flaxseed, and millet)
    4 g salt
170 g water

Biga
227 g whole wheat flour
    1 g instant yeast
170 g water

Final Dough
All soaker and biga  (cut in pieces, they blend easier into the dough)
113 g whole wheat flour
    5 g salt
    5 g instant yeast
  28 g honey or agave nectar
  14 g extra virgin olive oil

DAY 1:
In  the morning:
In a small bowl, stir together all soaker ingredients until everything is hydrated. Cover, and leave at room temperature.

Place all biga ingredients in mixer bowl. Mix at low speed for 1-2 minutes, until all flour is hydrated. (Or stir with wooden spoon) Knead at medium-low speed (or with hand) for 2 minutes. Let rest for 5 minutes, then resume kneading for another 1 minute.

Place biga in oiled bowl, turn around to coat with oil, cover, and place in refrigerator (remove 2 hours before using.)

Evening:
Mix all final dough ingredients at low speed (or with hand) for 1-2 minutes, until combined. Knead at medium-low speed (or with hand) for 4 minutes (dough should be a bit tacky, but not sticky. If necessary, adjust with a little extra water or flour.)

Let dough rest for 5 minutes, then knead for 1 more minute. Transfer to oiled container, turn around to coat with oil, cover and place in refrigerator overnight. (Dough can be shaped cold the next morning.)

BAKING DAY:
Preheat oven as high as possible, at least to 550ºF (280ºC). Place baking stone in the upper third of oven.

Divide dough in 8 equal pieces (ca. 120 g), shape into rounds and place, seam side down, on parchment lined baking sheet or tray. Cover, and let proof for 45-60 minutes until rolls have grown to 1 1/2 times their original size.

Transfer rounds to floured work surface. Dust them well with whole wheat flour. With a few strokes, roll each piece to a 4-inch (10 cm) disk, and put them on a pile.

After all rolls are rolled out, turn pile around, so that the first disk is on top. Re-roll out disks so that they are 1/4-inch (6 mm) thick, with a diameter of 6-1/4 to 7 inches (16 -18 cm). Place (separately) on baking sheet or tray, cover, and let rest for 15 minutes.

Switch oven to broil 5 minutes before baking, so that stone gets really hot. Sprinkle peel*) with a little flour (not much is needed since pitas are fairly dry.)

Place 1 or 2 pitas on peel, and slide them onto hot baking stone. Watch them through the oven window! They start building large bubbles, and puff up like a balloon after ca. 2 minutes. Now they need only 20 seconds more to be done (they should stay soft.) Remove them with peel, and let them cool on wire rack.

Repeat with remaining pitas, always waiting for the oven to reheat again (switch briefly to broil after taking one batch out, if this takes too long.)

*) A wooden peel works best for sliding pitas into oven, but a metal one works better to remove them quickly - it has a sharper edge.

Pitas deflate quickly, once they are out of the oven

 
To store:
Multigrain pitas keep fresh for several days in a plastic bag. Normally a taboo for every bread aficionado, this is necessary to keep them soft, and prevent them from drying out.

They also freeze well, individually wrapped in plastic foil, then placed in a ZipLock bag.

(This recipe is an adaptation of Whole Wheat Pitas from Peter Reinhart's "Whole Grain Breads".

Submitted to Yeast Spotting

CLASSIC FRUIT TART

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A light, fruity dessert seems rather enticing, when temperatures reach almost 90 degrees.

The blueberries, raspberries and blackberries in our garden are still green - (and the poor little strawberries get "slugged" before they are ripe), but the supermarket has now berries in good quality - not that watery stuff from California.

Therefore, Hanaâ's Avid Bakers' Challenge for July couldn't have come at a better time - the Classic Fruit Tart from "The Weekend Baker".

Not ripe yet - blueberries in our garden

Abigail Dodge wrote this book for people who don't like spending hours in the kitchen, when smart do-ahead steps are possible, and the refrigerator is your friend.

Usually I follow Abby's make-ahead suggestions, but my oven was still hot from my Saturday bread baking, and I had invited a neighbor for tea.

And, really, what could be nicer than a toasty kitchen, heated from baking pitas at 550º F - when outside temperatures almost reach the 90 degree mark? (My husband only rolled his eyes...)

I made the dough, substituting a quarter of the all-purpose flour with spelt. Being a bit in a hurry, I chilled my finished dough disk only for 30 minutes, the minimum given time.

After preparing the pastry cream I rolled out the dough on a silicone mat. Soon I realized the impossibility of achieving the desired 14"-round, the dough started tearing, and there was no way to roll it around the pin without total disintegration.

Cooling the dough was not an option - my nice, practical King Arthur silicone mat was too large for the fridge. Its size made it also too difficult to flip it over the tart pan. Sweating and desperate, I searched my kitchen for anything that could help me get the dough in the right place.

Fortunately I found a metal cake platter that I could press on the dough, then flipping it over the tart pan. But not without mishap, the sharp fluted edge of the pan cut right through the dough, and the whole pain of rolling out the round to that size had been in vain - "for the cat", as the Germans say.

Skippy couldn't care less!

 Using the cut off dough pieces I pinched together a half-ways even rim, and put the tart in the oven. When I took it out, I saw with great displeasure that, in spite of all my gentle handling, the dough had opened up some ugly cracks in the bottom.

But pastry cream covers all baking sins with a layer of pure innocence, and fresh blackberries and raspberries gave the tart a pretty, cheerful look.

And the reward for all that effort? The tart was absolutely delicious, and everybody had a second helping!

Afterwards I looked through basic tart recipes (from William-Sonoma, "Fine Cooking" and "Cook's Illustrated") to see whether there were some helpful hints. Obviously a cooling time of just 30 minutes for the dough was not enough, it should have been 1 hour instead.

Rolling out the dough to a 14"-round for a 9"-inch pan seems rather unnecessary, 2 inches larger than the pan should have done it.

And in William-Sonoma's "Pie & Tart" I even found my own scribbled note: "Roll out the dough on a thin plastic cutting board, and flip it over the pan".  That's exactly what I will do the next time. Or just press into the pan with my fingers!

RED BERRY DESSERT - ROTE GRÜTZE

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Hot summer days and ripening berries are a sure sign of "Rote Grütze" coming up on my culinary horizon. Rote Grütze (literally translated "red gruel"- sounds awful, I know!) is a fruity, refreshingly tangy dessert, made of at least two (but better more) kinds of red berries. One should be tart, like raspberries, sour cherries, or red or black currants. The others can be strawberries, sweet cherries, blueberries, blackberries - the last two I consider honorary red berries.

Rote Grütze is a traditional dessert of Northern Germany and Denmark (where it's called Røde Grøde). In summer you'll find it on the menu of many restaurants, and every housewife in Hamburg or Esbjerg will serve it to her family, surrounded by whipped or liquid cream, vanilla sauce or vanilla ice cream.

Originally a Northern specialty, Rote Grütze became so popular that it slowly made its way further down to the South. Even conservative Bavarians - who usually poo-poo everything beyond the "weisswurst equator" - don't seem to shun this "Prussian" intruder.

Unfortunately I can't get red or black currants here in Maine - they might harbor a bug that is harmful to white firs. And fresh sour cherries are hard to find, too, only at Trader Joe's or Whole Foods, in Portland.

Therefore I like using a frozen berry mixture, adding fresh berries from the supermarket or street vendors. The use of vanilla pudding powder instead of starch is, also, very convenient. Your thickener comes prepackaged and pre-flavored.

My version is as easy to make as it tastes good. When we have a summer party, it's always a great hit with our guests, we have never any leftovers!

Ingredients:
1 package vanilla pudding powder*)
3 tbsp. cold water
500 g mixed berries, fresh or frozen (reserve 1/4 cup to add later)
3-4 tbsp. sugar, depending on tartness of berries
2-3 tbsp. Creme de Cassis (black currant liqueur), or other fruity liqueur (optional)

*) Some pudding powders are not sweetened, and some have to be dissolved in hot liquid. In those cases, add more sugar to taste, and mix with hot water. But don't add the milk as per package instructions - you are making Rote Grütze, not regular vanilla pudding!

How to make:
In a small bowl, stir together pudding powder with water, until dissolved and smooth.

In a saucepan, stir together frozen berries with sugar and thaw on low heat. Add fresh berries (except for the 1/4 cup to add later,) and stir until combined.

Add dissolved vanilla pudding powder in a steady stream, stirring constantly. Bring to a boil, stirring frequently. Reduce heat to low, and let simmer, stirring frequently until berry mixture thickens (that doesn't take very long.)

Remove from heat, and stir in remaining fresh berries and Creme de Cassis (if using). Pour into glass bowl. Let cool down to room temperature, then refrigerate until chilled.

Serve with cream, vanilla ice cream or vanilla sauce.

Tip:
If you don't like seeds in the dessert - and don't mind the extra work - puree and strain berries before adding the pudding powder.

BRIOCHE BREAD - BRAIDED INTO SUBMISSION

Our ABC challenge for June was "Brioche Bread" - we bake our merry way through Abby Dodge's wonderful book: "The Weekend Baker". I was quite pleased with Hanaâ's choice (she is the instigator of this challenge), because I like brioches.

My last memory of this buttery pleasure was my daughter's graduation from the New England Culinary Institute. I swear there was never a graduation with better food than at the Trapp Family Lodge in Vermont.

I had made brioches twice before, one from a German baking book - hard work, kneading the butter into the dough (my hands hurt!) but great taste. The second one an easier recipe from Peter Reinhart, less rich, but, unfortunately, also less satisfying.

Following Abby's do-ahead suggestion, I mixed the dough in the evening, before putting it to sleep  in the fridge.

Due to my inexperience with this particular kind of dough - my two earlier bakes were a long time ago - I was a bit leery about over-mixing. When, after the required kneading time, the dough did not pull away from the bottom of the bowl, I gave it a few more minutes, and then started feeding it with butter, no matter what.

Even though I had already cut the butter in 16 (instead of 8) pieces, I found that it took quite long for them to be absorbed into the dough. The dough got warmer and warmer - and I got cold feet!

When the temperature reached over 90ºF, visions of dying yeast cells caused me to rip the bowl from under the dough hook, taking it to a safe, cooler place. It was smooth, but still sticky, so I applied two stretches and folds, with a 10 minute break, before placing it in the refrigerator.

Overnight the dough had risen mightily, and would have busted the lid, if that had been less tight. After giving it an hour to warm up a bit, I started with the shaping process. But this dough didn't play by the recipe's rules, it clung to every surface it could reach.

With oiled hands and bench, I forced it finally into submission, rolling it into shaggy strands (where was the promised smoothness?), braiding it into a halfway decent plait, and sprinkling it with chopped hazelnuts to give it a bit of crunch.

As if nothing had happened, my loaf rose nicely, and looked quite pretty, when it came out of the oven.The crust had a nice, nutty crunchiness, and the crumb was soft and rich.

And the taste? Maybe I'm spoiled by my memories, and the subtle orange blossom flavor of the Mexican "Pan de Muerto" I just made.

Abby's "Brioche Bread" is a nice loaf, mild, neither too rich, nor too sweet - but will not make it into my most memorable Bread Hall of Fame.