Lilith Saintcrow

You know, when things are all set sideways from the moment one opens one’s eyes. Working out helps, but the itchy feeling of a story under the skin doesn’t. I lost about 2K going through and tightening the second YA book, and gained one and a half of new stuff. Just going through to the end is the best bet, I think. Funny how one has to relearn that with every book.

I’m thinking for the New Year I’ll start looking at nutrition as well as exercise. The exercise is fast becoming a habit, but I have to look at what I’m eating too. This will be a challenge because I like to eat and I don’t see any reason to start the stupid heinous cycle of denial and binge every “diet” out there programs one for.

Food is a problem for me anyway. You’d be such a pretty girl if you lost some weight…now finish everything on your plate, I worked hard to get you that food! It costs money and so do you!

Yeah. You get the idea. So we’ll think about this and take it in little tiny stages.

Anyway. A lovely New Year’s Eve to you. Stay safe out there–I stay home until late on New Year’s Day or the 2nd, because I don’t like messing with drunks on the road. Best just to stay home and avoid the whole circus. I might have a celebratory glass of wine, but that’s about it. Big fun at Casa Saintcrow.

It’s official–I just sent off Say Yes to the editor. We’ll see what she says.

I have the best beta in the WORLD. Amazingly, she found the story pretty clean, and pinpointed a couple of thematic threads I had dropped. So, wove those back in, got rid of some repeated words, changed some things around, and voila. The story is oodles better. For a YA vampire short, it’s pretty dark–but then, this is me we’re talking about. Sweetness and light doesn’t exactly happen in my head.

Now it’s just the gargoyle story. I’m ahead of schedule, so this should be good even if it needs a hideous amount of work on it to make it decent.

I think most of today is going to go toward reading SA again, so that I can start the lunge toward the end of the second book. Or I might just say “to hell with it” and throw out another chunk of the second book, and fix anything that needs to be fixed later after the corpse is finished and I reread the first one. I feel itchy today, like I have a pile of text wanting to break out for freedom through my fingers.

Not much else to report. I’m taking advantage of the decent (kind of) weather to air the house out. Soon I’ll close it back up and turn the heaters back on.

As a matter of fact, I’m chilled. Might as well do that now.

Catch ya on the flip side, Readers.

I spent some time this weekend working on the wiki. I got the glossary from the Danny Valentine series input and will start working on the Kismet glossary next. I really want to have the terms from Steelflower put in so I can refer to them while writing the second one, but such is life. Got to work with what I have in front of me and prioritize and all that jazz.

So a lot of you ask me for recipes. Lots of the recipes I use (for I am a junior cook) come from books I feel a little uncomfortable quoting from, even with attribution. I will get over this as I get more comfortable with cooking. Since you guys have been asking I will try to get over that discomfort sooner rather than later. It shouldn’t be a problem with proper attribution, right?

Anyway, I did three spectacular French bread mini-baguettes this last week and thought I would share that recipe with you, since it’s simple and easy, if time-intensive.

INGREDIENTS

2c. tepid water
1 Tb yeast (or slightly less, I fudge sometimes on the yeast)
6c. flour
1 Tb kosher salt

Please, for the love of God, use King Arthur or Bob’s Red Mill or quality bread flour. Do not use Gold Medal. Please. Gold Medal and other cheap flours do not have the protein content necessary to make good bread. You can fudge by adding gluten, about 1 Tb. per 2c of crappy flour, but seriously, the investment in good bread flour is well worth it and I think it ends up being cheaper in the long run.

WHAT YOU DO

Okay. French bread is super-simple but it’s time-intensive. Dump the water and the yeast into the mixer bowl and let them stand for ten minutes. (If you don’t have a mixer that can handle bread dough, get ready to knead.[1]) After about ten minutes the yeast should be dissolved and “creamy”. Turn your mixer on low (with the dough hook in) and add the 6c of flour (see below), a cup at a time, just until the dough comes together in a shaggy mass. Then turn the mixer off and let the mess sit for 15 minutes.

This is important. It’s called the autolyse and it allows for development of gluten as well as making it easier to knead by hand (should you wish to do so). It makes a lighter bread with a better crumb, and it’s well worth the fifteen minutes. This is another reason why kitchen timers are my best friend.

After the autolyse, come back to the dough and turn your mixer on low. Let it mix for a couple minutes. This is when you add the salt. Two things here: I use kosher salt for baking; it really does make a difference and it’s cheap, too. Also, you do not add the salt until this stage because it makes the gluten fibers shorten and contract.

Here’s where a certain amount of trial and error comes in. I like my French bread dough to be just this side of tough. It’s a very dry dough that cleans the sides and bottom of the mixer bowl and, if you turn the mixer up, wraps around and slaps the side of the bowl. It’s a distinctive sound, that slapping, and one every baker lives for.

About five minutes of my KitchenAid mixing does the trick. Your mixer may vary, and if you’re kneading by hand you’re looking for a dough that doesn’t stick to your hands and cleans off your work surface. Two cups of water to six cups of flour is a good rule of thumb for me, mostly because I (big baking secret here) spoon the flour into a measuring cup and then level it off with a knife. This is something you should do every time you measure out flour, because of the tendency of flour to compact and give you much more than you bargained for.)

Now that you’ve got your nice smooth dough (it feels a little bit like Play-Doh but without the graininess) comes the most difficult part of French bread–letting it rise enough.

You probably can’t just let it rise for an hour, punch down, let it rise for 45 minutes and stick it in the oven. The flavor of French bread depends largely on the rising, which gives the flour time to break down completely and make that good, good gluten. This is also part of the reason why I plead with you not to use cheap flour. Also, there is no sugar to give the yeast a swift kick–it has to break down the flour, which as a process takes longer than the sugar rush.

I usually have to let my French bread initially rise for two hours. I put it in a greased (olive-oil cooking spray) medium-sized mixing bowl and put that in a 2.5 gallon Ziploc, which not only seals out perniciousness but gives the dough plenty of room. My kitchen is usually pretty warm, so I’ll pick an out-of-the-way spot, set my trusty kitchen timer, and bebop away. Check on it an hour later, marvel at how it hasn’t risen, kick myself for being a bad baker, set timer again and bebop away. Come back an hour later and congratulate myself for not being such a bad baker after all.

Cheap thrills, I know.

You want the dough to double at least, and it probably won’t do that in just an hour. Give it plenty of time and don’t rush this part of the process.

Now comes the shaping!

Chop the dough with your trusty dough scraper[2] into three pretty-equal portions. Take one portion and smush it out into a rough rectangle–but gently, because you want to keep some of the air bubbles in it intact. Now, roll it up the long way–that is, start at a long edge of the rectangle and roll it up like a cinnamon roll. Pinch it closed and tuck the ends under, and you’ve got a tolerable baguette-shape.

I like to bake my baguettes in this trusty little pan I picked up at Bob’s Red Mill out in McMinnville (damn but that store is dangerous to my bank account). Please, for the love of God, REMEMBER TO HOLD IT OVER YOUR SINK AND SPRAY IT WITH COOKING SPRAY/OLIVE OIL SPRAY. I prefer the olive oil spray, but either will do. You want to make sure you can get the baguettes OUT of the pan after baking (trust me on this) and spraying it over linoleum flooring is a Bad Idea. (Don’t ask. Just…don’t ask.) You could also hold them during the second rise with a heavy floured cloth, but if you’re advanced enough to do that I don’t need to tell you, right?

Shape and plop in the other baguettes. You can stretch them out a little if you want, and they do not have to be perfect. This is home baking, after all.

Now they rise again. I like to put them in that old trusty 2.5 gallon Ziploc and cover the open end with a kitchen towel. This rise can be as short as 45 minutes or as long as an hour, because the yeast has a fresh crop of food and is working overtime. When the baguettes have doubled in size, that’s about when you should bake them.

Twenty minutes before you’re going to bake them, turn your oven on 450. Put a cast-iron skillet on the bottom rack, you’re going to be baking on the middle rack. If you have a baking stone, it can stay on the bottom rack. I suppose you could take the baguettes out of the pan and cook them on a stone, but I don’t. I cook ‘em in the pan, because I like the convenience and the little bubble-shapes on the bottom of the loaf. You can also shape them and let them rise on a big ol’ (greased or parchement-lined) baking sheet if you want. Remember, reasonable convenience is the name of this game.

When your baguettes are finished rising and your oven is preheated, get a small coffee mug[3] and put three or four ice cubes in it. Splash a little water in there too. Then, slash the tops of your baguettes (I do three slashes with a sharp knife, but a serrated knife or a baking razor will do the trick too.) and slide the pan into the oven.

Now, very quickly, toss the ice cubes and water in the skillet on the bottom rack and close the oven, and turn it down to 400. The burst of steam will give you a nice crust, and the overheating to begin with means your oven is at a good steady temperature all the way through the baking cycle. You can also spray the oven walls with water before you close the door, but I don’t like that–too much chance of spraying the bread, which will give your crust spots, and it doesn’t provide steady enough steam. The skillet method works wonders, is relatively cheap (because you can use a cast-iron skillet for ALL SORTS OF THINGS, from bonking home invaders on the head to cooking flapjacks) and is easy-peasy, all things I applaud.

Each oven is different, so here is another place where trial and error comes in. I bake my baguettes for 22 to 24 minutes. I know they’re done when they:

* smell right, something that is difficult to explain
* make a hollow sound when I tap their tops
* look right, another hard-to-explain thing.

Your oven may take 20-28 minutes to bake, depending. YMMV. The best indicator is that lovely hollow sound when you thump the middle of the loaf.

Now, once the timer rings and your loaves are golden-brown and hollow when you thump ‘em, turn off your oven and prop the door open just a little, and leave the baguettes in there for 2-4 minutes. This last step makes sure they bake for the maximum amount of time without burning, which gives you lovely caramelized crusts and long shiny strands of gluten. Take ‘em out and immediately pop them on a wire rack to cool.

I like to use these with soup, and when they are two-three days old (which rarely happens) I slice them up and drizzle them with olive oil, sprinkle with garlic, and broil them for crostinis. Mmmmmmhhhhh.

French bread is simple because it’s just flour, salt, yeast, and water. It looks hard only because it’s time-intensive–that simplicity means you have to allow the yeast enough time to do its thing. The variables–quality of flour, time spent rising, the temperature of the oven, etc., etc., are all easy to control with a little thought on the part of the home baker.

So, enjoy! I’ve got a couple of short stories to polish today, so I bid you a civil adieu and much luck with the baking.

[1] The best thing for my baking has been my handy-dandy KitchenAid Professional 600. And when I get the pasta attachment…look out, world!
[2] I know cash is tight these days. I do advocate the proper tools because I’m a baking fiend, but there is almost always a way around the tool if you really can’t afford it. That is the spirit of home baking, I think, because this should be fun. There’s precious little reason to do it otherwise. I’ve had enough of cooking being a chore and an almighty-nasty-time. I want it to be fun.
[3] I don’t like doing this with a glass because they can slip and then there’s all sorts of nastiness ensuing. Coffee mugs are tough, they hold enough, and they have the nice handle so you don’t lose your grip and toss them into the oven. Again, just…don’t ask. Trust me.

This past Christmas was honestly the best I can remember. It was very low-key–the kids opened their presents, we ate ham early and watched the Red Green Show (which is, seriously, one of my favorite television shows EVAR). The Princess got an IPod, the Prince got a Tetris game and more Hot Wheels than you could shake a stick at, the Teen got a graphics tablet. (He’s been yearning for one ever since we visited Josh in NY.) There were assorted little presents, but those were the biggies. The Muffin and I got the satisfaction of a whole day of relaxation.

Hey, it sounds less than it is, but it’s not. So to speak.

I also, over the Christmas break, got on Goodreads. So if you’re looking for my author profile it’s here. Big fun for everyone.

Most awesome thing about this holiday season? No drama. There wasn’t a single drop of drama to be had.

I didn’t miss it.

The snow is melting pretty quickly, and the roads are sloppy but navigable. Yesterday was a bit chancy (got stuck three times, on roads that aren’t well-traveled) but all things worked out well and the big thaw is well under way. A couple of forty-degree days and the snow just slide right off. Now the only thing we have to worry about is the flood warning. Since we’re on a hill, that warning doesn’t mean much to us. There are little jewels of water hanging on every evergreen needle and bare branch outside. It’s like the trees have been dipped in tiny crystals.

I’m actually feeling very calm. It’s very strange to not be a ball of raw nerves and stress at this time of the year, but I like the change. I’m sleeping more, and moving a little bit slower during the day, my body taking its sweet time for once. The expectation of stress has been the weirdest thing to deal with–I’ll stop and think why am I feeling like this? and I figure out after a few moments of thorough thought that I’m expecting the hammer to fall, and nervous because it hasn’t.

I look forward to the time when I don’t have that expectation of stress. I think I’ll get there.

Anyway, I put the bone from the Christmas ham in split-pea soup for tonight. At about four o’ clock I’ll cut up more ham and dump it in after I use the handheld mixer on the soup. It should thicken up nicely. It’s very good to be going at what I suspect is a more normal pace instead of hellbent for leather, which is my regular speed. I can kind of feel the chafing, the urge to go back to that pace, under the surface of my skin. But not very strongly. I have a day or so more of a slower pace before I have to take the deep breath and dive again.

I intend to love every minute of it.

It’s snowing again. The entire street looks like a greeting card. The back yard looks like it’s covered in whipped topping–the peaks and valleys of kid footprints last night have turned into dimples and soft peaks like beaten egg whites.

It’s beautiful.

We celebrate Solstice around here, and Christmas is mainly for the kids getting to rip up wrapping paper. For many reasons, this year’s holiday season has been…well, tremenjous. I think this is the first Christmas season I’ve ever enjoyed. Ever. For a variety of reasons.

Christmas Eve is usually a time for me to indulge in a bad-tempered post about how people should be decent all year round, not just thinking one day of putting up with their family or being passively-aggressively nice to people makes up for 364 of being an asshole to all and sundry. There. Duty done.

So this year, the holiday season is actually nice for me. It’s awesome. Thank you to everyone who helps make it so–you, dear Reader, and the Muffin, the Princess, the Prince, and the UnSullen one, the Selkie, my F-list, my editors, the dedicated fans over on the forum and…

…there are too many to thank. This is a good problem to have.

And so to you, whoever you are: I hope you are safe, happy, and healthy. Thank you for being my cohabitant on Earth. Thank you for being part of humanity. Have a good holiday, of whatever stripe you prefer to celebrate.

Peace.