Lilith Saintcrow

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.

So The Heart Is Always Right, rough draft, is done. Clocking in at 9.7K (4.5 of that today), it’s okay and the ending is a little choppy but nothing that can’t be fixed now that the story is done and out of my head.

My burning, aching head. AGH.

I was right, in that the story had been on the back burner for a while so it just kind of slid out. On the other hand, OH GOD BRAIN HURT STABBITY.

But now I can feel good about taking Christmas Eve, Christmas, and Boxing Day off. I will be working, mind you, because the machine inside the skull doesn’t turn off ever–but it will be filling-the-well, fiddling-with-plot work on the next YA book–remember that, the 50K squeezed out for NaNo? The Muse remembers that too and wants that finished.

But oh God, not tonight.

The stories may suck, but they’re no longer sucky unfinished stories. And one can always edit.

Now if you’ll pardon me, I’m going to go stick my aching burning head in the snow. I think I can clear a patch large enough to grow crocuses in…

So the flush of feeling successful after finishing Say Yes is turning into a thudding plod of oh Christ I can’t do this when it comes to the gargoyle story. It would be fine if I could just settle and do it. But there are snowmen I have to ooh and aaah over outside (and they ARE very cute, those snowmen, especially the Easter Island one with a plant pot on its noggin). There is hot chocolate I must make and a ten-year-old who is learning the joys of ITunes. (Hey, it had to happen sooner or later.) And the laundry. And the beef stew. In short, a million things are begging for my attention.

And this gargoyle just wants to fight.

Well, that’s okay. I can give him a battle–I’ve sent in gnomes with guns and harpies.

When all else fails, gnomes with guns. *nods sagely*

They’re all slugging it out in an EvilMart. (Yes, it is what you think it is. No, I’m not going to use the actual name. I like EvilMart so much better.) And for some godawful reason known only to creative nymphs who dance in the craniums of poor wordslaves like me, the only soundtrack that will do for this short story is the Killers’ Day and Age.

Some days it really does not pay to even chew through the leather straps.

*headdesk*

Okay. Back to the gargoyle. Let’s see if I can get him on the plane to Paris with the girl, shall we?

Wish me luck.

Say Yes is finished in rough draft form, clocking in at 9.5K, which gives me some wiggle room when it comes to revising it in a little while. I had to take a couple stabs at it, and I’m still not sure the first version isn’t the better one, but I kept that version for the big slush pile because it just. Kept. Wanting. To. Be. A. Novel. Instead.

Next up is the gargoyle short story, The Heart Is Always Right. Hopefully that one has been cooking on the back burner for long enough that it will fall out of my head complete. Maybe I’ll whack at it tomorrow between cleaning and making sugar cookies, and figuring out the menu for Christmas.

Digression: There will be challah. MAYBE bretzel rolls, because someone has been lobbying hard for them. Maybe some extra-spicy gingerbread, but I don’t have the patience for more snaps. Note to self: cook the bloody things on 335-340 instead of 325. I’m just sayin’.

So Say Yes has some bits I’m not sure of. God, novels are so much less stressful for me. I am in awe of people who can turn out short fiction. Maybe I should practice…

…yeah, when I have the time. Until then, argh, we’ll continue doing shorts on the current basis. I am not going to do what I did for poetry–a poem every day for six months. GOD THAT HURT MY BRAIN. It was productive and instructive, but it was not comfortable in the slightest.

Anyway. It’s still snowbound here, though UPS got through with a Solstice gift (yay!) and the mail got through as well, and the rubbish company says they’ll be by tomorrow. Huzzah.

God. I was agonizing over this story in a big way. Last night the UnSullen One sighed and said, “Dude, you get like this every time. Usually when you’re about a half, three-quarters of the way through. Right before you sit down and a huge lump of story comes out of you. Relax. Play some WoW.”

So I did. I went to Desolace with my belf hunter and right before I went to bed I was like “OMGWTFBBQLLAMATAPIR! I KNOW HOW STORY STRUCTURED IN LAST THIRD! OOOH!”

The UnSullen One confined himself to rolling his eyes so loud they could be heard in the next county.

So I wrote down the bare bones of the scenes I needed and went to bed, and today between a bit of Solstice cleaning (a new Morrigan statue I had to find room for) the story slid out. Not painlessly–more like in a lump of steaming something. It’s raw and messy, but I am on schedule for time to leave it alone and time to revise.

Which is a good feeling. I think I deserve a wee break.

Then I’ll poke at that gargoyle. And by God he’d better not mess with me. I’m dangerous right now.