Can It Brie So Simple?

It can brie Goat brie!

Shane and I entertained our first "couple" for supper yesterday evening. Wanting to serve our main course hot (or at the very least, fresh), I waited until our guests arrived before searing three plump and tender pork chops to serve in my Shane-requested port wine cream sauce. However, our newly arrived and ravenous guests would not go hungry, and chips and dip a la Emilie were quickly devoured.

I wanted an impressive, yet fuss-free appetizer to fend off impatient hungries. Goat brie, conveniently packaged in an edible crust and gently heated, lends its tangy, creamy qualities to an instant dip. On its own, the cheese's flavor works well with apples and plain water crackers or slices of baguette, spread with butter and lightly toasted. As acceptable as these alternative appealed to me, I wanted to try an appetizer I'd been concocting in my head -- a dinner party-worthy cheese dip, sans any shelf-stable jar or box of cheese product. Fresh herbs, a few chopped scallions, and freshly ground pepper are all the components for an appetizer casual and elegant -- enough to complement burgers and beer on the lawn or pork chops around the dining room table.

So Simple Thyme and Brie Dip

Serves 4 guests, hungry and awaiting the supper that sizzling on the stove:
1 round brie, goat or cow (about 4.5 - 5 ounces)
Handful chopped fresh thyme
4 scallions, chopped, including some green from the tops
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Carefully slice the top off the brie. Discard it, or save it for later (or just eat it when no one is looking). Place cheese in an oven save dish (and for ease of removing dish from the oven, place dish on a baking sheet), and bake it for 10-15 minutes, until cheese is soft and runny.

Remove dish from the oven, and add the thyme, chopped scallions, reserving a few green pieces for garnish) and freshly ground pepper to the cheese and mix into the brie, being careful not to break through the crust. Place dish back into the oven for 10 minutes. Remove dish from oven 5 minutes before serving, and over the top of the cheese, scatter the remaining scallion greens. Serve with gourmet potato chips.

Easy-Peasy or Asparagus "Risotto"

I like sticky rice. I always look forward to the bowl-shaped mound of sticky rice that accompanies my Thai curry basil. When I make red beans and rice, I purposely overcook the Basmati rice a touch just so the grains stick together for a pleasantly gluey feel in my mouth.

Creamy, small grains of rice that are melded together with the help of cheese, wine, and chicken broth, naturally, I’m a huge fan of risotto, when someone else makes it. Hey, I love making complex dishes, I love standing in front of my stove creating and cackling, but for all the love of my labor, I cannot make a satisfying risotto when my stomach is on an early schedule and my planned meal will not arrive until later in the evening. Sure, there are boxed instant risottos, and I am sure there is even parboiled Arborio Rice. Honestly, I never thought of these options, and I cannot even say they appeal to me. From scratch is my motto. However, fast and from scratch is my mission.

After a day of schlepping files and standing at the copy machine, I cannot stand the sound of my stomach’s whining. When it is time to appease my belly's infant-like tendencies and my longing for creamy rice-like dishes, I whipped up a short, pasta version of risotto using orzo pasta in place of risotto. Innovative? Not especially. Dang good? You know it!

Asparagus and Shrimp "Risotto"

This is one pasta dish that begs to not be al dente. Allow the orzo to get very soft and creamy

For two servings:

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
12 oz asparagus, woody ends trimmed, cut into 1 inch pieces
2 cloves garlic, smashed, green germ removed, and minced
8 oz shrimp

2/3 cup dry orzo ½ cup white wine
1 - 2 cups chicken stock
½ cup or so grated Parmigiano Reggiano
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

In a large skillet, heat butter. Add asparagus and sauté until they are crisp tender, about 8 to 10 minutes. Add garlic and shrimp. Sauté until shrimp is just turning opaque, about 2-3 minutes. Turn off heat, remove skillet from burner, salt and pepper mixture to taste, and cover to keep warm. Not only do I usually cover the skillet, to get the skillet out of my way, I'll put the it in my oven (not heated) until I'm ready to add the asparagus and shrimp to the rest of the dish.

While asparagus and shrimp are cooking, bring wine and 1 cup of stock to a boil and add orzo. Cook, uncovered, letting the liquid simmer merrily, letting the orzo absorb the wine and broth. If the liquid in the pot is absorbed and the orzo is not soft and creamy, add more stock. When orzo has reached your preferred stage of creamy and liquid is almost absorbed, add the Parmigiano Reggiano, asparagus, shrimp, and salt and pepper to taste.

If the variety police are patrolling, here is an equally good variation:

Prosciutto and Baby Pea "Risotto"

2 medium shallots
1 tablespoon butter

½ cup white wine
1 - 2 cups chicken stock
2/3 cup dry orzo
½ cup or so grated Parmigiano Reggiano
1 cup frozen baby peas
3 oz prosciutto, chopped
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Sauté shallot and butter together in a medium stock pan. Add wine and stock. Bring to a boil. Add orzo and proceed as above but add the peas to the orzo and liquid during the last 4 minutes of cooking the pasta. Add Parmigiano Reggiano, Prosciutto, and salt and pepper to taste.

Now I Gnocchi!

It’s just plain fun to say “gnocchi.” Perhaps this is what prompted me to try this silky and luscious potato dumpling.

Shane: What are we having for supper this evening?
Emilie: Gnocchi. Giggle, snort.

For those who want to pronounce ga-nawchee (much the way I pronounced it until a friend of mine who claims to be Italian laughingly corrected me), repeat aloud: no-chee. Almost akin to saying “no-cheese,” but my gnocchi had Parmigianino grated into the dough.

Admittedly, my little dumplings were not very eye-appealing. Because they were so sticky, as I plopped them one-by-one into boiling water, I could not keep them in their original, pillow-shaped stage. Gnocchi are fickle little guys. At first they want plenty of flour to bind the potatoes, eggs, and spices. However, too much flour and they become bloated and anchored, refusing to free their little gnocchi-selves to rise to the top of the boiling water. Wouldn’t you just gnocchi?

To dignify the not-so-uniform appearance of my gnocchi, I topped the gnocchi with some of my basic marinara enhanced with a touch of well-aged and earthy Gorgonzola cheese. Without the added blue cheese, marinara sauce is just red sauce: tomatoes, onion, garlic, olive oil, and fresh basil. It’s meant to top pizza crusts, be mixed with meat and wine for ragu, or sometimes added to Italian soups for extra punch. If I have some marinara in the freezer, I’ve been known to make a bean and tomato sauce with bacon, and in a pinch on a busy night and when the budget says “recess,” it is tasty enough to toss with plain pasta, cheese or no cheese. Gnocchi, however, is no plain pasta. With enough body to strut in only stilettos, less is certainly more when it comes to how gnocchi should dress. Fitting a lightly sweetened gnocchi with a heavy sweater of red is a fall fashion travesty. How will I do things differently next time? To serve the gnocchi with browned butter mingled with fresh thyme could quite possibly become my fall of ’08 runway hit.

Just the Gnocchi:

Four servings

1 pound russet potatoes
1 pound orange-fleshed sweet potatoes
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
2 cloves of garlic, green germ removed and minced
½ cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
½ teaspoon salt
A couple of pinches of nutmeg
Freshly ground black pepper
1 ¼ to 1 ½ cups all purpose flour plus more for dusting

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Prick russet and sweet potatoes, wrap them each in foil, and bake for 1 hour or until soft. Remove from oven and let cool. Once potatoes have cooled enough to handle, peel potatoes and pat off any excess water. Using a standard potato masher, mash potatoes together in a large bowl. Try to mash as many lumps out as you can, although I admit that I left a few lumps on accident. It didn’t seem to hurt the texture. If you own a potato ricer, dust it off, thank the person who gave it to you as an oddball present, and try it. I wish I had one.

Bring a pot of water to boil. Rip up some sheets. Panic. Oh, wait, I’m not in a sitcom and Lucy is not giving birth. However, do start a pot of water to boil because after the flour is added to the dough, you will want to test a dumpling.

Make a well in the mashed potatoes. Add the egg and egg yolk, garlic, cheese, salt, nutmeg, and pepper. Mix well. My hands were the best instrument in this case. Go ahead, get them dirty. Sprinkle about a ½ cup of flour over the mixture and press it in to the dough. Fold dough and sprinkle over more flour. Keep doing this with the remainder of the flour until the dough begins to hold together. You may not need all the flour. In fact, I’d recommend not using all the flour. When the dough is rolled, it will pick up more flour, and you do not want overly-floured gnocchi dough. Do not be afraid of sticky dough. Yes, sticky dough does make ugly gnocchi, but too stiff of a dough will produce a heavy dumpling that will not float. Form a ½ inch piece from the dough and drop it into the boiling water. It should only take about 1 – 1 ½ minutes for the dumpling to float. If the dumpling looks feathery and eventually falls apart, add more flour to the dough. If the dumpling does not float, too much flour has been added to the dough.

Much like an Olympic swimmer soaring to the water’s surface, I’m sure your test piece of gnocchi swam flawlessly to the top of the water. So now the dough is ready to roll and cut. Sprinkle a bit of flour on your work surface, and flour your hands. Divide the dough into 4 to 6 pieces. Keeping the unused dough covered, roll each piece into a ½ inch log and with a serrated knife cut log into ½ inch pieces. The pieces will not be pretty, and your stomach will not care. Continue rolling and cutting with the remainder of the dough keeping the unused dough and formed gnocchi covered.

I hope your water is still boiling. In batches, submerge the dumplings into the boiling water. With a slotted spoon, be ready to scoop the dumplings as they start floating toward the top. It’s likely they will not all cook at the same time, so don’t leave the early developers while you’re waiting for the rest of the dumplings to rise to the surface. Let cooked gnocchi drain in a strainer. After all the gnocchi are cooked, serve with your choice of sauce, keeping in mind you don’t want to cover the delicate taste and texture with anything heavy. Serve with a light salad and a medium-dry white wine.

*Make extra gnocchi and freeze uncooked gnocchi on a cookie sheet lined with wax paper. Once frozen (about an hour later) place gnocchi in a freezer safe bag. When ready to cook, no thawing is necessary; just cook the frozen gnocchi as usual. Talk about an easy weeknight meal!

Flour, Water, Salt

Concepts that float around and somewhat astound me: people born in 1998 are turning 10 years old this year, which means I will celebrate my 30th birthday this July; Shane enjoys cleaning the bathroom; and a small boule of artesian bread costs $3.00. Add walnuts or raisins to the bread and add another $2.00 to the cost.

What makes bread? Bread is made from flour, water, salt, and leavening, and leavening in this case is a pinch of active yeast juxtaposed with time.

So I will make my own $3.00 bread. In fact, as a good night’s sleep gave me a brilliant idea as I was mixing the ingredients for my dough. I will add fresh thyme and increase the value of my bread to $5.00. Brilliant! I hastily cleaned and stripped thyme twigs. Brilliant! What else can I contribute to my dough? Dried Kalamata figs? I hurriedly chop 3, no 6 figs and add them to the mix. Just right for a small, yet fig-filled, loaf, six figs and about two tablespoons of fresh thyme tickled my nose as I kneaded this morning’s loaf. How fancy of me.

As the loaf baked, comforting smells of sweet and savory drifted in and out of the kitchen. However, the taste of both the thyme and figs were lost in the overall loaf. On my next attempt at a fancy loaf, I will double the amount of figs, and up the thyme to three tablespoons for a one pound (or just under) loaf of bread. If you like a more subtle loaf, keep the amounts as written in my recipe. Typed in parentheses are amounts I believe will make a stronger flavored loaf. I’ll file this one under “still experimenting.”

My First Attempt at a Fig and Thyme Boule

½ cup all purpose flour
¼ cup whole wheat flour
½ cup lukewarm water
1/8 teaspoon active dry yeast

Mix ingredients together in a large bowl, cover, and let sit overnight up to 12 hours. Mixture will be bubbly by the end of 8 hours, but I leave mine for almost 12 hours to increase the flavor of the bread.


When ready to knead the dough, add to the above mixture:

1 ½ cups all purpose flour
½ cup whole wheat flour
1/8 teaspoon active dry yeast
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons fresh thyme (3 tablespoons)
6 medium to large dried figs, roughly chopped (12 large)

Add 1 – 1 ½ cups lukewarm water to the mixture. Feel your way through the dough. Sticky dough is good, but do not allow the dough to become soupy. If too much water is added, balance it with a few spoonfuls of flour. The sticky dough will become firmer as the flour soaks up the excess water. Knead dough until it is firm, bouncy, and it passes the windowpane test. This could take up to 20-25 minutes. If you’re used to kneading bread dough in a food processor or with dough hooks in a stand mixer, feel free to do so. I have never kneaded dough with anything but my ten digits, two palms, and a lot of four letter words, so I have no clue how long either of these machines will take to knead bread dough. However, if kneading by machine, I would recommend adding the figs afterwards and just kneading them in by hand until they are incorporated into the dough. A few figs will pop out of the dough on occasion; just poke them back into the dough.

Shape dough into a tight ball and place in a lightly greased large bowl. Cover with plastic wrap or lid. Let rise for 2-3 hours, or until dough has doubled in size. Punch down dough and shape into a boule or whatever shape is preferred. I shaped my dough into a boule and let it rise freeform. However, I usually prefer shaping it to fit my 9 inch round rising basket.

Okay, it’s shaped. To keep dough from drying out on top, I cover the top of the dough with greased plastic wrap. Some bakers prefer lightly dusting a tea towel (non-fuzzy towel) with flour and draping that over the top of the dough, but I’ve never had luck with the towel’s not sticking to the dough.

Rise bread for half as long as the first rise, 1 – 1 ½ hours. At least 30 minutes before the bread has finished rising, preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Slash bread and bake for 30-35 minutes. I usually bake my bread for 35 minutes, but I like well-browned bread. To check for doneness, insert an instant read thermometer into a conspicuous section of the bread (somewhere on the bottom). When it reads 190 – 200 degrees, bread is done. Remove bread from the oven and let cool on a rack completely before slicing.

Listen closely to the bread. When it’s fresh from the oven the bread will sound of crackling, akin to a fall fire or carbon paper receipts being crumpled. Over crashing symbols, pop songs, and even cicadas in the summer, freshly baked bread is my preferred music.

Mangia!

Okay, I wanted to shout something Italian, and the first thing that came to mind was, “MANGIA!” which roughly translates to the English word EATS! It seemed appropriate enough. Eats, eats! To eat is what we wanted on Friday evening, as two skinny creatures who emerged from an Italian hibernation only to shout, “We wants to MANGIA!” And we wanted to "MANGIA" fast. Using lavish from our favorite Lebanese bakery and a few provisions I had in the fridge, I quickly assembled Friday night's fare. There was even enough time after supper for Shane and I to play Rummy, every game of which I graciously lost.

This time I did time how long it took me to prepare and serve our vittles :

5:45 p.m.: walk in door; greet Shane; change from work clothes into jeans and a sweater; take care of necessary “functions”; wash hands; preheat oven to 450-475 degrees.

6:00 p.m.: thaw lavish in microwave; wash, peel off skin, and thinly slice red onions; chop green olives; crumble feta cheese; wash and chop fresh thyme.

6:15: spread lavish onto cookie sheet; brush with olive oil; scatter feta cheese; scatter onions and olives; pop cookie sheet into oven.

6:16: sip some merlot.

6:20: chop pre-washed romaine lettuce and toss into bowl; throw in extra sliced onions; shred some Parmigianino over lettuce; slice one lemon in half; set lemon aside.

6:21: sip some merlot

6:25: check pizzas and notice they are browning along the edges and cheese is starting to brown and melt; turn off oven but keep pizzas in oven.

6:26: dress salad with juice from half the lemon, tablespoon olive oil, salt, and freshly ground pepper; toss salad.

6:30: remove pizza from oven and cut each piece in half.

6:32: toast dinner with Shane and tuck in.

Including preheating the oven, I had supper on the table in approximately 47 minutes. You too can enjoy a fast and tasty flat bread pizza! Additions such as roasted red peppers (patted dry if juicy), slices of cured beef or Prosciutto, and fresh basil (wait until the pizza comes from the oven to add fresh basil) would be wonderful variations.

Oh, oh, oh, I also think goat brie, sliced figs, and Serrano ham with fresh thyme would oh so divine…

Flat Bread Pizzas (serves 2 for a full meal, 4 to 6 for appetizers):

2 large pieces lavish bread (each almost 12 inches in length)
Olive oil
4 oz feta cheese, crumbled
¼ red onion, thinly sliced
5 or 6 Spanish or Greek green olives, chopped
Handful chopped fresh thyme

Preheat oven to 450-475 degrees (I hit my dial somewhere in the middle).

Arrange lavish breads on cookie sheet and fold each in half lengthwise and crosswise. Brush with olive oil. Scatter over top feta cheese, onions, and green olives. Pop cookie sheet in oven, and bake pizzas for 10-15 minutes, or until brown on the edges and cheese begins to melt. Watch closely and check after 10 minutes so flat bread doesn’t burn. Remove pizzas from the oven and scatter thyme over the top. Cut in piece in 2-4 pieces. Serve with a crisp romaine salad. Shane and I even took some of our crispy edges from the pizza and threw them into the salad. What convenience – pizzas with built in croutons. After a few sips of merlot, I feel like a genius!

Happy Easter!

Please do not think the only thing I did this Easter weekend was construct a bunny from 2 baguettes, a boule, and a couple of raisins. I also napped, watched several movies, and shared an entire bottle of champagne with Shane (over the course of a day, not in one sitting). It was a very productive, albeit cold weekend. In the course of my weekend, I saw more snowmen than bunnies.

Even as we wolfed our Easter evening quiche, I gazed at snow-glistened rooftops of the flats behind our kitchen window. How hard was it for little Easter boys and girls to find their neon green and magenta colored eggs in the half-melted snow?

To brighten up our not-quite-spring weather, I formulated and experimented with quiche. A light quiche, if possible, and there are tricks to lighten quiches. I’ve seen recipes for both going crust-less quiches and quiches that use a simple mashed potato crust. But hey, what’s a traditional holiday without a little butter and cream -- Just a bit of both? Okay, a bit of cream and a lot of butter. Balance – it’s all about balance.

Forget potatoes, forget a non-existent crust and give me flaky, buttery, browned goodness. Quiche crust, I’m not afraid to do 300 crunches the next morning. (There are no witnesses, but I did do 300 crunches the next morning.) I am an all butter pie crust gal. Crisco scares me, and I still cannot bring myself to use lard (although if I were put into a smoke-filled interrogation room with the blinds drawn and the ceiling fan whirling and causing a shadow upon the table, I would tearfully admit to preferring lard over Crisco before wiping my eyes with my blood red, 1-inch long fingernails).

For those who are intimidated by a pie crust more than being interrogated in a film noir, Gourmet’s all butter pastry dough is a no-brainer. As all good things, it only takes a bit of time to create something memorable (or at the very least, edible).

Shane and I agreed a quiche with asparagus and goat cheese sounded divine, reminiscent of an omelet we had at a nearby diner. However, after searching the internet for a simple goat cheese and asparagus quiche, nothing I found quite passed the Emilie standard. Most recipes called for both heavy cream and whole milk. I keep 1% milk in the fridge for me, and 2% milk for Shane. I don’t have room in either my fridge or my pants for either whole milk or cream. Forget bikini season, I’m just trying to make my skinny jeans go from eye popping to only slightly crushing my spleen. I do, however, keep a small container of fully fattening sour cream. Sour cream has saved me from cluttering my fridge with both buttermilk and heavy cream. From pancakes to potato soup to (now) quiche… oh forget it. I may as well be wearing a ruffled apron and an unnaturally white smile.

I have my crust, I have my main ingredients, and now I have a milk plan. For every 3 parts milk (using 2% milk), use 1 part sour cream, combine in a jar, and vigorously shake. Voila! The milk comes out thicker than whole milk, but not as rich or fattening as pure cream.

Eggs – how many eggs does it take to make a quiche? Two, but I wouldn’t ask them to check out my breaker box. From my quiche-search, the number of eggs to fill a 9 inch crust varied from 3 large to 6 large. What is a girl to do? With a willingness to completely screw up my recipe, I penciled a formula: for a 9-inch pie dish, use 2 whole eggs and 2 eggs yolks combined with 1 cup milk, or 1 cup of combined milk and sour cream. The rest of my quiche plan came together easily.

Here is the formula I concocted for a 9-inch pie plate:

1 9-inch pie crust

2 medium shallots, sliced
12 oz fresh asparagus, woody ends trimmed, and cut into 1-inch pieces on the diagonal
1 tablespoon butter

2 large eggs
2 egg yolks (from large eggs)
¼ cup sour cream
¾ cup 2% milk
3 scallions, white and some green, chopped
Salt and pepper

8 oz soft goat cheese, cut into 15 rounds
Fresh thyme


Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Roll out pie crust and fit into 9-inch pie plate. Set aside in refrigerator until ready to use.

In a large pan over medium heat, sauté shallots and asparagus in butter until asparagus are crisp tender, about 5-8 minutes. Do not overcook asparagus or they’ll become mushy in quiche.

While asparagus is sautéing, combine sour cream and milk in a jar, and shake vigorously until sour cream is incorporated into milk. Combine milk and sour cream mixture with whole eggs, egg yolks, and scallions and whisk until eggs are pale yellow and well incorporated. Season with salt and pepper.

Remove pie crust from refrigerator. Crumble and scatter half the goat cheese rounds on the bottom of the crust. Top goat cheese with asparagus and shallots, and pour egg mixture over asparagus. Dot the top of the mixture with remaining goat cheese rounds, distributing them evenly.

Bake on middle rack of the oven for 35 minutes. Quiche will not be completely set, and that’s okay; it’ll continue to cook after it’s removed from the oven. Let quiche cool for 10 minutes or up to several hours (I made mine 2 hours in advance). Serve at room temperature (of, if you must, “nuke” it Shane-style).

Conclusion: Creamy, smooth, and light, even for a dish wrapped in butter and flour. What would I do differently? For starters, I need to measure our pie plate. I have it ingrained in my brain that it’s a 9-inch pie plate, but my filling left a lot of exposed pie crust. For those who love crusts, this may not be an issue. Personally I desire more balance between filling and crust. For my next quiche, I plan on upping the egg quantity to 3 whole eggs and 3 yolks, while increasing the milk mixture to 1 ½ cups. Also, as a request from Shane, I will cut back the amount of goat cheese to about 7 ounces, crumbled and scattered more into the quiche rather than artfully arranged on the top layer. Cheese, butter, and sour cream may not help me fit into my skinny jeans, although I did compromise by forgoing a rich dessert. By eating my bread bunny’s raisin eyes, I compensated.

Beauty and the Baguette

Before I reveal my startlingly ugly baguette blunders, I want to prove that I can make pretty bread. This is my standard loaf of bread. I made a dough from 2 3/4 cups all purpose flour, 1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour, 2 tablespoons of my home grown sourdough starter, 1 teaspoon of salt, and enough water to make a shaggy to firm dough, roughly 1 1/3 cups. After a 25 minute hand knead and a 30 minute nap, the dough grew nicely in my well floured 9 inch brotform.

Twelve hours later a doughy, lightly sour-smelling butterfly emerged from it's wicker cocoon where I slashed it crosswise with a serrated knife. In a mega-hot, 450 plus degree oven, my beautiful butterfly let out a mighty RAWWRRR as it ripped its crust Ala the Incredible Hulk. Fortunately my bread is not as sour as Mr. Hulk, and it tastes much better with a variety of sweet and savory food things. My latest breakfast trend has been to slather toasted slices with almond butter and plum jam.

Oh but how my ego whimpers as I long to make a loaf that is somewhat passable as a baguette. This darling was one of three that rose horizontally instead of vertically even with my cushioning each baguette with an oil-slicked slice of cling wrap. The baguettes were conceived from the same formula as above. With a quickly sinking love for baking, I slashed each baguette, bummed my beauties couldn't even make it to the swim suit round. Even a blast of hot, gassy air wasn't enough to inflate the impossible. Not feeling worthy enough to display these loaves next to a hearty soup or with a hunk of cheese and olives, I devoured part of each (quite tasty) loaf for breakfast that week. A pop under the broiler and a smear of almond butter and plum jam was yet again a nice way to begin my day.

With a little help from a sheet of parchment paper crafted into a complicated couche, my next loaves did obey my command to sit and stay. The top loaf was another sourdough, victim to a drag and slash. And the bottom loaf is a faux baguette, meaning I used leftover egg and olive oil enriched dough to create a baguette shape in order to practice my slashing technique. Naturally, my mock baguette is the most attractive of the three, although the egg and olive oil gave the loaf a soft crust and mildly flavored crumb. Eating breakfast as if I were a king, or at least prime minister, I toasted slices of the bread, smearing each slice with (mmmm yes) almond butter and plum jam

But my heart beats to beautify my collection of baguettes. While the complicated couche did a stellar job cradling my baguette dough, I prefer the rise-and-dump method of a brotform. It's less fussy and I've never had luck with a real couche. Dough sticks to the cloth, I yell embarrassing words and glare at the oven for the half hour. Therefore, I have almost talked myself into purchasing a brotform especially for baguettes. Perhaps I can once again cheat my way to making more authentic looking baguettes with a promise I'll start pairing even the ugly ones with a gorgeous slice of Stilton to go with my plum jam.