March 01, 2008

Remembrance of Breads Past

by Paul E. Richardson

Scents and flavors are integral to memory. Apparently, scientists tell us, this is because our olfactory pathways have a more direct link to the hippocampus than do sensory pathways linked to sight or touch. Since food is all about smell and taste, it offers a bullet train ride to distant memories.

I can attest to this. A whiff of marinated garlic or the taste of a salted pickle sends me reeling back 20 years to the echoing indoor market on Moscow’s Tsvetnoy Bulvar. The taste – or even the thought of the taste – of borshch sends me off to the provincial town of Kotlas, where many years ago I had an incomparable bowl of the soup (undoubtedly made more flavorable by an interminably long train ride). And thick Turkish-style coffee always takes me back to prewar Tbilisi.

But my strongest food-memory link stems from Borodinsky bread. My wife and I lived in Moscow on the eve of the Soviet collapse. Basic goods were rationed or unavailable and there was little variety in foodstuffs, particularly to less-savvy foreigners like us. In the fall of 1989, our pasta-heavy diet was punctuated with (or so I remember it now) but two gastronomical highlights: Cuban orange juice and Borodinsky bread. To this day, the smell of cracked coriander seeds - the bread’s olfactory highlight - brings back memories of that exciting and unpredictable time. Proust had his madeleines. I have my Borodinsky.

Considered by many to be the pinnacle of Russian breads, Borodinsky is named for the village just outside Moscow where Russia turned the tide against Napoleon. One apochryphal tale has it that the bread was first baked by the wife of a general on the eve of that battle, to somehow inspire the troops. But the more likely history is that the bread was invented a few decades later, by nuns at the Spaso-Borodinsky monastery - some of whom were certainly the widows of Borodino soldiers.

No matter the provenance, Borodinsky today is the quintessential Russian dark bread, the perfect accompaniment to a bowl of borshch, a shot of ice cold vodka, or a slather of creamy butter.

This is all prelude to mentioning that, in recent winters, I have been teaching myself to bake bread (I heartily recommend Rose Levy Berenbaum’s The Bread Bible, whose techniques inform this recipe). It is a humbling yet fulfilling art which has the pleasing side effect of warming up a cold kitchen and filling the house with wondrous odors.

This winter I set myself the particular challenge of crafting an approximation of Borodinsky bread. Of course, I could follow one of the many recipes available in books or online. But most Borodinsky recipes (including that in Taste of Russia) rely on a rye sourdough. That is great for flavor, but it can take up to a week to ferment. I wanted to create a recipe that offered more immediate gratification, with a few personal touches.

While this recipe may not satisfy Borodinsky purists, it can be enjoyed just one day after the urge strikes you. Start it on Friday or Saturday after dinner and it will be ready for the next evening’s meal.

Simple Borodinsky

Sponge

¾ cup organic rye flour, coarsely milled

¾ cup bread flour or organic, unbleached all-purpose flour

3 tbsp wheat germ (fresh, not toasted)

½ tsp yeast

1½ cup dark coffee (e.g. French Roast), fresh brewed

1 square semisweet baking chocolate

1 tbsp molasses

Flour mixture

1 cup rye flour

1 cup bread flour or unbleached all-purpose flour

¾ tsp yeast

1 tbsp wheat gluten

2 tbsp ground flax seeds

2 tbsp coriander seeds, coarsely crushed

½ tbsp kosher or sea salt (non-iodized)

Evening before: Combine the dry ingredients for the sponge in a 2-quart glass bowl. Stir the chocolate and molasses into the hot coffee until fully dissolved. Let cool to just above room temperature (70-90 F), then mix the wet sponge ingredients into the dry. It will be the consistency of pancake batter. Whisk for two minutes to incorporate air. Set the bowl aside.

Now mix all the ingredients for the flour mixture, except the salt, together in another bowl. Then mix in the salt. Spread this flour on top of the sponge mixture. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let sit out at room temperature for 2 hours. The growing sponge will break through the flour mixture in places. That is as it should be.

Before going to bed, put the bowl in the refrigerator.

The next morning: Mix together the contents of the bowl with a wooden spoon until incorporated as a rough dough. You may now either hand-knead the dough or use a KitchenAid mixer. If the former, knead on a flour-dusted surface for five minutes. If in a mixer, then at low speed for about a minute. In either case, next cover the dough and let it rest for 20 minutes.

Knead by hand for another 5-10 minutes, or at medium speed (3-4) on your KitchenAid for 5-7 minutes. The dough should be sticky, yet rough textured. If the dough is dry, add up to 3 tablespoons of room temperature water.

Place the dough in an oiled glass bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise until doubled, about 1½-2 hours.

Remove the dough from the bowl (you may need to use an oiled, rubber spatula) to a floured counter. Do not work the dough too much, but press it down and pull all the sides into the middle to make the dough into a 4x8 inch rectangle. Turn the rectangle over (pinched side down) and place in the bottom of an oiled 9½ by 4½ loaf pan.

Cover the loaf pan with oiled plastic wrap or a large bowl and allow to rise another 1½-2 hours, or until it is peeking above the side of the pan.

Preheat oven to 450 F a half hour before baking, making sure that the oven rack is at its lowest level. If you have a baking stone, place that on the rack and preheat along with the oven. Otherwise, do the same with a baking sheet.

Place the bread pan on top of the stone or baking sheet and bake for 10 minutes. Then reduce the oven temperature to 400 F and bake for another 30-40 minutes. A toothpick or skewer inserted in the center of the bread should come out clean.

Resist the urge to devour the bread right out of the oven. For the best results, let the loaf cool completely before cutting.

Makes one loaf.