BBA Challenge – Ciabatta Bread

Since it started, I’ve been wanting to spin off my participation in Nicole’s Bread Baker’s Apprentice Challenge – an ambitious project to bake myself through Peter Reinhart’s book with the same name. Finally, I have my hands full of sticky dough up to my elbows. This week’s challenge is Ciabatta Bread, a North-Western (Liguria) Italian invention that literally means carpet slipper because of its typical shape that resembles it.

The Crumb

It seems like I have to join the “Not Enough Holes” chorus of the BBA participants mentioned in Nicole’s post about Ciabatta. The flavor, crust, etc., indeed, was all there and made excellent sandwiches, but the crumb  (read; holes) was very shy of what the Ciabatta slice should look like in Peter Reinhart’s book. I’ve baked quite a bit of Sourdough bread in this past year, and as Nicole, I arrived to the same conclusion: “Great flavor, small crumb”. So, I found myself on a quest for the prized, big and shiny crumb. Up to now I am suspecting flour type (I’ll try a higher gluten content next time). There are also a lot of other factors that contribute to the big crumb like dough stiffness, oven temperature.

Poolish?

What? Relax. Poolish is nothing else but a ‘pre-ferment‘ and its main function is to add flavor to the bread, as well as contributes somewhat to the rise, but not much since we will use dry yeast in the bread mix. It needs to be started one day ahead and kept in the fridge overnight. This way the flavor will have the time to develop in a slow-rise. It appears that there are two kind of pre-ferments – at least in the book: Poolish and Biga (the Italian version of  pre-ferment). The difference between the two is only the dough consistency –  Poolish is more runny compared to biga that is stiffer and almost like a kneadable dough. Everything else is the same. They are interchangeable, but you will need to adjust the water content depending on which one you choose. Reinhart found little difference using poolish or biga for this Ciabatta bread formula.

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The Poolish recipe is simple (makes 3¼ cups, enough for our Ciabatta recipe below):

2½ cups (11.25 oz) unbleached flour
1½ cups (12 oz) water at room temperature
¼ Tsp (.03 oz) instant yeast

Add all the ingredients in a mixing bowl and stir until you get the consistency of a thick pancake batter. Cover with plastic wrap and ferment at room temperature for 3-4 hours.

You will notice (after 3-4 hours) that the poolish will start to bubble and foam. Time to place it now in the fridge (will keep for 3 days in there):

Ciabatta Bread

Make sure you bring the poolish to room temperature (1 hour) before mixing it with the bread ingredients.

Reinhart has some side notes on enriching the dough by substituting  the 6 Tb water with milk or buttermilk and adding olive oil to the mix for a more tender, chewy loaf. Take your pick – I replaced the water for milk and added the 2 Tb of olive oil he mentioned. Mix the above ingredients in the mixing bowl until hydrated. As Nicole and other BBA participants discovered, you will probably end up using more water – up to ¾ cup. Play it by ear here and add the extra water bit by bit until you get the consistency of a somewhat kneadable dough – like in the image below. Remember the more wetter the dough, the more chances that your bred will have big holes.

Kneading!

I know the bread purists will come after me, but I opted to knead the ciabatta dough in my bread machine simply because it was too sticky to start with. Hey, if Lionel Poilâne used dough mixing machines in his  world-renown sourdough bread manufacture (don’t EVER call his venture a ‘bread factory’!), why can’t we, the little people? The kneading went on for about 7 minutes until the dough started to clear the bowl sides but stuck to the bottom – just like in the book:

Now, dump your dough onto a ‘bed of flour’ meaning a well flowered board. Remember, the dough is still sticky and will get stuck to the board if your board is not flowered enough. Here’s an idea of a ‘bed of flour’:

Stretch ‘n’ Fold

Ok, this is not your Momma’s way of gluten development. Not sure where was originated – didn’t look for it in the book either, but I suspect this is how the Ligurian Mammas did it, so here it is. First, place your kneaded dough on the bed of flour, and sprinkle some on the top:

Now, stretch the dough out about 2 -3 times its size:

Now fold it over itself twice like a business letter style:

Now, spray with oil, sprinkle some flour on top, cover in plastic, and let it rest for 30 min. The dough will rise surprisingly quite a bit. I mean a lot for me – bursting at the seems! I can probably attribute that to the 80 degree summer day:

Now, repeat the previously explained Stretch ‘n’ Fold once again and let it rise (ferment) on your board for 1-½ hours. Next, I took my faithful pastry scraper and gently divided the dough in thirds trying to minimize the gas escape (de-gass) by slowly cutting in thirds. The cut itself will seal the loaves margins.

Le Couche (Le what?!?)

Literally translated (I think, according to the French I am still left with after 10 years of studying that I remember none) into ‘cozy bed’, a couche is nothing else but a piece of linen (white tablecloth for instance or canvas) that’s setup to be a cozy ‘nest’ for final bread proofing, and to give some sort of support and structure to soft doughs like this ciabatta bread. It needs to be lightly oil-sprayed and floured so the dough will not stick to it. I am using a white rough piece of linen I found at Joann Fabrics for one buck! You can go insane with spending a fortune on a Baker’s Artisan Couche like the one from King Arthur, but honestly (and again, the bread purists will hunt me down for this), to me that’s just a piece of glorified burlap. It’s all about the name, my friends. There’s no need to wash the cloth . After use, I just shake off the excess flour and store it in a dry place.

Sprinkle your divided loaves with more flour (roll each one of them in the flour to coat), then gently lift them one by one using your pastry scraper, kiss them good night, and lay them one by one on the prepared couche:

Next, gently fold each loaf business style and shape it into a 6 inch long oblong (or close):

As you shape the loaves, bunch the cloth between them to form separating walls.

Mist the loaves with more spray oil, dust them with flour and cover with a plastic wrap. Leave them to proof from 45 to 1 hour at room temperature while you prep your oven.

Oven Prep

It is similar to what I did while baking my Sourdough bread (see the Steaming paragraph). Have your weapons loaded: water mister, long oven mittens. I have a baking stone in my middle rack (that I always keep there) and a steaming pan on the bottom. I pre-heat the oven to 500 degrees, and get some water to boil in the mean time. The idea is to keep the bread surface flexible enough in the initial boost of high temperature baking stage, so that the loaf will rise freely. If the first stage is baked at a low temperature without surface misting, the surface will crust over, impeding the bread to rise.

The Baking

Have a pizza peel or the back of a sheet pan generously dusted with semolina flour or cornmeal, and gently place one loaf at a time on it, stretching it out to approximately 12 inches:

Then, slide it onto the baking stone (or bake them all  directly on the sheet pan). Immediately pour one cup of boiling water in the steaming pan on the bottom, and shut the oven door close. After 30 seconds, open the door and spray the oven walls then quickly close the door to trap the steam inside. Repeat this technique twice at 30 second intervals. After the last misting, turn your oven temperature down to 450 degrees and rotate the loaves horizontally 180 degrees for even baking. Depending on your oven, you will need to bake your loaves until you (the bread surface) gets a nice golden brown crust. I baked my loaves about 15 more minutes.

Patience, My Lad!

Reinhart states that the loaves need to cool on the rack for about 45 minutes before slicing. I didn’t have that patience so I went on and sliced them open after 10 minutes. I am not sure who can wait at such an enticing aroma and crust! The result?

My Bread Baker’s Apprentice Challenge Ciabatta bread had an absolutely wicked taste, and crust. It is calling for an encore by all means and it makes lovely sandwiches. The only disappointing thing was the size of the crumb – very shy, small, and even, compared to the one in the book picture. Looks like many of the participants had the same issue, so it is good to know that I am not alone in my quest.

If you have any words of (crumb) wisdom – I’d be very glad if you could share them with me.

Happy baking!