Baking Bread

Wife came back from a friend’s with this “super easy delicious bread recipe” that was from a Chinese blog. It was a fan blog for the book “Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day” It was a “no knead” recipe.

The day came that we had sufficient spontaneity to bake a bread. Flour, salt, yeast, water were all the recipe called for. (My contribution really did not justify the use of this plural pronoun, but I am the one who’s writing this.) We mixed ingredients together in a container, left it alone on the counter, and went for a long walk. We came back, baked it per instruction. And looked at each other approvingly. They were delicious! Crispy crust, nice and soft crumb, lots of aroma, and excellent bread flavors that we expect from quality bakeries. Success! Naturally, I got obsessed and checked out several books on the topic of bread making.

Bread making, an ancient art, is simple that anyone can do it well. Yet, it will take decades of practice and study to achieve excellence at commercial scale. Peter Reinhart‘s book — “Bread Baker’s Apprentice” — demystified this craft, revealed its science, and taught me how to appreciate a piece of good bread. He offered few gems of wisdom for home bakers.

  • Try to use weight, instead of volume, for ingredients, including water. You can scale the recipe up or down as long as you keep those ratios the same. To convert, use the table below as general guidelines.
    Ingredient Weight per volume
    Flour 4.5 oz Cup
    Water 8 oz Cup
    Table Salt .25 oz Teaspoon
    Sea Salt .167 oz Teaspoon
    Kosher Salt .143 oz Teaspoon
    Yeast .11 oz Teaspoon
  • Salt retards, or even kills, yeasts. Don’t put them in direct contact with each others. You may increase or reduce salt for taste, but also allow long/shorter time for fermentation.
  • Once risen, handle the dough very gently. Those air bubbles that were trapped inside the dough are good stuff. Disturb them minimally.
  • To form the bread, try to create some tension on the surface with some stretching. Leave the loaves alone for secondary fermentation for another 10% or so in volume.
  • Don’t forget to score the loaves. It enhances the look and also the taste.
  • Bake with a stone or cast iron to preserve the heat in the oven. Put loaves directly on it. Preheat oven 10 degrees higher, then reduce it down to normal once the dough has gone in and steam introduced, since both will reduce the oven temperature.
  • It is important to introduce steam during the first few minutes of baking. The easiest way is to preheat the oven with a baking pan and pour hot water into it when the loaves go into the oven. The initial steam relaxes the surface of the loaves to enhance “oven spring.” After the crust has formed, moisture serves no purposes anymore. Spraying water on top of the dough is a bad idea.

We are, somehow, attracted to the “rustic” category of the bread that has high hydration ratio.

The “formula” (bread people don’t say “recipe”) is a 80-4-2 one. This means, by weight, water is 80% of flour, salt 4%, and yeast 2%. It is extremely simple.

Time required: 5 hours. But “active” time is probably less than 30 minutes.
For 4 loaves:
Flour, all-purposes, unbleached preferred 15 oz 3.25 cups
Table Salt 0.56 oz (4%) 2.25 tsp
Yeast 0.25 oz (2%) 2.25 tsp
Water 12 oz (80%) 1.5 cups, warm to touch

When we made this bread, we use ⅔ of salt and mixed half of room temperature water with the other half boiling. The result was quite good.

Mix flour, yeast, salt in a bowl well. Add water and mix them all up. Leave it at room temperature, slightly covered, for 2 hours or when it double in size. Then put into the refrigerator for another 3. (That’s called retardation. Cooler temperature slows down the leavening.)

Flour the surface and hands. Take out the dough gently. Divide them into 4 with a knife (don’t pull them apart). Form each into roughly olive shape. If you wish, pull and tuck from all sides to create some tension on the surface. If desirable, lightly sprinkle the top with flour or rolled oats.

You can take out only as much dough as you need and leave the rest in the refrigerator as “seed” or “starter” for future uses. Put the unused portion in the refrigerator in an air-tight container and open it once a day to let out the air produced by the yeast. When you are using it, mix them with fresh ingredients (per proportion) and repeat the fermentation process as above.

Sprinkle cornmeal or flour on a piece of parchment paper and put them on. Preheat the oven to 450°F with the stone on middle rack and a baking pan underneath. Leave dough at room temperature for about an hour, or until the dough has risen up about 10% more in volume.

Score the dough. Slide them on top of the stone. Pour a cup of hot water onto the baking pan (protect your hands from the steam). Close the oven quickly to trap in the steam. Bake for 25 minutes or until golden brown. (Rotating the bread 180 degrees at about 10 minutes is generally a good idea.)

Take them out and wait for the bread to cool. The bread tastes less delicious before the center cool down to about 80F. That takes about half an hour.

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三國(8): 曹操

好不容易請來了神醫,曹操卻把華佗下獄至死. 自己也病亡.現在看來,是腦瘤吧.

三國中,論管理人才,孔明,孟德是頭兩名. 有趣的是他們都不是CEO. 曹操從未稱帝,死時是”魏王”,漢之宰相. 諸葛亮至死也是劉家的家臣,從無反意. 小時覺得曹操是奸臣,重讀三國,倒沒這感覺了. 他是跋扈了些,但始終沒反啊. 說來,他把”漢室江山”,管的不壞.南征北討, 給劉家立了不少功勞.

三國把赤壁寫的太美了. 諸葛神的,周瑜美的,曹操尿的.一戦而三分天下. 但以全局而論,他一直是三國中最強的一支. 蜀吳永遠在他的陰影下. 所以關羽華容道放他一馬,是真毀了劉備的”霸業”. 話說回來,也不是曹操先善待了關羽十幾年嗎?

再給曹操十年,他能一統天下嗎?

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Maiden Voyage

October 6th, 2012

“You looked at the lake like a puppy at the park,” Wife commented.

It was gorgeous day: bright, blue sky, 71°F. The flag on top of the courthouse building was flying, indicating good wind. I packed a bag and timed to catch the street car and got off at South Lake Union station at 12:12pm. Perfect!

It was really the beginning of a sailing day, boats were all sleeping with their sails nicely tucked. I asked for a Blanchard Jr. Knockabout. But the staff, Elena, convinced me to take the Mercury, a smaller (15 feet, keeled) boat. I manned up and planned to be that fool who tried to rig a boat based solely on books and observation. Elena was a confident young lady who mastered the skill of being in two places at the same time, but needed at three.

I found the jib (small sail in front) under deck, unfolded it, attached it to the forestay (a steel cable from bow to mast) with its zipper, learned the bowline knot, and hoisted it up (with the halyard). The mainsail needed to be unwrapped first. I hooked the head (top of the sail) to halyard, carefully slotted the luft (the forward edge of the sail) into the mast, and hoisted it up. The boat woke up with sails flapping in the wind. My spirit shot high and the heard the lake calling louder. Everything looked good, I untied the boat, pushed it out, walked on deck like a pro.

To get out of the waterway, I went straight out, turned around with a port-side tack (that means turning left), then was to do a starboard tack to get out clean. At my second turn, when I pushed the tiller, the boat did not respond! It was a narrow waterway; I was heading straight to the pier. I pushed the tiller all the way and the boat turned lazily and eventually rammed, gently, more like a tap, to the stern of another boat. I threw the stern line to someone on shore and deflated. (This scene has been replaying in my mind non-stop since.)

Elena yelled from the other side, “Hold that boat on dock!” I was equal part confused and embarrassed. She teleported from the other side of the waterway (how she does that!?) and machine-gunned instructions, “Lower your jib, Cullingham your mainsail (what’s Cullingham?), don’t touch that traveler (what?), ignore the Vang (sure…), route your jib sheet outside the shroud, …”

Two things were running through my mind: every instructions she gave involved a rope, the only things you can do to ropes are pulling and tying.

While I was pulling the tying various ropes, she had already circulated the boat three times. She stood still, got my attention, and gave me an encouraging smile, “OK, you are good to go. I am pushing you out now.” Suddenly, 15 feet of water appeared between my boat and the pier. She waved from so far away and I was, once again, all on my own.

The boat was obedient this time and we sailed out of the waterway like an arrow. I decided not to do the Tiger Woods air punch, but could not hold back the grin that connected both my ears.

Like a captain (ahem!), I had a plan: to the Gas Works Park and back. I would do close reach (going upwind), tacking back and forth, to reach the park. On my way back, I would do broad reach (downwind) and jibe back and forth. Simple plan.

Soon, the boat heeled and I felt this joy of riding the wind. Strange that I needed to steer constantly to keep the bearing. I crossed a big expanse of water before tacking. After a while, I discovered that I forgot to take my hat off. Oh well! Can’t take planning too serious while you are sailing.

About several hundred feet to the park, furthest north I had ever sailed, I turned around. Lake Union was busy. There were paddlers, motor boats, sail boats, and water airplanes taking off and landing. I found myself assessing the wind direction with everything I got: feeling on my skin, wave patterns, other boats, the flags, birds, etc. I needed clues and nothing tell me exactly what I need to know: how to trim the sheets. The sails kept on lufting and I was experimenting all the time. Man, this is tiring.

I had a docking plan too: head right in on broad reach, do a clock-wise U-turn, bring the boat parallel, and walk off with ropes in my hand. After the second turn, I quickly realized that the boat was not going to make parallel and there will be a light bump into the pier. Good thing someone was ready to grab the rope. I walked off the boat and exhaled. It was nearly two hours from the time I first hoisted up the jib.

Not bad for the first solo sail! This is what my 15-year-old daughter felt when she first drove around the parking lot. I needed more practices.

But first a cold beer.

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李鵠鳳梨酥

台灣的鳳梨酥,早就走火入魔了.每年比賽,又來什麼”伴手禮”. 台北的”佳德”,隊排到不行.每人限購,還可以排門外上百公尺.套句北京話,”有這麼至於嗎?”

從小,我家吃的是李鵠.只有基隆有賣,每個是紙包的.有人去基隆,一定託帶.一定買幾盒,大家分.孩子們聽到鳳梨酥就衝上來.乖透了.

來美國後,台灣發展了鳳梨酥文化,爭奇鬥艷,五花八門.越來越Fancy. 我們想的還是李鵠.但它只在基隆賣,舊友凋零,沒人可以託買了.每次朋友帶佳德來,都想起李鵠.念一聲.

這次回台,帶孩子去九份逛逛.心裏想的就是廟口的李鵠老店.這店可是清朝(1882年)就在了.真還在老地方(仁三路90號),什麼都沒變. 聽說早年分家,大房留在老店,獨佔基隆市場,不開分店.也保留李鵠這店名.

我們當然就大小包買足了一車. 是他好吃? 還是懷舊? 不重要啦. 吃唄.

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Simple Joy of Life

Seattle’s October came abruptly this year. It was pleasant 70°F and plummeted into mid 40s in one day. It even hailed in the city and snowed on the mountain. Satellites survive the winter with the faith that June will be lush and lovely and worth waiting for. Now one of them, I knew sun still come out, just less frequently as the old man winter approaches.

Sun did come that afternoon, right after a medium ferocity storm. I was on the phone while idly watching outside the window. Then it came.

A double rainbow so brilliant that I can touch it. The lower one was a full arc that reached from Capitol Hills, about a mile to the east where I live. The other end of the rainbow was at the foot of my building. I looked down from my balcony and can see the its landing. Pedestrians walked through it obliviously. They probably couldn’t see from where they stand.

Yes, I was standing at the end of the rainbow. I thought of the pot of gold and other legends, but mostly just let the happiness washing over me. It was so cool.

Soon, they moved. I have never seen rainbow moving in front of my eyes. The same arc presently swept north toward the lake, still brilliant and all the colors, but alive like a brush held by an invisible giant using the landscape for his canvas. Are gold coins spilling from the pot along the way? The end of the rainbow stopped right at the Center of Wooden Boats and held the position. A minute later, it faded away.

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Stuck at the 29th floor

October 27th, 2012

Saturday night, after a nice dinner (thanks to wonderful Wife), I was just lazily watching TV and someone scratched my window. Huh? This is the 29th floor! Was a bird hurt out there? I rose to investigate. We have the rolling curtains operated by metal chains that are just free hanging. They were rattling and making noises? They are really only two logical explanations: the wind was swaying the building or there was an earthquake. Some other hanging objects in the house were also swaying around, but TV and other free standing objects were stable. We felt nothing. So, shrug, Wife went back to computer and I TV.

An hour later, when the dinner was reasonably digested and wine almost dissipated, I changed into my workout gears and attempted downstairs. I summoned the elevator, but the button refused to obey. I stood in front of the stubbornly closed elevator doors and contemplated my options: skip work-out tonight, push the button harder (yes, it was irrational, but human), call for help, or use the stairs. The stair option also implied the possibility of getting stuck downstairs, since we cannot come in from the stair, only out.

I chose to wait for five minutes. The elevator button worked (so happy, yay!) and everything went well after.

Turned out there was an earthquake at Haida Gwaii, Canada, roughly 700 miles northeast of Seattle. A 7.7 one no less! That Loma Prieta, vividly remembered 13 years later, was only 6.9 and the Fukushima 7.1. Wow!

And the only thing I remembered was the elevator not working for 5 minutes.

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What’s the point?

Finally, the last of the presidential debates was over. The media industry kicked up another notch on political coverage, desperately seeking fresh angles. We all pretend that there are still undecided voters who are to choose the next president. We also pretend these debates mattered.

Voters. Who among you changed after watching the debates? Was your decision formed by them?

Thanks to the strange electoral college system, the race is already over for all but less than 10 “swing states.” None will settled by the debates. “Ground games,” that get people to cast their vote, will decide.

The debates are just entertainment.

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讀[昨日書]

大學那幾年,吃完晚飯,抓把吉他到屋頂,對著夕陽,大唱幾首,大夥一起合.天黑了下去打牌胡扯.不然就看心情,找個音樂迷,這邊聽搖滾,那邊古典,不然還有人專攻鄉村的.淡江的日子,”豐富”得很.

有幾個開始要唱自己做的歌,我們就一起聽.過了幾天,居然要開演唱會,我們當然要去共襄盛舉.吃完飯就散步去.哇!居然還有主持人!收音機裏的陶曉清!李雙澤來鬧了下,楊祖珺個子小但聲音好,都是淡江人.那年頭唱歌那可是每天路邊都是,有勁的人就開演唱會,校園每周都有,我們也沒太在意.後來還有人找了個陳達來唱”思想起”.哇.這是真的嗎?一個走唱的老頭子,嘰哩咕嚕了大半天,氣氛非常鄉土,但沒人聽得懂他在唱什麼.只知道他的詞是隨興編的.

那些居然成了校園民歌的大里程碑.馬世芳的書,寫的是我親身在場的耶.而那天聽完後,大夥散場,不知道某歷史事件剛發生過咧.

這就是當”路人甲”的感覺嗎?

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Certified to Sail

September 21, 2012

Liking needing a driver’s license to rent a car, I need to qualify for renting a sail boat. This means taking lessons until I can handle a boat reasonably. For Center for Wooden Boats, where I have been taking lessons, “check out” is the equivalent of driving test. I need to know how to tack, jibe, get out of the iron, and getting in and out of the dock — yes, lingua franca for the sailing universe.

For my boat, there are only three things to maneuver: ropes (called sheets) to control two sails (main and jib) and the tiller to controls the rudder. How hard can it be? All I have to learn is to read the wind.

And reading the wind is all sailors do. The whole lingua franca is about describing the wind, the boat, and the sails (or the sheets, the ropes that connect to the sail). My coaches are all very sensitive and aware of the wind. They describe the wind in very accurate terms, for both the direction and the strength. To “tack,” you began with a upwind position (wind blowing against the heading of the boat) and you steer the boat across the eye of the wind (meaning the wind is dead ahead, like a person staring at you). To “jibe,” the boat was going downwind, and you steer the stern of the boat across the eye. From the helmsman’s point of view, tacking means pushing the tiller “leeward” (downwind) and jibing “windward” or “to the weather.”

The “driving test” consists of getting the boat out of the dock, sail in a big circle (and therefore face the wind in all conditions) and getting back to the dock.

I am now officially a beginner sailor.

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Beef Noodles

“Food is the sky,” Chinese proclaimed. That, in terms of priority, food matters are always at the top. Citizens of Taipei took this to heart. This city is teemed with restaurants. Beef noodles, somehow, has ascended to obsessivity. Every year, there will be a festival where all noodle houses compete for the top prize.

YongKang Beef Noodle (永康牛肉麵), to me, is the king of the SiChuan style beef noodle (川味牛肉麵). This little shop is near my home and was an extension to our kitchen. The noodles come in two styles: clear or sauced. Noodles are cooked to the right texture: soft, slippery, and just a bit chew. The choiced broth is ladled onto them into the bowl, thickly sliced beef put on top, lastly garnish. Each table sports a big bowl of pickled cabbage and I would pile them into the bowl (think pastrami and sauerkraut). The meal usually ends with very satisfying expression on the faces sparkling with beads of sweat. The cost of this heavenly experience? Less than NTD300, or about $10.

On a summer night after the noodle, stroll to the nearby YongKang Street (永康街) and have a bowl of shaved ice, topped with whatever look appealing at the moment. Fruit lovers will have a blast on the selection. And there are plethora of colorful and tasty other choices. You will hear the “ah….” satisfying sigh coming from everyone.

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