Focaccia: Flying Solo

Baking bread in the kitchens of the Culinary Institute in New York was exhilarating. Under the guidance of a professional chef to help me overcome my fear of making yeast breads and to answer my seemingly constant stream of questions (Has it proofed long enough? Is this right?) my partner and I made beautiful, wonderful-tasting bread. My past experience, however, was lackluster at best. So when I decided to make my first solo attempt at recreating the experience from class, it wasn’t without anxiety.

I decided to bake focaccia because it had tasted delicious, I knew my family would enjoy it, and since I had already invested in six new cake pans specifically for it, it seemed like the prudent choice. My oregano and chives were also taking over my backyard, giving me a ready source for fresh herbs.

I took a good half hour to get all of the ingredients measured and ready for assembly. At the CIA and in many professional kitchens, the ingredients are measured by weight, not volume, for the greatest level of accuracy. That meant dirtying several bowls, but the care taken at the beginning of the process would produce a bread worthy of the additional dishwashing at the end.

Ingredients:
0.5 oz active dry yeast
8 oz. water
4 oz. milk
2 oz. eggs (equated to 1 large egg when I weighed mine)
1 oz. olive oil
29 oz. high gluten flour or bread flour
0.75 oz. honey
2 oz. herbs (finely diced rosemary, thyme, basil, oregano, chives—whatever you like—and garlic, plus freshly ground black pepper)
0.4 oz. salt

Whisk the yeast and water together in a bowl until it looks like cloudy water, then pour it into the bowl of your standing mixer and add the other wet ingredients. Follow with the flour, honey, and herbs, with the salt on top so it doesn’t come into direct contact with the yeast until it is diluted by the entire mixture. If the salt comes into direct contact with the yeast/water mixture it can kill the yeast and then, ultimately, kill your bread.

Using the bread hook attachment on your mixer, start mixing the ingredients on low speed. After about two minutes, stop the mixer and feel the dough. Mine felt very tight and dry, like a rubber band stretched to its limit. This had also happened to me at the CIA kitchens. I added about ¼ cup of water and started the mixer again. It’s important to do this early in the process because the water will become harder to incorporate as the mixture develops further.

Begin mixing again, one notch higher on the mixer. Keep going for several minutes until the dough passes the “membrane test”: Take a small hunk of the dough—no more than 1” in diameter---and gently work it with your fingers into a disc. Gently stretch the center as you knead. The dough should be able to stretch to the point where it is thin enough that you can see light through it and, ideally, even read your recipe through it. When it reaches this point, stop the mixer.

Chef had forewarned us to use a powerful mixer when making bread, especially when making large quantities. The smaller CIA mixers, which were 5-qt. KitchenAid Professional mixers with 350 watts of power, regularly broke down due to the stress of working the dough. Whenever possible, Chef would use the 20-qt. Hobart mixer, an ancient brute of a machine that Chef said would easily break your wrist if you were inattentive enough to put your hand into the bowl before turning it off.

My KitchenAid standing mixer has been with me for about 20 years. It’s the basic model, with a 4-qt. bowl and a top that tips back. I love my mixer and was a little concerned about what the bread would do to it. It chugged away, clunking and groaning, until it produced a dough that successfully passed the membrane test. I was giddy. My mixer survived, but quickly showed its displeasure at having been put through the ordeal. The bowl, which twists into its base, had been so tightly screwed into position by the churning motion of the dough that I had to beat the handle of the bowl with my hand several times in order to remove it. Several minutes later when I started wiping it down, it was still quite warm to the touch from the exertion of manipulating the dough. Hopefully it will continue to perform for the occasional breadmaking effort, but if I begin doing this regularly, I may need to invest in a more substantial piece of equipment.

Put some olive oil into a large bowl—about a tablespoon should do—and roll your dough into a ball with your hands. Stretch the top of the ball into a smooth surface by turning the ball in onto itself on the bottom, much like rolling a pair of socks into a ball or turning a hat inside-out. Then place the ball into the bowl, smooth side up, and cover the top with plastic wrap. The bowl should be large enough to allow the dough to double in size without touching the plastic wrap.

Now the dough needs to proof or rise for 30-45 minutes. The CIA kitchen had impressive proofing ovens which kept the bread at about 100 degrees Fahrenheit and provided steam for a humid environment that the yeast just loves. I have no such ovens, so instead I used a trick that Chef suggested: heat a mug of water it in the microwave until it boils. Open the door, quickly place the bowl of dough inside, and close it to retain the moisture from the water. Voila—a nice, warm, humid place for the bread to proof.

Check the bread after about 30 minutes by poking it gently with a knuckle. If it bounces back, give it more time. If the indentation stays, it is done proofing, as the gluten has been stretched to its limits. Dump the dough onto a lightly floured surface (use bread dough for the surface---it won’t clump) and press the dough down with your hands to expel most of the air. Fold it over once and manipulate it into a fat log. Weigh the log, then cut it into six equal pieces by weight. Take each piece and roll it into a ball just as you did with the full ball of dough before the first proofing—roll it onto itself for a nice, smooth skin on the top. Set all six balls on the counter and drape with plastic wrap (or, if your kitchen is cold, place them onto parchment-lined sheet pans, drape with plastic and place them in a warm place) to proof for another 30 minutes or so until they pass the knuckle test again.

Pour 1-2 teaspoons of olive oil into the bottoms of six round cake pans. We used 8” at school, but I used 9” for this effort. When the dough is done proofing, place a ball top-side down into a pan, spin it to coat, then start poking with your fingertips to begin to flatten it. Flip it so the “pretty” side is up. Use your fingers to poke and spread the dough to fill the pan, leaving a dimpled surface. Allow the dough to rise one last time for about 15 minutes.

Place the pans in a 400 degree Fahrenheit oven and bake until browned. Brush olive oil on top & sprinkle with Kosher salt. Cool for a few minutes, then turn out while still warm and allow to finish cooling on a rack. Slice into wedges and serve, or slice the entire loaf horizontally and use as a pizza crust.

Success! The scent of yeast, fresh herbs and garlic (these are a few of my favorite things) filled the kitchen. The focaccia had a slightly crispy crust surrounded a nicely chewy center. I am now emboldened to try another yeast bread. Stay tuned.