Kneading Authenticity

Those who know me well know of my love for The Great British Baking Show. Unlike every American baking or cooking show, this is a kinder and gentler approach to competition where the contestants, vying for a lovely glass plate in lieu of a million dollars, actually help one another and are genuinely empathetic about fellow bakers' mishaps. The show's hosts don't cream puff their comments, but they're never mean or condescending. When octogenarian Mary Berry gives them advice, they listen wholeheartedly. And each season's group of bakers always has a refreshing diversity of ages. These are real people who spend several long and exhausting weekends under a white tent on the grounds of a beautiful English estate. Not because they seek fame and fortune, but because they simply love to bake in their own modest home kitchens. Period.

I thought about The Great British Baking Show this morning as I read the Sunday edition of The New York Times. Bear with me; there is a connection. If truth be told, one of my favorite sections is the Styles section, particularly the Modern Love column and the Vows section. I typically save this section for last, after I make my way through the more "serious" parts of the paper. Then I pour another cup of coffee and delve into other people's love lives. The first time I read Modern Love and pondered the stick figure drawing that accompanied someone's tale of relationship woes, I was struck by how honest the writer was about her struggles. She was laying it all out for the world to read, share, and learn. There wasn't an ounce of sugar coating. From Modern Love I jump to all the marriage announcements. Now, not just anyone is going to get their announcement placed in The New York Times. These folks are well-educated, highly employed, and come from impressive lineages. By all appearances they are setting out on wedded bliss. The game for me is wondering how many of them will eventually be penning a column of Modern Love and sharing a tale of woe somewhere down the road. I don't mean to be Debbie Downer, but marriage IS hard. Relationships are real, and partners don't always smile at one another.

Today after deciding which couples would have a long, happy marriage together, I turned the page to find a new column: It's No Secret. This column seeks to interview couples who have somehow managed longevity and happiness together, and the inaugural column was about a couple celebrating their 40th anniversary. Having both graduated from The Wharton School of Business, they may very easily have been in The Vows section forty years ago, and who knows if their picture and write-up would have suggested a long, happy marriage. But after reading their thoughts on relationships, I realized that these folks seemed like pretty ordinary people. The husband talked about coming home from work one night early in their marriage and, looking into the kitchen window, he saw his wife cooking and their daughter banging on a pot on the floor. He loved this picture of home and all its ordinary-ness. Even the picture that went with the column depicted an understated contentedness on the part of both husband and wife. The picture was not of a love-struck pair but of a couple who have come to realize over the years that they just really enjoy one another.

Life is made up of a lot of little ordinary events, which (thank you for waiting for me to come back 'round) is why I love The Great British Baking Show. These are regular people who look like you and me, and they just happen to be really talented bakers. They appreciate the little things, and I imagine they would be really lovely people to have a cup of tea with. I wish we highlighted folks like this more often. It's hard to come by in American media, especially in the Land of Social Media where we feel compelled to present a perfect world instead of a real world. I honestly worry about this phenomenon, which is probably why I let out a little sigh of relief each time I watch The Great British Baking Show or open up the Styles section. I guess authentic voices just do that to me.

Given that I'm talking about engagements and long lasting love, you might expect a celebratory drink to match this post's theme. Instead, I share with you a baking triumph I recently had that was entirely inspired by my televised baking friends across the pond. I'm always impressed by their bread baking powers, especially when it comes to intricately weaving and braiding strands of dough, so I decided to attempt my own bit of baking glory. Much to my surprise and astonishment, it worked! The recipe comes from King Arthur Flour, and even if you are new to the mysteries of yeast and proofing, give this recipe a try. It's really very doable, and your friends and family will be ready to sign you up for a baking competition.

Pane Bianco
(from King Arthur Flour)
Dough:
3 cups King Arthur Bread Flour
2 teaspoons instant yeast
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1 large egg
1/2 cup lukewarm milk
1/3 cup lukewarm water
2 T olive oil
Filling:
3/4 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes
4 large cloves garlic, minced
1/3 cup fresh basil

1.To make the dough, start by combining all the dough ingredients in a bowl. You can do the kneading by hand, but if you have a mixer with a dough handle, this is the way to go. Mix the ingredients until you have a very soft dough, and if you're using a mixer, it should stick a bit to the bottom of the bowl. Keep the mixer on low while it is doing the kneading for you.
2. Place the dough in a lightly greased bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Let it rise for about 45 to 60 minutes, or until it's doubled in size (that's important). In the winter, I usually turn my oven to warm for a few minutes, then turn it off and add a bowl of boiling water before adding my dough. This helps create a warm, humid atmosphere that makes the yeast very happy.
3. While the dough rises, drain the tomatoes and pat them dry. Cut them into small pieces.
4. Once the dough has doubled in size, gently punch it down, flatten it and coerce it into becoming a 22" by 81/2" rectangle. Spread the tomatoes, cheese, garlic, and basil over the dough.
5. Starting with one of the long edges, roll the dough up into a log. Pinch the edges to seal and place the dough seam side down on a lightly-greased or parchment-lined baking sheet.
6. Using kitchen shears or a sharp knife, start 1/2" from one end of the roll and cut the log lengthwise down the center about 1" deep. Cut to within 1/2" from the other end.
7. Keeping this cut side up, form an "S" shape, tucking the ends under the center of the figure 8 you've just created. Pinch those two ends together.
8. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise until it doubles again in size, 45 to 60 minutes.
9. If you are letting the dough rise again in the oven, take it out and then preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Uncover the bread and bake for 35 to 40 minutes. Tent it with foil midway through to prevent the top from browning too much.
10. Once cooked, let it cool on a rack and resist the temptation to immediately cut into it. The wait will be worth it!