Um, not just a legend, folks...
So, it was an unseasonably warm weekend. Temps were in the high 80's, almost 90 degrees F, I think and we were in an industrious mode. We made pickles, jarred pickles, tended the gardens, did greenhouse prep to ready for the crazy weather we are supposed to have this week and generally, felt pretty good about our accomplishments.
I love to make our bread, as you may have noticed. I don't just love it, I pride myself on it and after a trip to Austria to visit family, I fell in love again with what else: Bread. Brotchen. Kaiser. Sacher Torte... ok, the last one isn't bread, but still.
Good bread isn't just a staple in Austria, it's sustenance. It's heart warming. It's the epitome of comfort food. But they do it so well, like the French, that one could almost get a little complacent about it. Until you get back home to the States. My hubby, being German, is a stickler for the "right" bread. Of course he means the bread he grew up with. A classic PB&J, on soft American white bread, well, to him, that is more of a dessert. And scratch the PB and substitute it with Nutella and we're getting close to the right track. Substitute the Grape Jelly with Apricot marmalade and we're getting closer... Substitute the soft white bread, which he frankly, will not eat... and we are nearing the mark so close we may crash head long into his childhood memories... Needless to say, I have looked at "his" kind of bread as the holy grail of bread making.
I digress...
Anyway, back to the story. This time, after returning home and having the extreme pleasure of sifting through my cousin's "bread bible" or her study workbooks, I came across what I was looking for: Kaiser rolls. It was in German, but no better way to learn the language in my opinion than starting with food and recipes. I saw what I needed and thought I had enough new knowledge to succeed in my ongoing quest. My niece is an apprentice at a bakery and will one day be a full fledged baker someday in the near future and while she didn't understand my "wet" dough method of making bread and storing it in bulk, I just chuckled. There are tricks I have to teach HER yet... But, I had to get there first.
So, I proceed and make a dark black rye bread that I am nearly accomplished enough to pretend it is "close enough" to the real deal. The brotchen or kaiser dough, well, I needed help on the ingredients which surprised me a little. Not quite enough egg to call an egg bread, not nearly enough butter to call it a brioche but it was a happy medium between a 'boule', 'brioche' and 'challah'.
The black bread usually doesn't rise that much or that quickly but I was surprised when hubby called me back into the kitchen only a half hour after letting the blacky rise for it's initial rising. I little expected to see what I saw: My bread all over the kitchen counter and literally hanging on the cabinets, stretched all the way to the floor where it's 5 qt proofing container sat upright. The scene told the story... It exploded with such force out of the proofing container that it landed upright on the floor. Amazingly, none of the dough was anywhere that it couldn't be used again and it just needed to be put back to bed once again.
We put on a timer to keep a better eye on it. After a half hour, we punch it back down and after this second rise was done, I punched it down and put it in the fridge to slow it down a bit, as usual. I went on with my business and about a half hour later we heard a loud bang and went running to the kitchen only to find that the black dough had risen again and created such pressure in the rising container that it literally blew itself free and rocked the fridge door wide open! We were shocked. So, the majority of it stayed in the container and we rangled it back into it's container deciding that we needed to make some bread now. And quick.
Later that day, I made a batch of "brotchen" or white bread using my new knowledge and determined to get the flavor and consistency right after many years of trying. After mixing my new batch, I was full of hope and could just tell that the texture was beautiful and just what I had been missing all these years. I was thrilled! We let it rise, kept an eye and it really needed babysitting so we didn't repeat the black bread experience. So far so good. We make an initial batch of rolls and I was delighted with the results! Hubby said I nailed the flavor, just needed to work on the classic shape. HUGE accomplishment. We punch down the rest of the dough, put the remainder in the fridge and go about our business.
After about a half hour, we heard another loud explosion, this time a little more fierce... Glass shattering. OH NO, I thought... I didn't move. Hubby just pulled me along into the kitchen to see what I was really afraid to see: The Bread didn't just explode. IT BROKE MY FRIDGE. Ok, not the whole fridge but the force of the explosion put such force on the shelf it was on that the metal bracket broke and the glass shelf shattered into a million pieces, ruining not only the dough but everything else in my crispers which were now open to the world. I was so bummed. Hubby was a little ticked, I could tell, but he just quietly helped me clean it up.
And then, I went online to see about replacement parts for my fridge... Can't believe we didn't take a picture but I think I was too shocked and wanted to limit the damage as quickly as possible. Damage control for real! Needless to say, I found a new glass shelf but the rest of the parts for my fridge are no longer made. Even so, the fridge is still ok and we plan to get a new one next year anyway but this may have just escalated the need.