The culinary interests of my mom’s family to some extent dictated that I would become a serious home brewer, vintner and baker as an adult. My mom made the best pizza crust imaginable, and used to feed the entire neighborhood at times. When I was a little kid, my grandfather made 25 gallons of red wine every September. I would peer over the lip of the barrel and listen to the cake of skins and stems hiss and fizzle with the working of the yeast, then close my eyes and inhale deeply the giddy perfume that overwhelmed the entire house. Fermentation still seems miraculous to me, a continuous wonder.
As a college kid I brought a loaf of home-made bread to my dear Aunt Nicky’s for a holiday dinner. I was bashful about placing it on the table in front of the whole family. She broke off a piece of crust and tasted it. She said “This is good! Slice it and put it on the table.” I remained reticent, and she finally put her hand on her hip as she did when she was a little put out and said “Honeybunch! You know what good food is! Cook to your own taste! For God’s sake don’t worry about THEM!” Here she pointedly indicated most of my male relative ensconced in front of a football game in the living room and pretty well down in their cups. “THEY’LL eat nails!”
What follows is a recipe and some general observations on making bread. It is also a response to a highly automated, frenetic, and demanding pace of life that, I think, kills people and robs them of some pleasures they don’t even know they’re missing.
Making bread at home takes some time. The most common excuse people give for buying their bread is how long it takes and how complicated it is. But think about it: isn’t most of the time required to make even the most complicated artisan breads simply spent waiting for something to happen? Your active participation is not required for yeast to proof, for dough to rise or for loaves to bake. You can be doing something else, and keeping half an eye on the clock, can’t you? In other words, any self-respecting 21st century multi-tasker ought to be able to juggle the elements of even a busy modern life around making real, honest bread.
Baking also requires some simple tools. None are more important than those protruding from your shirt sleeves. No machine has ever been invented that can adequately substitute for the grace, sensitivity, warmth and precise strength of human hands. Wheat breads have to be kneaded to break down the gluten and provide durability and strength to the rising dough. How long does this kneading take? Until you can feel the building resistance in the dough. This can be 3 minutes or 30; it all depends. Your hands can be taught to distinguish among very fine increments of resistance, the difference between a very light, crusty baguette and a dense and chewy rye. My point is; your hands and only your hands will tell you when you are done. Throw the damned bread machine away.There are other benefits to hand kneading. There is an old Italian folk tale that involves the strong warm hands of the village baker and the wives of some frequently absent and inattentive merchants. I think the title was Un Pane Francese…
But I digress…
A solid ceramic bowl, a heavy wooden spoon, a bread board and pin, and some measuring cups and spoons make up the rudiments of your tool kit. I would also lobby for a few other items.
A baker’s peel is essential for Pizze and Foccacie, and damned handy as a place for loaves to rise. They come in wood and metal. I like wood.
A baking stone is one of the real secrets to great crusty bread. The best stones are large 5/8 thick rectangles of fire brick that cover most of a rack in a standard oven. They run about 50 bucks. The only thing better is a real brick lined oven. They start at 3 grand, last time I checked, so I’d stick with the stone. Some metal racks to cool loaves on are a good investment, as is a small spritzer bottle to help generate some steam in the oven, and a metal scraper to clean your bread board.
I’m sure there’s lots of other stuff out there that’s fun to use and helpful, but I don’t own any of it.
Flour, water and leavening with a few minor ingredients make bread.
Only wheat flour possesses sufficient gluten to rise to double its volume. These days they sell high gluten flour just for making bread, but I find it unnecessary. I’ll use any decent unbleached white flour and/or whole grain flour for my baking. I have my favorite brands, but there are many good ones. Watch that it’s not too old. Whole grain flour can go rancid after awhile, and all flour will eventually get weevils if it’s not stored in the fridge. In general, white flour responds to kneading more quickly and rises more quickly than whole grain.
Water is water, but watch out for too much chlorine; it’s hard on yeast!
While active dry yeast works well and is best for sweet breads, sourdough is certainly the best and the oldest leavening. Sourdough is a living colony of yeasts and bacteria that form a symbiotic relationship with each other. Certain sourdoughs are endemic to certain parts of the world and have highly distinctive characteristics. It is unruly, not terribly predictable, and not terribly fast. It also produces bread with indescribably good flavor and character. King Arthur flour has a great procedure for making your own starter!
There’s much more to say, but this dissertation is close to a thousand words already. Here’s the recipe. Mangiare bene!
Pane della Campagna (Country Bread)
Note: This is my basic pizza and bread recipe. A great many friends and family seem to enjoy it! I will give the dry yeast version here with some end notes on the sourdough version.
For two loaves or two pizze
2 cups warm (about 105 degrees Fahrenheit) water
1 cup whole wheat flour
Approximately five cups of unbleached white flour
Two tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Two teaspoons of seasalt
One tablespoon of raw unfiltered honey
Coarse cornmeal
Two tablespoons of dry yeast or
¼ cup of sourdough starter
Proof the yeast for about ten minutes by blending it with the warm water, honey, and a couple tablespoons of the whole wheat flour and setting it aside in a warm place. It is ready when it is foamy. 
Add the oil and salt, and the rest of the whole wheat flour, to the proofed liquid and blend with a heavy spoon. Start adding white flour and continue blending. At some point, maybe around four or five cups, the dough will get too stiff to stir with the spoon. At that point turn it on to a heavily floured breadboard, and start kneading. Push your hands into the dough, fold it over on itself, and push in again with the heels of your palms. Add flour whenever it seems sticky, and keep kneading. Eventually (five to 10 minutes max) you will feel the
dough becoming more and more resistant yet still elastic (a chef friend describes it as the feeling of the dough “fighting back”). At this point the dough should be very smooth and springy. Roll it in a ball and place it in a bowl well greased with good olive oil. Use your fingertips to make the sign of a cross on the fresh dough. Whether you are religious or not, it’s a great little trick my mom used: when the indentation is invisible (about an hour), the dough has doubled! 
Punch the dough down and knead again for about a minute. If you are making bread, divide it in half, and roll each half into a smooth ball. Place them on a wooden peel liberally dusted with cornmeal. After they double (about 40 minutes) score the top with a razor blade, and transfer them to a preheated 375 oven on top of a well preheated baking stone. The oven should preheat for at least a half hour. Just before you close the oven door, spritz the loaves, oven walls and stone with the spray bottle of water and quickly close the oven door. The steam will ensure a real crust. The loaves will be ready in about 40 minutes.
Per Pizze: If you are making pizze, divide the risen dough in half. Dust a breadboard heavily with cornmeal. Flatten, dust the top of each half with flour and roll out to a roughly 18 inch pie. Bake about 10 minutes on the stone PRIOR to adding toppings (or cooling and freezing for later).
Sourdough: Combine the room temperature starter with the warm water, honey, and a quarter cup of the whole wheat flour and setting it aside in a warm place. It should proof in an hour or two, at which point it will have a very foamy appearance and sharp smell. It may take several hours, or it might be ready in 15 minutes…it’s funny stuff. After it proofs, mix and knead as above, and set aside to double. I frequently allow the dough to rise overnight in a coolish place. Allowing sourdough to rise slowly is the key to a real sour flavor. If you like a milder flavor, accelerate the rise by placing the dough in a warmer location. Punch down, but don’t do a lot of secondary kneading (makes for a nice irregular crumb with lots of big holes) and form into two round loaves as above. Proceed with the second rise and baking as above.
Enjoy!
