Foods We Love : The Slice of Life

My father always said my mother tricked him into marrying her.

The first time she invited him for dinner she served creamed herring. He loved it; he was so fond of her creamed herring, in fact, that she served it every time he came to dinner. Then they got married, moved into their own apartment, and herring disappeared from the table. It made the silver smell funny, my mother said. My father laughed every time he told the story, but he clearly felt betrayed.

My mother tried to make up for it. Every morning she got out of bed, walked down to the bakery and came back with fresh rolls.

Because if there was one thing (apart from creamed herring) that my father loved, it was bread. Fortunately, we lived in New York. Every night of the week Mom managed to make a different kind of bread appear on our table.

Before I was 10 I knew every bakery in town. Mom would take me down to Little Italy, where we bought fat, crusty loaves sprinkled with sesame seeds, and to the Lower East Side, where I dangled my fingers into the pickle barrels while Mom bought corn rye with caraway seeds. We’d take the bus uptown to Yorkville to buy smoked pork chops and dense black Bauernbrot. Way over in the West Village my mother had discovered an old French bakery that still made fat, snowy loaves of pain de mie. Sometimes we even went to Chinatown, where we bought the even whiter, barbecue-filled rolls that my father called “pork sandwiches.” If we timed the trip right we could stop in and pick up one of the dense, crusty, stone-colored loaves of bread that came out of the last wood-burning oven in the city.

Mom also knew a Greek baker who made rings of bread I liked to wear like bracelets. In our quest for bread we sometimes ended up celebrating holidays we knew nothing about; one of my favorite breads was the hot, greasy street bread called zeppole that you got only on what was known as “The Feast.”

No matter how bad the food might be at home (and it was frequently terrible), there was always something good to eat in my mother’s house: the bread. I thought every home was like ours. Then I went out into the world and discovered the sorry stuff that the rest of America considered adequate. I felt very sorry for people who had to face those square white slices every day.

And it occurred to me that in a world filled with wonderful things, bread is just about the best.

I like almost every kind of bread--in a pinch I can even be talked into eating the squishy white stuff--but the very best bread is the one that has just come out of the oven. It doesn’t have to be your own oven--it’s actually better if it’s not, commercial ovens being better able to produce truly crisp crust--but if you don’t happen to have a bakery handy, your own oven will certainly do. While you might not get the very crispest crust on your loaf, home-baked bread offers one enormous advantage: the wild smell of yeast that lingers in the kitchen for hours, improving every bite.

Fresh bread needs only one thing: very cold, unsalted butter. Olive oil on bread is acceptable, but not particularly delicious. Salted butter is acceptable too--but it doesn’t have the creamy sweetness that is the perfect companion to the steadfast character of bread. As for soft butter--it does nothing but add gloss and calories.

Cold butter on hot bread is unbeatable. But baking your own bread offers another large dividend: The admiration and appreciation of those who get to share it. The first time I offered my father a warm loaf of bread, I watched his eyes light up. He pulled up a chair, sat down at the kitchen table and slowly, happily, methodically ate most of the loaf.

I’m sure if my mother had baked bread, my father would have forgiven her for the herring.

A Dutch oven is wonderful for baking bread, as it creates an oven within the oven, which provides even heat for the loaf and makes the crust crisper. Good flour is important when baking bread--as is good water; if you have bottled water, use it.

CRUSTY BREAD 2 cups all-purpose flour 1 cup whole-wheat flour 1 1/2 teaspoons salt 1 package dry yeast 1 cup warm water, about 2 tablespoons olive oil Starter Cornmeal

Combine flours in large bowl and mix in salt.

Dissolve yeast in 1/2 cup warm water. Add olive oil. Make well in center of flour and add yeast mixture and Starter. Mix well, adding just enough warm water to incorporate all flour. If dough is not stiff enough it will flatten.

Mix 4 minutes, then cover bowl, put in warm place and let rise 2 hours. Punch dough down 2 to 3 minutes, roll into 6-inch ball.

Lightly grease Dutch oven and sprinkle with cornmeal. Gently place ball of dough in Dutch oven. Let rise about 1 hour, or until doubled.

With sharp razor, gently slash top of loaf with X, making shallow incisions so dough won’t sink. Cover Dutch oven and bake at 500 degrees 20 minutes. Turn oven down to 300 degrees and bake 35 to 40 minutes more, or until loaf is golden and crusty.

Turn bread out of Dutch oven and cool on rack. Makes 1 loaf, or about 8 servings.

Each serving contains about: 299 calories; 462 mg sodium; 2 mg cholesterol; 5 grams fat; 54 grams carbohydrates; 11 grams protein; 1.02 grams fiber.

Note: If you do not have Dutch oven, place bread on cornmeal-sprinkled baking sheet to rise. Place baking sheet on center shelf in 500-degree oven. Place pan filled with hot water on oven floor. Bake 20 minutes, remove water, turn oven down to 300 degrees and bake 35 to 40 minutes more or until loaf is golden and crusty. Remove from oven and let bread cool on baking sheet.

Starter 2 tablespoons malt syrup 1/4 cup cornmeal 1 cup scalded milk 1 cup hard-wheat flour 1 package dry yeast

Place malt syrup and cornmeal in large glass jar. Pour in scalded milk. When lukewarm, stir in flour and yeast. Cover with cheesecloth and let stand 12 to 18 hours.