Baker In The House: More Close Encounters Of The Bread Kind

I do like to cook and bake while on vacation, but not while I am visiting my dad. The cleanliness standards are too high. So much the better that C. is doing all of the hard work and I am a sous-chef, or merely a curious on-looker.

This guy is serious. He even brought along his own banetton, creating a need where never there was one. Soon I will own my own banetton. You can see why.

C. spent nearly the entire day glued to the house. From the kneading, shaping, rising and slashing, to the actual baking, he had little time left for much else. The piece de resistance did not emerge from the oven until quite late and was not ready for consumption until after 4 p.m.



Under strict orders from the baker, it could not be sliced until completely cooled, as this might compromise the shape. I like my bread warm but there was no arguing here.



Izzy had to wait quite patiently as we photographed the final product. He tried not to be grabby.



And it still wasn't ready. A close-up shot was required, so that all could admire the fine texture.

This French Sourdough Boule was certainly worth all of the effort, crusty on the outside, chewy, slightly sour. The clincher..C. has no recipe..only promises of method and ingredients along with vague amounts.

This doesn't mean we can't replicate the bread as I have one important clue: He likes Peter Reinhart's books.