(originally published in British Baker)

Foccacia has a home, in Italy, and a birthplace in the town of Genoa. That’s what Italians from Genoa tell me. But then as every man, woman and child of Italian extraction seems to have a slightly different take on their homeland’s culinary traditions, it is only right that there are many versions of the crisp oily Italian flat bread.

above, the dimples and salt strewn terrain of a foccacia, taking on slightly green hue from the olive oil brushed on after baking

In the most general terms, a focaccia is a thin sheet of bread dough, probably made with Italian ‘00’ flour, dimpled with the impressions from the bakers fingertips, and washed with oil, salt and a little water before baking. There is a tradition of topping the sheets of dough with a simple herb, vegetable or cheese (rarely more than one), but purists deny these variations exist, and prefer the dough kept simple.

There are many recipes for the perfect focaccia, and many bakers who will insist there is only one. So we should look at the possible ingredients, and find the recipe that works best for your bakery. Below is a simple recipe I’m using at the moment, and following that, thoughts on the ingredients used.

The dough

1000g Italian 00 flour (100%)
325g sour starter (32.50%), made with 50% flour to 50% water
7.4g slow-activity yeast (Craftbake) (0.74%)
22.4g fine sea salt (2.24%)
25g dark dry malt (Edme) (2.50%)
50g extra virgin olive oil (5.00%)
50g refined pork lard (5.00%), optional
650g water at 10ºC (65.55%)

final dough temperature around 22ºC

above, a cut section from the focaccia showing defined aeration and thin upper and lower crust

Mix on first speed for 3 minutes, then on second speed for 12 minutes (until very elastic and forms a fine membrane when stretched between the fingers). Tip into a tray brushed with a liberal amount of good olive oil (500g per 10kg of dough), cover with a plastic sheet, and leave at 22ºC – 25ºC for 2 hours, turning the dough every 45 minutes, and using more oil where necessary. Pin out into an oil brushed 4-sided tray, short prove to recover, dimpled with fingertips, brushed with oil/water/salt mixture if desired, sprinkle with extra flaked sea salt, and bake in a hot 230ºC deck, top heat 7–8, bottom heat 2-3, for 30+ minutes, until a good golden brown on top.

The ingredients and method

Firstly, the flour for any flat bread has slightly different requirements to that for a 400g round English loaf. We’re not looking for too much oven spring, perhaps more generous extensibility than strength in the available gluten, and above all we want tenderness rather than toughness. One popular recent characteristic, though perhaps not entirely traditional, is for the crumb to display a wild, open texture. New Zealand baker Peter Burge, formerly of the Exeter Street Bakery, London, created a dramatic open texture in the sheet Focaccia sold at their high street bakeries with strong flour and long fermentation. By cutting a traditional ‘00’ Italian flour with another stronger white flour, such as Dove’s Farm’s excellent Biobake Strong White Bakers Flour, a similar result can be achieved.

above, cracked black peppercorns and cheese melts into the surface of the foccacia, cut here to show an open texture to the crumb

However, be careful in using very strong flours. Sometimes the flavour can be a little thin, and with strength comes a tough bite, so consider their use carefully and reduce the amount of strong flour in the mix until you achieve the result you require. Strong white flour added up to 30% of your total flour weight should suffice. My own preference lately is to use a single Italian flour with a slightly higher strong gluten content.

In this way you get a result made entirely with Italian flour (a selling point), together with a bite and texture that seems appropriate. There is a slight loss in crumb aeration, but the dough flavour is enhanced. Other flours can be used, if labelling with origin of ingredients is not a selling point or concern. A mixture of baguette flour (T55) or traditional baguette premix (such as Moul-bie’s Campaillette) and strong white flour, could be used and will given rather striking results, though might struggle to claim any authenticity.

But one of the key factors that affects crumb aeration is water content. Simply put, the more water the more holes. Firstly, remember that the available gluten in a flour is activated when water hydrates the strands of protein (gliadin and glutenin) which bind to form gluten, and their individual qualities of strength and elasticity will combine to give the final gluten its final characteristics. So different levels of gliadin and glutenin will result in different characteristics to the final available gluten. Make sense? Generally speaking, if a flour can hold a greater proportion of water, its ability to extend and hold carbon dioxide created by the yeast will be greater. And with it, the possibility of more holes in the final dough. How much water? If you’re using 100% Italian ‘00’, then probably not much more than 65%. If using a mixture of Italian and strong white, then up to 68%. If using a t55 and strong white up to 50%, then that can be increased to 70+%.

above, halved cherry tomatoes, tossed with olive oil, sea salt and thyme, are baked on top

Other ingredients typical would be malt (2 or 3%), yeast (up to 1% if using a souring with an extended prove, without the souring up to 1.5%), salt (less than 2% if you are salting the top of the focaccia), and some sort of fat (5 – 10%). In the north of Italy, rendered pork lard is used commonly, and it is a flavour that is particularly suited to the bread. However, given many customers dietary restrictions, the addition of a small amount of olive oil into the mix will be enough. The combination of malt and fat help to colour the bread quickly in the oven, and stops the thin dough drying out too much during the baking. Given the old links between brewing and baking in Europe, the use of malt is also quite authentic in most of our fermented breads. I also add a sour starter to the mix at 30 – 35% of total flour weight.

But it’s also important to fully work the dough during the mixing and to aerate the focaccia dough during the bulk fermentation if this capacity is to be utilized. In a small plant or bakery, where hand skills can be employed, I find that turning the dough in a tray spread with good olive oil, as you would turn puff pastry, helps to introduce more air pockets throughout the dough. Every 40 minutes or so, the dough is very roughly pinned out in the tray, dimpled with the fingertips but not really degassed, then folded upon itself in thirds. The oil helps protect the focaccia dough from the rigors of the stretching. If you get tearing on the dough surface, then use more oil.

To achieve that final open texture in the sheet focaccia, there is one more technique to remember. By stretching the dough into the sheet corners gradually, with short rests in-between handling, small air pockets will also be stretched into long elliptical pockets, which will expand upwards in the oven heat into large holes. Dimple the surface with your fingers while you push the dough out into the tray, but do not go so far as to degass the dough. Rest the dough then stretch it finally into the corners of the sheet. Then let the dough have a short final prove for 15 minutes at a warm temperature (28C+), before baking in a hot (230C) oven, with a little steam, top heat high (7 or 8) and bottom heat low (2 or 3).

above, fresh from the oven (it's actually hurting the baker's hands), the baguette looks taut and slightly burnt on the edges of the tears

…would smell as sweet.

Recipes and tricks for improving your sticks

(Originally published in British Baker)

Recipes for the perfect baguette are probably as numerous as bakeries in France, and each baker appears to claim a secret ingredient or technique that makes him the star boulanger. But do they have anything in common?

Well, flour for a start. A perfect baguette begins and ends with the right qualities in flour. Soft wheat does make for dough that requires slow cool mixing, leaving the mixer at around 22 – 23ºC, creating a dough that is delicate and difficult to handle.

Next, cool water is needed to achieve that final dough temperature. Following that, a bulk fermentation of at least 45 minutes, but often longer. Then the dough is scaled, lightly rounded, left for 15 – 20 minutes, before being shaped with the aid of a baguette moulder and left to proove on a flour dusted cloth. To finish, the baguette is transferred to a peel or a setter, slashed 6 or 7 times with a sharp blade, and deposited on a hot stone to bake. These are the rules of the baguette, set in the stone of tradition.

above, each of the cuts slightly tears, and when sliced the crumb shows an open texture

However, the only way to judge a perfect baguette is by tasting one. Remember the days of the fine English ‘French Stick’? Remember that deliciously tough elastic crust, with a smooth brilliant white crumb and those dainty dimples left from the perforated cradle that the dough sat in, while it baked in its fan-assisted oven? Well, the perfect French baguette is a different beast altogether. We’re looking for crispness in a thin tender crust, a creamy-coloured crumb with an uneven aerated light texture, and the oval circumference and dark base crust only achieved through stone-sole oven baking. The taste should be of wheat with a hint of acidity, neither too sour nor too yeasty.

But to simplify things a little, lets start with a very simple and rather ordinary baguette:

1.000kg T55 (100%)
0.650kg water at 18 – 20ºC (65%)
0.020kg yeast (2%)
0.020kg – 0.023kg salt (2% – 2.3%)
1.690kg total weight

Mix together on 1st speed for 3 minutes, then on 2nd speed for 7 minutes. Remove from bowl, leave to bulk for 45 minutes, the scale, shape and proove. Cut with a blade (seven slashes), and then bake at 225ºC for 25 minutes, with a little steam in the beginning and the vent open after 15 minutes.

To be fair, I don’t know any baker using a recipe as simple as the one above. It produces a bread so uniform, and unspectacular, that there is no gain in making it yourself. However, by tweaking the recipe a little we can soon change that.

If we start by making a sponge, we can begin to add character to the baguette by opening up the texture. Here is the way I change a direct recipe into one that uses a sponge and dough. Take a third of the original total dough weight (appx. 560g), and then divide that number in half (280g). Then take that amount of flour and water (from the total quantities) and mix together with one quarter of the yeast. So our new recipe will look like this:

For the sponge:

0.280kg T55
0.280kg water at 18 – 20º C
0.005kg yeast

Mix together thoroughly, and leave for 2 hours (agitating the mixture briefly after 1 hour)

For the dough

0.720kg T55
0.370kg water at 18 – 20º C
0.005kg yeast
0.020kg – 0.023kg salt

Mix together with the sponge on 1st speed for 3 minutes, then on 2nd speed for 7 minutes. Remove from bowl, leave to bulk for 45 minutes, the scale, shape and proove. Cut with a blade (seven slashes), and then bake at 225ºC for 25 minutes, with a little steam in the beginning and the vent open after 15 minutes. As the sponge is a large fermenting batter, we have reduced the total yeast quantity to 1% of the total flour weight, split between the sponge and final dough.

Getting better, but still not to my mind a perfect baguette. Lets change the flour next.

above, the same dough as in the image below, but shaped into a ball, proved upturned in a basket, and baked with a little steam in a deck oven

Flours such as Moul-bie’s Campaillette and Viron’s Retrador are milled and blended specially to open the texture of the baguette. Changing your flour either on the direct recipe, or ideally on the sponge and dough method will dramatically enhance the texture and final crust on the baguette.

Before the introduction of these flours, I tended to cut the T55 with a little Canadian-rich English flour. This had the advantage of being able to tolerate more water in the dough, enabling the actual water content to be increased from 65% up to 68% (or 70%). This produced a very crisp baguette with huge bubbles throughout the light crumb. Very seductive, but difficult to manage and shape.

So the recipe would change to:

0.350kg Canadian
0.400kg water at 18 – 20ºC
0.005kg yeast

Mix together thoroughly, and leave for 2 hours (agitating the mixture briefly after 1 hour)

For the dough

0.650kg T55
0.300kg water at 18 – 20ºC
0.005kg yeast
0.020kg – 0.023kg salt

above, try and keep the crust colour relatively even - a baguette should display great control

Mix together with the sponge on 1st speed for 3 minutes, then on 2nd speed for 7 minutes. Remove from bowl, leave to bulk for 45 minutes, the scale, shape and proove. Cut with a blade (seven slashes), then bake at 225ºC for 25 minutes, with a little steam in the beginning and the vent open after 15 minutes.

Baguette au levain

This is the recipe I use. It combines the use of Canadian plus T55, together with a sour sponge replacing the yeasted sponge. This is not an overnight-yeasted batter, but rather a levain that has been started by letting a mixture of currants, water and flour ferment, then sieving the mixture and refreshing it daily with equal quantities of flour and water.

Let me warn you that producing a sharp healthy levain or sourdough is a craft that needs practice. There is a way around this, by using one of the prepared sour ferments available on the market, or by sending off to a company called www.sourdo.com who produce little sachets of dried yeast combined with lactic enzymes that will give the desired flavour, texture and crumb structure.

At the moment in both France and the US, electric fermentation tanks that keep the sour ferment at a constant temperature with gentle agitation, are becoming increasingly common in the bakeries that aim to produce excellence in quantity.

For the baguette recipe I would keep the sponge at 35% of the total flour weight.

0.350kg sour starter
0.650kg T55
0.350kg Canadian
0.625kg water at 18 – 20ºC
0.005kg yeast
0.020kg – 0.023kg salt

Four other techniques in use:

A slow, final fermentation at 12-14ºC is especially useful for baguette au levain, and if the yeast is reduced still further allows for a complex slightly sour acidity to develop. Also increases the crust colour when baked

Mixing the dough entirely on first speed, for 15 – 18 minutes, can help develop the crumb flavour and structure. If you have the time!

Mixing the dough on first speed for 3 minutes, then leaving the dough to rest for 30 minutes – 1 hour, before giving a final mix on second speed for 5 minutes. As above.

Delaying adding the salt until the last 3 minutes of mixing. Particularly good if you are using only a sour starter and no commercial yeast

(from British Baker, first published November 2001)

Before the arrival of cheap and affordable domestic ovens, there was a clear division between the types of baked goods that were made at home, and those that were purchased from the local baker.

We had our trade goods that formed the core of our production, tin loaves and Vienna breads, fruit and Madeira cakes, finger and penny buns, and women encouraged to stay at home would bake more for reasons of economy than necessity. But now we live in a world where the work of home-maker is not valued, and indeed labouring work of any kind is foolishly scorned as lowly and worthless.

We still purchase our domestic ovens as if we will bake with them daily, choose home kitchen equipment as if we were setting up a business, yet fill the cupboards and fridges with ready-meals and frozen prepared foods.

Baking books are sold for the home baker, yet are often purchased as culinary travelogues. These aspiring bakers flick through the pages with awe, perhaps attempt a recipe rushed through one week-end, then the book remains closed and its spine adds colour to their designer kitchen shelves.

These recipes are desired, the images of breads and cakes lusted after, yet given our industry’s reticence to move beyond the old bakery goods that form the core of our production, the products these recipes represent will never be made available to a wider public. That’s a shame.

Baking books are not really produced for the working commercial baker, and we rely on ingredient manufacturers to supply us with new ideas and recipes. Yet, there is a cheap and readily available supply of inspiring recipes out there that could help create new ideas for products in the bakery – the home baking book.

The complaint is often made that books designed for the domestic cook are not written in percentages, therefore cannot be of use in the bakery. Now, I would argue that a baker that cannot do the arithmetic and convert a recipe into percentages would probably have difficulty with any recipe in the bakery. And given the common practice of pouring un-weighed quantities of flour or water into the dough when it doesn’t look right, I’m never sure that percentages are ever rigorously followed.

However, assuming some bakers were away the day percentages were explained by the maths teacher at school, here’s a very quick primer. Copy the recipe from the cookbook on to a blank sheet of paper, and weigh every cup, tablespoon and teaspoon, so that you have a recipe with metric weights next to ingredients. Leave eggs until the recipe is scaled large enough to warrant weighing them. Next add together the weights of all of the ingredients, so that you have a total dough or mixture weight. Next, multiply each ingredient weight by 100, and then divide by the total dough weight.

This will give you the ingredient as a percentage of the total recipe. Then scale the recipe to a quantity large enough to be realistically tested, and then modify the recipe according to your taste or opinion of the result.

These books are a very good indicator of the way consumer taste is moving, and can help us realign our industry with the desires of our consumers. We only add to our excellence by allowing our bakeries to be innovative and evolving, and we must resist the temptation to become stuck in our ways.

(from British Baker, first published October 2001)

There is a streak of opinion in our industry that holds us to be a sub branch of the DSS, providing cheap food for the needy and the poor. To produce a better loaf, a premium baked pie or cake, is a perceived snub to our core market of customers in search of the cheapest sustenance.

Even the possibility of producing a better loaf is met with tired cynicism, as if cheapness was the only goal we can pursue. My view has been, and will always be, that at our most expensive we still provide outstanding value for our customers. Since this is the essence of every loaf we bake, can we not move on and look for other qualities to prize.

I believe that at times of insecurity there is a natural instinct to question the direction of life, to reaffirm, modify, or discard the values that have paved our past. That time is now for many of us, perhaps all of us.

It saddens me when I talk to bakers about a loaf crafted with their own hands, a product of their work and time, dismissed as worthless, a lump of dough worth pennies. Our skill alone is worth more than that.

When we read of redundancies, bankruptcies and closures, it is hard not to take the blow as a criticism by the market of our worth, both personal and professional. It may be, but that criticism is not necessarily supported by a truth pertinent or reflective of our ability and skill. Where, in this difficult time, can we look for reassurance and direction?

This is where a dream is needed. To focus on what constitutes the important elements we want at the forefront of our community, and to start putting back into our industry the good and honourable elements that we value.

This dream has got to rich and vivid, beyond ‘making a buck’, and needs to set out a plan for creating a healthy varied baking industry for Britain. It will vary in detail for each one of us. There won’t be a single visionary or saviour – this dream must be constructed by individual bakers working collectively for change.

Excellence on every level is achievable, if we avoid sitting around and shrugging our shoulders. Wake up to the fact that we are entering a tough time, and it will take participation outside of the workplace to forge a healthy future.

I hear people say ‘we can’t get good bakers for love nor money’, yet how have you helped change that? There are students out there who want to hear the positive side of our work, who want to learn about the dedication and challenges, who want to be inspired. Maybe not all students, as some industry teachers tell me, but we must identify and attract those that do.

And do you know, our moral and professional duty is to be that guidance, to be role models who expound values greater than the chase for wealth. We have industry bodies and events that are flagging through lack of enthusiasm, yet we carry the expectation that the rest of the country should be enthused by us. If you truly want our businesses to be up there as stars within the economy, then you need to be out there active in our community to make it happen.

(from British Baker, first published August 2001)

Saturday in the bakery store should be a grand day. A sense of wonder and amusement and deep desire should be impressed upon every customer who walks through the door. Well, that’s my take on weekend retailing. Theatre, magic, part side-show, part freak show. See the amazing two pound bagel, gasp at the precarious choux bun pyramid, wonder at the fragile five foot bread sticks. Perhaps not everyday bread. But then Saturday is not every day.

If perceived convenience is a motivator for premium sales, then it is important to analyze what makes a food ‘convenient’. Does the customer simply want a slice of bread that fits into a kitchen appliance, or a biscuit that is warm and crisp at the ping of the microwave? Or does convenient also mean that with one deft shopping swoop the success of the meal is complete. A proud loaf that can sit alongside a bottle of wine in the centre of the table. Taken as a gift to the host at a dinner party. A box of mini cakes that will silence and subdue the noisiest of children. Within bakery, we have the ability to produce a range of superb breads, cakes, biscuits and sweet things that make the weekend run smoothly for our customers.

As a child I would press my face against the glass of the doughnut shop and watch as a machine pumped out a soft yellow ring of batter and dropped it into the boiling fat. Very slowly it would travel along in the oil, before a mechanical hand lifted it out and flipped the golden puffed ring into a pile of cinnamon sugar. It’s only now I realize why the machine was in the window. So kids like me would press their noses against the glass and subsequently pester our parent to buy doughnuts . Just like the fairground machines that show the automation, or the other worlds hidden inside the garishly painted caravans, tempting with outrageous claims of the surprises that await. Create a retail fairground and work the crowd.

It’s no good telling customers, as they look dismayed at the lone cake on the white plastic tray, how good it will be when taken home and placed on a fine plate in the centre of the table. No more than a playwright who sits on a chair talking us through their latest work, in the centre of a bleak stage under bright florescent lights. This expects imagination on the part of the customer, and the weekend is ideally not a thinking time. Go to Ikea (or even Oxfam), find plates and china that suit you, and present the cakes and breads as you would at home. Have bowls of cut bread everywhere, and encourage customers to taste. Experiment with new recipes at the weekend, and use dramatic scaling weights and shapes. Put music on if you like, but just make sure every sense is bombarded. Yep, you’ll have a headache come 5pm, but you will have grabbed attention.

(from British Baker, first published July 2001)

Well, I’ve heard your comments, and a few readers will be pleased to know that the photograph above the page will soon be changing soon. Some felt that a picture of a denim clad baker in a wheat field sent the wrong impression, an alarming and somewhat puzzling response. So I’m open to suggestions as to what sort of backdrop and apparel would make a suitable impression on us.

Many years ago I used to be an advertising photographer. My work was to create images that sent a message to a particular consumer, a set of values in a picture that specifically outlined the emotional appeal of the product. No campaign was ever intended to sell to everyone, but rather to appeal to the consumer that was most likely to enjoy the product. Enjoy rather than use, since if it could create an emotional bond between the consumer and the product, the campaign would be deemed a success. Aiming to increase the number of consumers that bought the product because they believed the image reflected the way they felt about themselves. The price of the product was the icing on the cake.

I am happy to apply these values to the small, almost insignificant picture at the top of the page. But I want you to think of the images we in the baking industry send to our customers, and ask whether they too send the right message. From the packaging, to the look of the shop window, to the catalogue of bakery products, to the advertising that appears in the pages of this magazine, every printed image must be seen as an opportunity to differentiate our products from the competition. Please don’t try and make products and their promotion look like that of the competition. If you want to join a club, do so. But if you want to sell, tell me and every other consumer what is different about you, what is special, and why I would want to buy your product above all others.

There is a book out in the U.S. at the moment, called “Artisan baking across America”. I must admit I have only just glanced at the recipes. But what is inspiring is the way that bakeries look and are photographed. It’s not particularly American, and many older bakers will recognize the ovens and bakery layout. The interesting thing is, no bakery is old either. Clearly all have been designed to present an image, of tradition, craft values, and local style, as well as being workable and practical. From the uniforms the bakers wear to the layout of the store, all are designed to send coded messages to consumers about the values of each company. Remember, these are new bakeries trying to be both youthful yet suggesting tradition. If you like, a very Hollywood view of the baking industry.

Soon, this magazine will undergo a redesign, and I salute Sylvia (the editor) for that. I hope that it sends a message to all in our industry that even the oldest bakery trade magazine can both be comfortable about its heritage as well as lead the way in presenting a relevant visual image to its readers and advertisers. I know many of you having been working this industry for longer than me, and some are perhaps despondent and tired from fighting. But we must renovate our appearance, and rejuvenate our approach in order to go forward, and this will make the future easier.

(from British Baker, first published July 2001)

Thought I’d test a recipe for a Christmas cake, and vary it a bit using mead to soak the fruit in. Mead. You remember, that rather sweet honey-based alcohol that became the stuff of our history. I thought its sweetness and honey notes would be good in a fruitcake, but as the recipe was for a consumer magazine it made sense to check where it’s available. Tried the local supermarkets, but no luck. The assistants at the old local wine store, with its dusty old bottles and young staff, were puzzled. “Ever heard of a wine called Mead?” one shouted out the back. I tried to explain that it was more of liquor, but that made matters worse. “Ever heard of a wine called Liquor”. At this point I left the store quickly.

It seems to happen every seven years or so. The ingredients I’m used to, the equipment I know, the familiar faces in my world have moved on. The flours are different, better I’m told, and spare parts are no longer available for the cherished equipment in the bakery. Obsolete, the reps say. Everyone’s moved on. Our consumer’s diet has become more promiscuous and flighty. As soon as a product becomes very successful and imitated, the decline quickly sets in. At that point you’re left with products that don’t sell, made with ingredients no longer required, made from kit no longer suited to the fashionable demands of the market.

Add to that list skills no longer of use, and you have an accurate picture of the bind food manufacturers and their employees are in. Yet, we do have a use. Though it feels sometimes that our place on the national dinner table has been taken by other foods, our somewhat shrunken form still contributes greatly to the economy. Though venture capital is scarce for baking companies whose livelihood depends on the fickle buying procedures of the multiples, there must be those who look beyond our old-fashioned demeanour. And see that we draw from past knowledge to sustain our growth.

Without investment, how will we create the brand heroes in the bakery sector, to focus the gaze of the city, and its politicians on us? Perhaps you think only the consumer is swayed by the whims of fashion? Just reflect on the last few years, the Internet and mobile phone ‘revolutions’, and compare that to our industry. Perhaps we’re not sexy; maybe we’re old-fashioned and seasoned with experience, but unlike some we produce a dependable and growing income for a consumer who will turn increasingly to us as the winds of recession begin to blow. I will happily go again and again to meetings, demanding interest rather than dismissal for our bakery sector. Most of the time I get looked at like the nutter asking for mead at the wine store. But eventually those outside our industry will grasp the notion that the success we have as our goal is achievable and just ahead of us.

(from British Baker, first published June 2001)

Probably the most common question craft bakers (and increasingly plant bakers) ask me is ‘how can I create and develop new breads’. Often the techniques are slightly different, but though teaching courses are a great idea, very few of us have the time free to go to them. Good books can be very helpful, and though there was once a time when we produced excellent baking guides for the working baker, sadly that time has passed.

But with the advent of the internet, what seems to have been forgotten in all the excitement over the vast sums made and lost, is that it remains an excellent way to research and share information at very little cost. Out on the web there are great sites, written by working bakers and knowledgeable enthusiasts that make it very simple to find out more information about baking techniques and processes. From plant baking though to craft, there is a wealth of information, recipes, ingredient suppliers, and contact details that are available 24 hours a day.

So, first of all, get a computer for the bakery – if only for putting your recipes on. Install on it a spreadsheet program like Microsoft’s Excel or Lotus’s 123. These programs have the power to easily calculate recipes, making sure that you produce exactly the amount of dough you need each day, maintaining the same proportions of your original recipe. This saves money, time, and lets you be a better baker. If the computer doesn’t have a modem, get one and run it through your existing telephone line. From there on you will have access to a vast collection of baking information.

How to search? Go to a good search engine, such as alltheweb.com (my favourite). It also has a filter to remove any XXX websites from your search, which is helpful when a search for ‘cream buns’ returns rather too many imaginative ideas. Whenever you are searching for a subject, say for plant baking, put the term in inverted commas. This way the search engine will only look for sites where the words occur next to each other. This can also be done a few times in the same search, so if you type in “plant baking” “tunnel oven”, you will only return the pages that have both terms on the site.

If you know a site already, such as our own www.britishbaker.net, just type the address in the bar at the top of your web browser, usually either Microsoft’s Internet Explorer, or Netscape’s Navigator, and press the return bar on your keyboard. Other sites? Most I look at tend to be overseas, as trends at the moment seem inbound to the UK. Bakery-net.com, is very good and seems to get the balance of articles right for both plant and craft baking. It also has a small recipe index. For industrial baking, another US site bakeryonline.com does offer a good insight into plant baking across the pond. Don’t always be put off the sites that cater for the home baker. Sourdo.com is a strange site which sells freeze-dried wild yeast starters. I’ve always meant to try them, but the reports are very good.

As for books, if they are new and in print, Amazon.co.uk will have them or can get them from its US branch. Or if you want to help support the small high street bookstore, just get the information on the book you want and pass it on to them to buy it. Two books I would recommend at the moment are “Bread and Butter” by Tom McMakin (St. Martins Press, 2001) about creating a baking company; and an older one, “The Bread Builders”, by Daniel Wing and Allan Scott (Chelsea Green Publishing, 1999). Their book, though essentially about artisanal oven building, does give very detailed information about craft dough-making methods, and if I’d had the book 10 years ago it would have quickly helped my baking.

Finally, if you see an email address for a baker or writer whom you think might know the answer to your question, then just send a quick note and ask. Throughout the world there are bakers ready and willing to exchange information and help you bake better bread, and run a more successful business.

(from British Baker, first published May 2001)

I’ve got a joke. A guy goes to the doctor and says, “If I cut alcohol, salt, sugar, butter and meat out of my diet, will I live a longer life?” The doctor thinks for a moment and says, “Don’t know. But it will certainly seem longer.” Like many of you reading this, I struggle with my diet. That is, I know what I should be eating, the five portions of fruit and vegetables a day, drinking lots of water (apparently one litre before lunch – try it, it feels like some sort of water torture), making alcohol an occasional drink rather than the regular fluid intake, and so on. And in the list, tucked somewhere between lard and sugar, is salt. Reduce your intake of salt, the doctors say. Better for your heart, less risk of hypertension.

The only trouble is, I like salt. Those little Spanish anchovies packed in sea salt, brine-soaked soft black olives tossed in fresh herbs, big fat chips fried in lard and tossed in salt. A slab of crisp foccacia drizzled in olive oil, and sprinkled with Maldon sea salt. This ‘added salt’ is in addition to the plentiful quantity used to cook the food I eat. And the bread I bake.

When I bake I tend to use between 2% and 2.2% of table salt per kilo of flour, and on average about 68% water to flour weight. So flour + water + salt gives a salt content in the dough of about 1.29%. A 950g piece of dough has 12.25g salt (roughly 4.9g sodium and 7.35g chlorine that combine to make sodium chloride), and after baking down to an 800g loaf still contains the same amount of salt. If we cut that loaf into 18 slices, then each slice contains about 680mg of salt. Two sandwiches made up from four slices of bread gives us a little less than half (2.72g) of our adult daily recommended salt allowance of 6g (max) for an adult.

Now as an adult, reasonably well educated, I guess I feel comfortable with the idea that my dietary choices in life might have a detrimental effect on my long-term health. But it wasn’t until recently, when I was threatened in a dark alleyway by a gang of nutritionists on a mission (ok, it was in a staff room in Reading) that I was made to see that many of our customers don’t have the knowledge to support their choices in life. Affected by advertising claims, promotions, inner desires and the traditions of their family’s taste, they do not consider bread a salt rich food. Nor did I.

Suddenly the image of a child skipping up the hill in Haworth to buy a crusty loaf from the old-fashioned bakery is a little more worrying (though its not like he picked up 20 Rothmans from the old-fashioned corner store). For a child’s diet, having nearly 1.5 grams of salt in the bread in their lunch (assuming they have just one sandwich) is not good. Add to that the salt in the filling, the soft drink, and the cake, and we have a dangerous problem.

The solution? I do believe that to drastically reduce the amount of salt in bread is to denature it, and that the risks to adult health must always be weighed against the way we adults choose to live life. So this is what we can do. We begin accepting bread as a high sodium food, and label it as such. Next, we need to identify bakery products particularly aimed at children, insist they be low in sodium, and encourage parents to purchase two types of daily bread. Finally, we develop low-sodium breads and cakes and add them to our existing product list. Now, I’ve got to go. I can hear an anchovy calling my name….

(from British Baker, first published May 2001)

It saddens me a little when I see so many excellent fruits and vegetables come into season, yet many bakers within our community seem unwilling to use them. Preferring instead to rely on the convenience and consistency of tinned or frozen fruit. Listen, I do accept there are many times when preserved fruits are preferable. There are health and safety issues that must be addressed when using any raw produce, and procedures and routines that must be followed. And the reliability of tinned or frozen food is a reassurance. But they should compliment and add to a frequent use of the best fresh produce you can buy.

I was in one town where the high street baker was situated next to the greengrocer. In the grocer’s window, and outside in baskets, were fine purple plums, rose blushed apricots, small boxes of fresh berries, and locally grown apples and pears. The grocers were very busy. Yet, bleakly displayed in the baker’s window were the usual suspects – a half filled tray of doughnuts with fondant and a glace cherry, a couple of cheese and pickle sandwiches, and six custard tarts. There was an image of sadness to the window, and the baker’s was quiet. I’m not suggesting that the lack of customers was due to the food on offer. Yet, I wouldn’t have bought anything there.

Are the skills needed to utilize fresh produce so foreign to us now? The ability to peel an apple, to slice a plum, to poach and simmer fresh fruit in sugar syrup, or to roast it simply with cinnamon, lemon and honey, are surely not forgotten skills to those of us who call ourselves ‘Master Bakers’? The cost of producing a few items each day, perhaps labour-intensive but rewarding both to the satisfaction of the baker and customer, is repaid tenfold by the customers it attracts. I may not always buy variety, but I sure want to know it’s there. We are creatures of habit, buying that same doughnut every day, but we want to buy it in a shop that inspires us.

Look at the way food is advertised on the television, say the Sainsbury’s advertisements with Jamie Oliver. What they attempt to say is that there is a youthfulness and vitality about the store. If you’re feeling the need to be active, without wanting to break into a sweat, there is something enticing and convenient to buy in the store. Certainly they don’t expect the profits to be generated by a few dried tomatoes and a portion of mozzarella. No, the big sellers will continue to be those everyday items like milk, eggs and potatoes. But to move those, they need to present an image that’s invigorating. These small attractive food items, whilst not adding greatly to the revenue, do have a vital role to play in the health of the business.

As bakers we have become confused about the meaning of ‘freshness’. It has little to do with a crisp crust on a loaf, or a crumb that stays bouncy soft for days. It refers to the way we capture and preserve the natural qualities of the produce we use to bake with, and the speed in which we make it available for purchase. So as the weather warms up, and the local market fruit becomes available, take advantage of it.