Monday, May 30, 2011

The Boules Had A Baby And They Named It Crusty Roll

The Birth of the Aquarium Pump Levain

Let it be known that I am a man of leisure. This means that if I think something can be done more easily, in a way that will save me effort, I will inevitably work twice as long and twice as hard to find out.

Do I want to stir my infant levain every few hours and risk inadequate oxygenation? Of course not. Do I want my Frankenstein Starter, resurrected from dehydrated and frozen sourdough to return to the land of the living through such mundane means? Of course not. Something mechanical and unnecessary is certainly required. Thus the birth of the Aquarium Pump Levain.

The set up could not be simpler. A small aquarium pump, quarter inch hose, and my tub of levain. Unfortunately, I already had the aquarium pump and some unused hose so I wasn't able to turn this into a several hour project with mulitiple trips to the pet store, and if lucky, the hardware store to boot.

I started with 300 grams each of flour and room temperature filtered water that had sat around for a day or so to get rid of the chlorine. Because Frankenstein must have an extra boost (and lightning being both spare and dangerous in the kitchen) I dipped my stirring fork into a jar of barley malt syrup before whipping flour and water into a honeymoon suite for the (hopefully soon to be) frisky yeast I had disinterred from the freezer. I was hoping for a procreating frenzy.

The whole thing was a crap shoot, to be honest. I had cultivated the original starter strictly from wild yeast found wandering aimlessly and stealthily in the air of my Tucson kitchen. I had no idea if the wild yeast of Tucson would be tasty yeast or recalcitrant beasts that would leave a nasty taste in your mouth. But I was lucky. I ended up, after a lot of coaxing and care, with a very nice, pleasantly sour starter that I kept going for a couple of years. Then I hit the wall and didn't want to bother with it anymore. I knew this phase would pass and I'd regret losing my starter so I gambled and spread a batch on some waxed paper and let it dry thoroughly. I crumbled it into an airtight zippered plastic bag and stuck it in the freezer. There's no guarantee anything viable will remain when you do that, but what the hey. Give it a whirl.

Apparently I got lucky. It didn't take long for my levain to start bubbling and begging for food. It was while stirring in another feeding that I hit on the idea of the aquarium pump and I immediately gathered the pieces (all two of them) and plugged one end into the wall and the other into the belly of the beast. Bubbles. Big bubbles. Oxygen bubbling up from the bottom of the tub to the surface. This certainly seemed like it would work. If I wandered through the kitchen I would sometimes move the hose around a bit to make sure air was hitting different spots, but other than regular feeding, I didn't spend any time whisking and stirring.

Several generous feedings and a few days later, I followed William Alexander's recipe for French peasant bread and sequestered the monster to the fridge. The bread turned out well. Delicious, though I suspect the crust too brown, possibly close to flirting with the edge of burning. But delicious. I'm thinking through that result and coming up with ideas. By the way, a questionably sharp Exacto knife is no substitute for a razor blade for slicing the top of your dough prior to cooking. Get a real razor blade. I know I will before the next loaf is baked.

As for the pump, it worked great, but I'm sure no better than frequently stirring the levain with a fork or whisk or bread hook. If you're into that kind of thing. But I can't help thinking that they probably make some kind of octopus fitting the would allow me to sink the hose into the starter with three or four of more pieces of hose radiating throughout the levain and feeding the oxygen to all corners at the same time. I might have to do that. You know, for those weekly feeding sessions. Time for a trip to the store.