Everybody's got a chink in their cooking armor. Mine is fluff.
Specifically, anything where the incorporation of air comes into play. This means souffles, meringues, popovers, and yeast breads--anything where restraint is a virtue, where part of the process is knowing when to walk away.
I'm a poker, a prodder, a meddler. If me coaxing a food along is more likely to harm then help, I'm sh*t out of luck.
But it's time to conquer cooking demons. Live yeast culture, quake at my presence.
The impetus for yeast domination was a bierock that I had at Peekskill Brewery (spelled beer lock on their bar menu). Billed as pretzel dough pockets with seasoned beef, red cabbage and apples, it was a genius concept in beer food that didn't quite take wing; the dough was a little tough, and when you jerked the little packets apart (or bit into them) crumbly, under-seasoned filling flew out.
(Much, much better on that visit was the pork belly with lentils, fried oysters, and arugula salad with blue cheese and pumpkin.)
But as I picked bits of beef and cabbage off my lap I thought, I bet I could do this better.
I'd come across bierocks paging through the gorgeous Saveur Cooks Authentic American; they're a hearty, field-friendly lunch (not unlike Chinese da bao, or Cornish pasties), popular on Mennonite farms in Kansas, whose recipe stems from German and Russian immigrants.
The Saveur bierocks were huge (think smooshed softball) and filled with ground beef, cabbage, cheddar cheese and mustard.
Which sounded great, 'cept on the day of the Great Yeast Forward, I was short a couple of those elements.
So I did some digging in the 'ol pantry and tweaked accordingly: Instead of the Eastern Blockequse cabbage and cheese, I was running with Japanese hamburger curry with peas. Spicy, economical, and bound to congeal in a way that made it easy to stuff into buns.
I wish I could say the road went smoothly but , my fluff blight was right on my heels.
I followed the damned instructions to the letter, set the dough in a warm spot in the kitchen to proof; the prescribed 30 minutes ticked by, and my kneaded mass failed to double.
Ooookaaay...don't panic. Maybe it needs to be somewhere warmer? Yeast likes warm. Set the dough bowl in a barely-on oven. 60 minutes. No movement. 90 minutes. 120. Doughy defiance.
I called Max, my handy breadmaster, in tears.
WHY? WHY WON'T SHE RISE, CAPTAIN???
"Did you test the yeast in water and sugar to make sure it was still active?" Yes.
"Did you knead the dough well?" Yup.
"Is the bowl somewhere warm?" Ayup.
Then....I dunno, baby. You're cursed.
I stared down at the dimpled, snickering mass. Not conceding defeat, I re-floured a clean surface, tested and prepped more yeast, kneaded the beer-smelling primordial brew into the smirking dough, set it back into it's oiled bowl, and plopped the bowl on the counter atop the dishwasher (set to plate warmer).
Three hours after the initial bloody proofing began, the FN dough finally doubled in size. I punched it down with grim relish.
The final results? An authentic fresh-baked-bread-smelling kitchen, and a dozen curry buns to bring to a potluck. The bread itself was soft and a little sweet, and matched well with the still-moist filling.
Next time I'll go spicer and more copious with the hamburger curry (the bread to filling ratio was about 2:1, oops), but they were still loads tastier and less combative in texture than the Peekskill bierocks.
Even though I halved the size of the giant Saveur buns, my 3-inch diameter babies were still too big and filling for a potluck, expanding in the stomach like starchy C4. For the next soiree, I'd make 'em as tiny as I possibly can (divide the dough to 32 balls, roll & fill); but for getting stuck on a plane, train, bus, cubicle or wheat field, the 3-inchers would be a welcome pocket meal.
My biggest mistake? I shouldn't have been trying to do this before a dinner party. Bread dough rushes for no man/woman; I turned what should have been a relaxing, ruminative ritual into a spiral of self-doubt.
We'll call it a draw, enemy fluff.
Hamburger Curry Buns (or Japanese Bierocks)
Adapted by An Effing Foodie
Base recipe: Saveur Cooks Authentic American (pg 178)
Ingredients:
For the dough:
- 1 tsp active dry yeast
- 5 cups bread flour
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/2 tsp kosher salt
- 1 1/2 cups lukewarm milk
- 8 TBSP butter, melted
- 2 eggs, lightly beaten
- 1 TBSP oil or butter, to grease the baking sheet
For the filling:
- 1-2 TBSP vegetable oil
- 1 medium onion, diced
- 1 lb. ground beef
- Cinnamon stick
- Bay leaf
- 1 cup frozen peas
- 1/2 of a 3.5 oz (100 g) package instant Japanese curry sauce (I used S&B, Hot)
- 2-3 TBSP water
- Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
To finish:
- 2 TBSP butter to gloss the finished buns
Method:
Allow yourself time; have nowhere to be. Pour yourself a glass of wine.
In a small bowl, dissolve yeast in 2 TBSP of warm water and a bitty pinch of sugar; in about 5 minutes, you should see small bubbles and froth if said yeast is fluffworthy. (Some mui-handy tips on yeast testing.)
In a large bowl, lightly combine dry ingredients--flour, sugar, salt.
In a medium bowl, mix together your wet ingredients--milk, melted butter, eggs, and yeast solution.
Pour your wet ingredients into your dry, and stir to combine. If it looks a too crumbly or dry to knead, add a little water.
Turn the dough out on a clean, lightly floured counter or tabletop, and knead until elastic, about 5-10 minutes. (You're developing gluten! Put your back into it!)
Place the kneaded dough into a oiled bowl, turning the dough to coat the oil. Cover the bowl with a clean dish towel and set in a warm, draftless spot to rise until doubled (an oven at 100 degrees F, or a counter that's over a running dishwasher).
In theory, it should take 30 minutes; but if it doesn't try another spot, and have another glass of wine.
When the dough has doubled, punch it down, and let it rise again, another theoretical 30 minutes.
While you're waiting on the 2nd rise, prepare the filling:
Heat 1-2 TBSP oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and cook until soft, about 5 minutes. Add beef and brown, about 5-7 minutes. Add cinnamon, bay leaf and peas; continue browning another 3-5 minutes.
Break the 1/2 a package of curry into smaller bricks and add it to the hamburger mixture. They should melt down and help to bind things a bit; if you need to, add 2-3 TBSP of water to ease things along, but not so far as to make a gravy. (If it's too wet, it'll be a pain to work with come bun-stuffing time.)
Taste and adjust seasoning--don't be afraid to get a little aggressive, the filling has to carry the bread. Allow to cool completely; congealing will help make the filling easier to handle.
Once the dough has doubled for the 2nd time, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a large baking sheet. Return dough to floured surface and divide into 20 balls.
Roll out a 3-inch round. Spoon 2 TBSP of beef mixture into the center. Fold the circle half (like a taco), pinch to seal, and then fold the 2 open edges in and seal as well. Survey and pinch as you must to assure an impregnable dough ball. Place seam side down on the greased sheet. Repeat 19x, allowing space between the buns for expansion (I got all 20 to fit comfortably on an industrial half-sheet pan).
When your bun army is shaped and sealed, set the sheet aside and allow to rise for the last time, 20 minutes.
Bake until golden, 15-20 minutes. Bask in the warming bready glow. Brush the tops with a bit of butter. Serve warm or at room temp.
f i r s t
mmm, carby! Perfect snack for the cold days. If you're into that sorta thing.
Posted by: from b e h i n d | January 14, 2010 at 11:34 PM
Honestly, it's my first time to see a burger on a bun like that! It looks cute and interesting. I don't know if I could follow your recipe right but I really would love to try! Thanks for sharing!
Posted by: Healthy Foods Blog | January 15, 2010 at 10:36 AM