The description of this loaf on grouprecipes.com says it all:

“This moist bread combines banana and carrots for a different take on a lowfat banana bread.”

We make banana bread. We make carrot bread. The ingredients for each are basically the same. Why not combine the two?

I heartily agree.

I’ve been experimenting with healthy bread recipes that Mr. Bread Maiden and I can enjoy, but can also double as teething biscuits for Little Bread Baby.

My first recipe was the Crunchy Teething Biscuit Recipe.

I must not have baked it for long enough, because by the time it had fully cooled, it had sunken in the middle and was still quite wet and mushy.

Even so, with the second baking, they firmed up and LBB loved them. I even made little french toast sticks with them.

So this time around, I picked just a regular bread recipe. This One.

I had carrots and bananas on hand, and made quick work grating an apple for the applesauce.

Then I added the two eggs to comprise the wet ingredients.

Mix up the wet ingredients.

Now on to the dry ingredients.

Oops! What is that baking powder doing in the picture? I never used baking powder.

There, that’s better.

Mix up two cups flour and one cup of sugar. I did one cup each of Whole Wheat and AP flour. Next time I think I’ll cut way down on the sugar.

For some fun, I threw in some freshly-grated nutmeg.

Whisk the flour, sugar and nutmeg together with the salt and baking soda.

Now bring the wet ingredients and the dry ingredients side by side.

And mix the dry into the wet, a little at a time, with a spoon. Don’t stir too much!

Now pour into a greased bread pan and pop in a 350 degree oven for about an hour.

Pull it out and let it cool.

Yummy.

But you aren’t done yet!

Once the loaf is completely cool, slice it into 1-inch-thick slices.

Then divide each slice into thirds.

Place the pieces onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

Bake until they are a little dry and crispy, about 20-30 minutes.

Once they are cool, enjoy! These taste really good (probably because of all the sugar). LBB ate one already and loved it.

You can really do this with any bread. Just slice it already-baked bread and bake at 350 until it has the consistency of biscotti.

What, you didn’t know biscotti just means “twice-baked?”

Maybe if I call these “biscotti” instead of “teething biscuits” my baby will become a little foodie.

Or not.

The Arlington County Fair is an annual summer tradition for Mr. Bread Maiden’s family. Every year I have known them, they’ve gone for the great fair food and a little light-hearted competition.

Mr. Bread Maiden’s mother, my mother-in-law, aka Slow Learner, has for the past few years submitted various homemade confections like bread and jam, as well as home-grown vegetables to be judged. However, until this year I’ve been in Williamsburg, or Texas, or Argentina, or just busy, or suffering from terrible morning sickness, all of which prevented me from entering my bread in the competition.

That all changed this year, when I finally decided enough was enough. I was going to get off the sidelines and participate.

I had to strategize.

Over the course of this blog, I’ve documented many different types of bread. But what was attractive and tasty enough to submit?

I decided that I would submit my tried-and-true breads: my sourdough,

honey whole wheat,

and kugelhopf au lard (bacon bread).

I had the plan of making four loaves of each type of bread, and picking the prettiest loaf to submit. But in hindsight that was just too much work for my first competition.

The way it works is that each class (such as yeast bread, whole wheat bread, specialty bread, etc.) has a first and second prize winner, then the top winner of each category is in the running for a category-level prize, such as reserve champion and champion. Those champions are in the running for a department-level prize, the grand champion and grand reserve champion.

Here’s how I did.

I won two first place class ribbons and one second place class ribbon. And the breads that won each ribbon:

I was please at the results. And that second place ribbon? I was happy to relinquish first place to my mother-in-law, Slow Learner! I can attest that her whole wheat was lovely and delicious.

What I really liked about the judging was that they left comments. I will definitely keep those in mind when I enter bread next year.

If you can’t read them, from left to right they say:

Sourdough: Nice presentation and texture, light, slightly undercooked?

Kugelhopf au Lard: Interesting Loaf. Done well- creative.

Honey Whole Wheat: Good appearance, aroma, flavor, liked honey-wheat flavor, good texture. Perhaps a little under-cooked (little doughy).

Wait a second.

Hold the phone.

Close-up on the sourdough.

Now, close-up on the comments section.

I was almost reserve champion??

Ah well. Maybe next year.

Friends, I’m really excited about this one.

For the past few months, I’ve been making loaf upon loaf of 1-2-3 sourdough.

It’s tasty and extremely convenient. All you do is get the starter going, mix the starter with flour, water and salt, stretch and fold once, shape, and bake. Super easy.

But sometimes you want a bread with more substance. Sometimes you need that nutty whole wheat goodness.

Which (not to sound like an ad) is when I reach for Peter Reinhart’s Whole Grain Breads book.

I was interested to learn this week that a bunch of bloggers are going to be working through Peter Reinhart’s Whole Grain Breads, baking and posting about each recipe.

In that spirit, I flipped past the multigrain struan, basic whole wheat, transitional wheat, and honey wheat that are favorites in our house. I wanted to try something different.

So when I stumbled upon the whole wheat challah, I figured I would try it out.

I mixed up the biga and soaker the night before.

What makes this bread a challah is the use of one egg and four egg yolks in the soaker!

The next morning I placed the soaker on top of the biga and used my pastry cutter to cut it into small pieces.

then I added the other ingredients.

The great thing about Whole Grain Breads is that it’s a book about a single technique. All the recipes follow from that technique. So once you get it, then the recipes get a sort of rhythm.

As I was making this dough, I could anticipate the next step and knew what it was supposed to look like in each stage of the process.

This time, I chopped the dough into three sections after the first rise in anticipation of making a challah braid. It could just as easily be shaped into a boule or baked in a loaf pan.

After the second rise I brushed the loaf with egg wash and put in the oven.

I can’t believe I didn’t take a picture of the finished product!

But the amazing thing wasn’t how it looked.

It sliced like an absolute dream. So soft. And for taste buds that had been getting AP flour loaves with just a touch of whole wheat flour thrown in, the flavor of the whole wheat challah was gloriously dense and satisfying.

I will definitely be making this recipe again. And I think I’ll try some of the other recipes in Whole Grain Breads too.

It is funny that a starter is also called a ‘Mother,’ isn’t it?

Why do you think that is?

Let’s try and figure it out, shall we?

Ok, how about this:

Mothers are like starters because they “rise to the occasion!” Blech, moving on.

Mothers are like starters because they provide the building block of the staff of life!

Mothers are like starters because they both materialize from bacteria in the air falling into a culture of flour and water!

Um, seriously?

Mothers are like starters because when you add flour, water, and salt to a Mother and then bake it on high heat it turns into a Baby!

This is starting to get really demented.

Mothers are like starters because when you cut them, they look pretty!

Wow.

Mothers are like starters because you can keep them in the refrigerator indefinitely, then when you need them all you have to do is take them out, feed them, and they’re good to go!

I think we’re done here.

Let’s just say Mothers are like starters because they add a little something special to everything they do.

Happy Mother’s Day, everyone!

Even though this is ostensibly a food blog, Bread Maiden will try to spare her readers any overworked bread-baby, baby-as-bread or bread-as-baby metaphors.

As some of you are aware, Bread Maiden and Mr. Bread Maiden welcomed a perfect little boy into our lives on December 25, 2010. The past two months have been hectic and life-changing, to say the least.

I don’t want to say that it’s been the hardest for me, since Mr. Bread Maiden has been amazing. But I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that the first few weeks were, in one word, traumatic.

Before I give my reasons why it was traumatic, I do want to back up and list the reasons it was NOT traumatic.

First, I was fortunate to have a wonderful birth experience; it was everything I could possibly want and more. I still marvel on it.

It was definitely hard work, and painful, and all those things you already know.

But it was so much more, too- peaceful, and loving, and my husband and I bonded and worked together as a team in ways that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Second, I was fortunate to have a wonderful support system in place- my family, my husband’s family, extended family, and dear friends, who fed us, rocked the baby to sleep, changed diapers, cleaned the house, forced us to get some fresh air, and in general made the recovery possible.

That said, the adjustment to being parents is no small thing.

The morning we brought Little Bread Baby home with us, we put him between us on our bed and just stared at him, not fully believing he was real.

Even with the perfect birth experience and amazing support, you give birth and suddenly have this little person in your arms and he’s crying and you don’t know what he could possibly need.

Then it dawns on you.

He needs YOU.

And he will need YOU for the rest of your life. And when he looks at you, he sees MOMMY.

Which is totally different from how you see yourself when you look in the mirror.

And that translates, at least initially, into round-the-clock feedings that follow no discernible schedule, suddenly having to remember when the last diaper was changed, and being tied to the chair or bed while he’s eating, unable to grab yourself something to eat or a glass of water.

Well, you could, but that would involve moving out of the comfortable position you are in now, and risking waking the baby up, and frankly it’s just too much work.

When you try to take a minute-long shower, he screams. When you want to get dressed, he screams. When he’s calm and you decide to take a walk with him and get the moby wrap all wrapped and get his jacket and hat on and your shoes and jacket on, then he decides he’s hungry and screams and you have to take it all back off again. What happened to those supposedly 16 hours a day he’s supposed to sleep?

His dependence on you makes you dependent on others. Suddenly you can’t bathe or eat or drink without someone else taking over baby duties or getting it for you. And while you’re feeding him, you’re looking around and making a mental list of everything that needs to be done- sweep the floor, do the dishes, run errands— that you can’t do.

Because you have a baby and that baby is ALWAYS hungry.

And everyone always says to sleep when the baby sleeps but how can you do that when there are dishes to do and you haven’t checked e-mail in three days and you desperately need a shower?

But the weeks pass. And one day you are able to take a shower. And a few weeks later you learn how to nurse him on a pillow on your lap so you can check e-mail.

Then, one glorious day, he takes a nap in his swing for one. whole. hour. And so you do the only thing you can do— bake.

And so you pull out Peter Reinhart’s amazing biscuit recipe.

And you throw together your flour, water, salt and active starter from your MIL and get two loaves of sourdough rising on the table.

The feeling of digging your hands into the dough, letting it set and then molding it into a boule, is so familiar, even though it’s been so long. It’s like returning to a past life, an echo of the way things were before.

And you get some dishes done.

And you write some thank-you notes.

And you check in on the baby and notice his little dimples as he’s smiling in his sleep, and his little nose reminds you of your nose and his mouth looks like your husband’s, and you are full of love for this little baby, love that has slowly grown since his birth as you’ve gotten to know him, and seen him grow bigger and stronger and more alert.

You realize he’s woken up, so you put the half-finished biscuit dough in the freezer, and pick him up out of the swing. Rocking him in your arms, it’s not long before you’ve soothed him back to sleep.

And you know everything will be ok. You aren’t done adjusting to the new normal, but you’re able to accept it for what it is.

And it is wonderful.

The Bread Maiden is confident enough to admit when things go wrong.

Lovely.

This is one of those times. But don’t worry; this story has a happy ending.

To begin with, some background:

Lately Mr. Bread Maiden has been experimenting with different alcoholic libations, supplying Bread Maiden with different kinds of yeast leading to different flavors in her bread.

The carboy on the left is mead, a type of beer made from fermented honey. Mr. Bread Maiden used something called “lager yeast,” or “champagne yeast.”

According to Wikipedia, lagers are made with Saccharomyces pastorianus yeast, a close relative of Saccharomyces cerevisiae. It is a slow-acting yeast.

Once the mead was decanted into beer bottles, I took some of the drudges on the bottom and mixed them with flour and water to form a starter.

Then I waited.

And waited.

Nothing happened.

I twice attempted to revive the starter, dumping half and feeding it once a day. It made no difference. The slow-acting lager yeast was even slower than Bread Maiden had anticipated.

Unlike the monks who first brewed lagers, Bread Maiden is able to rely on modern conveniences to speed the process.

Commercial yeast (horrors!) was finally added on day three and the starter was combined with AP flour and water in a 1-2-3 ratio to form a nice loaf.

So it turns out lager yeast doesn’t work well in bread. At least, not as well as ale yeast, and not as a stand-alone rising agent. Still, I could detect a slight honey flavor, and the coloring was lovely.

Also, if you missed it, scroll back up to the last picture. I was busy and let Mr. Bread Maiden score the loaf for me. He added his own flourish to the top.

While not a total failure, my experience with lager yeast demonstrates the need in bread-making for flexibility and willingness to experiment to see what works.

Bread Maiden apologizes for her long hiatus from blogging. So much has happened in the past six months and she hopes that as the dust settles she will post a little more often.

Bread around the Bread Maiden household has been pretty routine- I’ve gotten into the habit of making my standard 1-2-3 sourdough, sometimes mixing it up with a wheat or multigrain loaf. But while those are great breakfast breads, they aren’t very exciting.

However, the bread I am telling you about now IS kind of exciting.

But I need to provide some background first.

Since moving back to the DC area from Austin (big change #1), Mr. Bread Maiden has been canning, preserving, and fermenting like crazy.

This is Mr. Bread Maiden fermenting mead. What is mead? This is mead.

Crazy, huh?

Here is a picture of mead on the left, and hard cider on the right.

Cider is where I come in.

As you may remember from previous posts, yeast is used in many things, and can come in many forms.

And yeast that has been used in beer or other fermented drinks can be used in bread as well, after some prep work. Once the fermentation process is complete, the yeast settles on the bottom of the vessel. After the beer has been transferred from the carboy to bottles, the leftover yeast can be collected and stored, as it is here in the top tupperware.

Here is a picture of a pure beer yeast starter (on the right) and a starter that has been fed and discarded a few times (on the left).

This week Mr. Bread Maiden bottled his cider and had cider yeast left over. I checked online to see if anyone had heard of using cider yeast in bread. I found this but nothing else.

So I decided to give it a try.

I threw a few tablespoons of the cider yeast into a glass jar and mixed in 100g of all-purpose flour and 75g of water. Then I left it to rise overnight, discarded most of it, fed it again, and waited another night.

By this time it was quite lively.

I threw it into my 1-2-3 bread.

That is where it sits now. Given the bubbliness of the starter, I’m confident that it will rise, at the very least.

I guess I should probably update when I actually bake this thing.

Meanwhile, I have the pleasure to report our Big Change #2:

We are expecting a Baby Bread Maiden in early 2011!

**UPDATE**

Ok, and we’re back with the results of the cider bread.

This is a picture of the bread rising after a few hours and one stretch-and-fold.

You can see more of the rise here:

The bread was divided into two loaves for the final rise.

I threw my dutch oven into the oven and preheated it at 450 degrees. Then I baked the loaves one at a time after scoring them in my usual pattern. I baked them for 30 minutes with the dutch oven lid on, then 15 minutes with the lid off.

Here is what came out of the oven:

This is one damn beautiful loaf.

But how does it compare to a normal 1-2-3 sourdough loaf in terms of color, oven spring, holey interior, and taste?

COLOR

Comparing the cider starter loaf on the left and normal sourdough on the right, the color was about identical.

OVEN SPRING

Once again, the cider loaf and the normal loaf were about the same size and shape.

HOLEY INTERIOR

No real difference here. The holes in the loaves are about the same in size and frequency.

TASTE

No, this isn’t a picture of the cider loaf. But you can’t go too long on a blog entry without a picture.

The taste was really the only difference Mr. Bread Maiden and I could identify. While the cider loaf came out of the oven with a distinctive “sharp” smell, it had a milder taste than my normal sourdough.

Bread Maiden’s parents, who tend to not like very sour sourdough, really liked the cider loaf.

This taste difference might not be directly a consequence of using cider vs. regular wild yeast starter. It could have more to do with the fact that the cider starter was much younger than my normal starter, and that I started the loaf in the morning and baked it the same night, instead of letting it go for longer fermenting time in the fridge.

So, what’s the verdict? I’m not sure if I’m going to keep the cider starter after my grand cider bread experiment. It’s enough just to keep one starter going, much less two. And the cider starter may get more intense over time, which makes the taste difference less of an issue.

If you like the idea of experimenting with other types of yeast in your bread but don’t have cider yeast, don’t despair. There are TONS of other yeasts, including yeast from fruit! Check out this very helpful website.