The Baking Life: It's All About the Hat

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Well, I got a part-time baking job. The place I work at is Le Succes, a bonafide French bakery located on Staples just south of the Saratoga intersection. I just couldn't stay away from the flour, I guess.

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I hadn't realized this when I chose this picture for the blog, but the small hat makes my head look out of place, sort of like the kids on Weezer's 'I Want You To' video. I don't handle customer service, so I don't get an opportunity to freak anyone out.

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The owners Daniel and Alicia Louis are a lovely couple. As far as production goes, Daniel is the meat and bones of the operation, though Alicia does do quite a lot when she's on. When Alicia arrives to work, Daniel calls her "babe" and usually tries to give her a kiss and a squeeze. It's very easy to work for a happy pair.

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I primarily work with Daniel, though I have on occasion taken notes from Alicia and another employee at the bakery. I handle baguettes, batards, and shorter loaves of French bread. I shape a few boules with Daniel (he doesn't yet trust me shaping all of them), and usually do a few roll-outs of either croissant or danish. Unlike my former baking job, I am working without break the entire time (though I do squeeze in lunch).

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Every employee wears the uniform, owners included. The hat, direct from France, is part of it, as well as a Le Succes shirt and plain white apron (in the picture, I'm just wearing the hat). Daniel complained to me that when he and Alicia went to France last year that they couldn't find any hats. The way he said it, you would've thought the whole country had sold out.

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I'm getting paid crap, which is okay for the time being. I'm learning how to make several pastries, as well as mastering various shaping techniques. Daniel is an extremely strict teacher, making sure I gather up unused flour and getting the details of this job just right. He's a sort of Miyagi-san. He's fair, so I go along with it.

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There are so many related tales, so I'll save them for another post. I work Wednesdays and Thursdays, so drop on by if you want to say 'hi.'

The Baking Life: Flour Power

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One of my many jobs in the past several years has been baker (thanks, UT English degree!). I was lucky to get a slot at Sweetgrass Bakery in Helena, Montana with no inside contacts (I'm told that three members of the same family are currently working there.). They taught me the basics of shaping dough, which is surprisingly tricky at first, and how to bake a variety of bread using unreliable ovens. Among the many highlights of working there were dozens of interesting conversations, a connection to the town locals, and a story I'll have for the rest of my life concerning Montana celebrity Ted "The Unabomber" Kaczynski.

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I have since made lots of baked goods on my own. I frequently make croissants and danish, but I have also made loaves of bread, cookies, and miscellaneous treats.

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Tonight, I botched some French baguettes. I'd take a picture, but instead I'll focus on the scene of the crime: the flour jar.

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This jar has been in use for what seems like my entire life. It's hosted cookies mainly, but when we have a surplus of flour and a scarcity of cookies, you can find it filled with the former. Oh, it's probably not a great idea to have a glass container, but until we break it, we're going to use it.

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Tonight the flour jar oversaw my tortuous project. I really don't have any good excuse for messing up, though I was trying a few different things. First, mixing French dough is the very first thing the good folks at Sweetgrass teach a newcomer. Sure, the newbies screw it up for a few months, not realizing that the morning crew spends a commensurate amount of time cursing their very existence, but they eventually get it right, or at least okay.

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Well, one thing I tried was mixing active dry yeast with weak wet yeast. This shouldn't matter at all, but I mention it for accuracy. I added warm water at first to active the dry, then added lots of cold water.

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Then I don't think I added enough flour, as I was shooting for the wet end of okay. You see, I'm experimenting not only with doughs but with my family's mixer. It doesn't touch the bottom of the bowl, so I have in the past added too much flour. I swear, you can't win in my house.

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Finally, I spaced out on the rising process. That is, I let it rise too much and dry out. Yes, I did this.

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The thing that's great about a bakery is how many different projects you can have going at one time. They all require you to stay in or near the kitchen.

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At home, I don't want to stay put for the requisite amount of time to let something rise and wander away, usually to the demise of the bread. I used a timer in this case but ballparked too high.

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Double finally, I burned one tray of bread and did okay on another. The stuff did NOT turn out like French bread AT ALL, but it didn't taste half bad with butter. The burnt loaves will go to the birds, and my dad and I will eat off these half survivors. C'est la vie.