It was not a bad week, dear friends (except for Lloyd's developing a horrible toothache that led to a root canal, poor love -- but he's feeling much better now), but it was a relatively busy one, and as much fun as it was, I'm relieved for a bit of quiet time. I did, after all, promise to share a recipe or four.
Focaccia al' olio
(makes 1 10"x 15" focaccia)
Once upon a time, I took a five-session spa cuisine avocational class at the school where I would eventually enroll in the career baking program. Our instructor was a terrific cook, teacher and writer named Bonnie Lee Black, who at the time was also teaching a five-session breadbaking class, so she and I would talk a lot of breadbaking shop as we steamed our quinoa and baked our light lemon-raspberry souffles. At the final class, she presented me with some of her favorite recipes, including a recipe for a thin focaccia made of olive oil and white wine. I am almost always made happy by a new loaf of bread, but it's a special loaf of bread that can surprise me, and this focaccia was a delightful surprise: even as I know that wonderful things can come from flour, water, salt, yeast, olive oil and white wine, I couldn't believe how wonderful this was. Unfortunately, I forgot to ask Bonnie from which book she got the recipe (she gave me a photocopy), and by the time I thought to ask her, she had joined the Peace Corps and was working in Africa. For years, I held onto the recipe, tweaking it here and there, experimenting with varying yeast levels and fermentation times, and generally driving myself to distraction wondering from where the recipe had come. Then one day, while browsing at Kitchen Arts and Letters, I happened to pick up Focaccia: Simple Breads from the Italian Oven by Carol Field. The instant I cracked it open, I noticed that the font looked familiar. Sure enough, there it was in the index: Focaccia from Genoa, the exact same recipe as the one in my now oil-and-flour-stained mimeo. The bad news is that this book is out of print; the good news is that copies can still be found on Amazon.com, as well as used bookstores and specialty stores. The variety of focaccie to be found in here is impressive: plain and elaborate, thick and thin, stuffed, savory and sweet (the Florentine orange-scented focaccia and the elderflower schiacciata are rich and gorgeous). Everything I've made from this book has been a winner, but I find myself returning to this one, the focaccia that has been a staple in our house for 10 years. (Yes, this is the one I made during Blogathon last August; if you go to my August 2005 archives and scroll down, you can see pictures of all stages from the mixing of the sponge to the pulling of the finished bread from the oven.)
Sponge
140g (1 cup, measured by dip-and-sweep method) all-purpose flour
3/4 cup lukewarm water (you may not need all of it)
1/2 tsp. instant yeast (or 3/4 tsp. active dry yeast, dissolved in a little water)*
In a medium bowl, combine flour and yeast. Add water until a stiff dough is formed. Cover and let ferment until the sponge is loose, bubbly and just beginning to pucker in on itself, about two hours.
*Carol Field's original recipe calls for 2 1/2 tsp. active dry yeast, the equivalent of a packet of dry yeast as sold in American supermarkets. This will produce a sponge that is ready to use in 1/2 hour. I like using the smaller amount of yeast and a longer fermentation time, as I think it yields a more complex taste and a better crumb. But if the thought of waiting around for a sponge is not your idea of fun, you can certainly use the full amount of yeast, and the resulting bread will still be terrific.
Final dough
sponge
1/2 cup tepid water
1/3 cup olive oil, your preference (I use an extra virgin olive oil from Crete that is dark green, peppery, flavorful and modestly priced)
1/3 cup white wine (any basic white table wine is fine)
1 tbsp. kosher salt
360g (2 1/2 cups, measured by dip-and-sweep method) all-purpose flour
(This is easiest made in a stand mixer, but if you don't have one, have no fear; although this is a soft, sticky dough, it will come together with gentle kneading. Just keep your hands and counter well-floured; give yourself plenty of room and be patient and kind, both with the dough and yourself. 
In the mixing bowl of a stand mixer, or in a large bowl, pour in the sponge. Add the olive oil, wine, water and salt and mix until the dough is broken up and the liquid is milky. Using your hands for this job works brilliantly. Add the flour in three increments, mixing with the paddle each time. When the last of the flour has been added, switch to the dough hook and knead for six minutes; by hand, it will probably take closer to 8-10 minutes. Turn the dough into a well-oiled bowl, cover and let rise until doubled. With the full amount of yeast, this should take about an hour; with less yeast, it may take 2 hours or longer. This is actually a good dough to make if you have other things to do and need to leave your house for a while. It's a forgiving dough.
When the dough has risen, knock it down gently. Leave it to rest in the bowl while you preheat your oven to 425F (Gas Mark 7) and move a rack to the center of the oven. Liberally oil a 10"x 15" sheet pan and turn the dough onto it. Stretch it to the corners. If it springs back and won't stay put, don't panic; just cover it with oiled plastic wrap, let it rest for 15 minutes and try again. Eventually the gluten will relax enough for you to stretch it further. When it is fully stretched, stipple the dough (i.e. poke it all over with your fingertips until the surface is bumpy all over), re-cover it and let it rise until it is just starting to reach over the top of the sheet pan.
When the dough is thus risen, uncover it, stipple it once again, drizzle some more olive oil over it and sprinkle it with coarse salt if it pleases you (or not, if it doesn't). Bake until it is a deep golden brown and smells like toast, about 30 - 35 minutes.
This is best on the day it's baked; it gets a bit soft on day 2, but it does re-crisp nicely in a 350-degree (Gas Mark 4) oven.
Fanny's Special Chocolate Kuchen This amazing celebration cake comes from another out-of-print book worth seeking out, Growing Up on the Chocolate Diet: A Memoir With Recipes by Lora Brody. If you are acquainted with Lora Brody via her excellent bread machine books, I recommend highly that you try to get your hands on this book (or on her other memoirs with recipes, Indulgences and Cooking with Memories). Mrs. Brody is a generous soul and a genuine hoot, and she really knows her way around chocolate. This particular recipe was once the exclusive provenance of her aunt Fanny, who used to bake it for extended family gatherings; not a Rosh Hashonah, nor Thanksgiving, nor Chanukah, nor wedding or bar mitzvah or shiveh or Fourth of July went by without Fanny's kuchen making an appearance. As Mrs. Brody tells it, Fanny would not give out the recipe for love or money, causing her female relatives to "suppress the murderous rages that were welling up in their usually gentle bosoms." Fanny managed to hold onto the secret until she was 51, when she met and married the man of her dreams. A wedding without chocolate kuchen was unthinkable; Fanny's wedding, doubly so; but how could she serve hot kuchen at her reception without arriving at her wedding ceremony in a state of dishevelment? She tried to share the recipe with her sister on the grounds that the recipe would be kept secret, but her sister knew better than to try to keep this recipe a secret from the relatives. Two days before the wedding, Fanny relented and shared the recipe with everyone; six months later, at Thanksgiving, Fanny had a brand-new secret recipe. This might seem like a lot of drama for a cake, but this is a cake worth the drama. Even before you take a bite, you know that you're in for something good, based on the aromas issuing forth from the oven. It is definitely a celebration cake, as opposed to an everyday-use cake; the ingredients are rich, and the assembly, while not complicated, is a bit time-consuming. Because my oven is small, I make two small kuchens in 9-inch cake pans, as Mrs. Brody recommends, but if you have a large-enough oven, I recommend making this as Fanny did, as a single cake baked in a 15-inch pizza pan. I also recommend using semisweet chocolate chips, but I will also confess that the first time I made this, I used Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips, not usually my first choice for milk chocolate, but they work very nicely here. Be sure to start macerating the raisins in the bourbon the day before you plan to mix the dough. Dough 1 cup raisins (I like using sultanas) 1/2 cup bourbon 1/2 cup water 1 tbsp powdered instant espresso 1 tbsp sugar 2 1/2 tsp. active dry yeast or 2 tsp. instant yeast 2 extra-large eggs 2 egg yolks 1/2 cup sour cream 1 tsp. salt 1/2 pound unsalted butter, melted 20-25 ounces all-purpose flour (4-5 cups via spoon-into-cup method) Macerate the raisins in the bourbon overnight. The next day, heat the water, dissolve the coffee in it, and cool to skin temperature. Mix the coffee, sugar and yeast in the bowl of a stand mixer, or in a large bowl if you are mixing by hand. Add the eggs, egg yolks, sour cream, salt and butter. Add four cups of the flour and mix until the dough clears the side of the bowl. You may need to add more flour, and you will need to beat for about five minutes in the stand mixer, or about eight minutes with a wooden spoon or dough whisk. Stir in the raisins. When the dough is fully mixed, cover and let rise until it has doubled in volume, about two hours. Knock the dough down, re-cover it and refrigerate it for at least four hours; it may be kept refrigerated up to three days. Streusel 2 oz. (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted 1/4 cup brown sugar 1 tbsp. cinnamon 1/2 cup ground almonds 1/2 cup all-purpose flour Mix everything together until small lumps are formed. Set aside. Filling 3 tbsp. cinnamon 1/2 cup granulated sugar 1 1/2 cups apricot jam or lekvar 3 tbsp. bourbon 1 cup chocolate chips, preferably semisweet Remove the dough from the fridge and roll it into a 16-inch circle (or two 10-inch circles). Butter your pan (or pans) and place the dough onto the pan, using your rolling pin as a guide. Crimp the edges into a 1" border. Mix the cinnamon and sugar together and sprinkle the mixture onto the dough, avoiding the border. Heat the apricot jam until just warm and slightly softened. Stir in the bourbon. Add this mix to the dough and spread up to (but not on) the border. Sprinkle the chocolate chips over the jam. Sprinkle the streusel over the chips. Cover the kuchen with buttered plastic and let rise for 30 minutes. While the kuchen is rising, place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat to 400F degrees (Gas Mark 6). When the kuchen has risen, uncover and place in the oven. Bake for 5 minutes, then turn the oven down to 350F (Gas Mark 4) and bake for an additional 40 minutes, or until crust is browned. Mrs. Brody recommends serving this hot -- and it is wonderful hot as long as you don't burn the roof of your mouth -- but I have let this cool all the way down, and it was still worth eating.
Still to come on PTMYB: More cake, a pie, some cookies...