The Basics: Brioche

There are many recipes the Farmer’s Wife uses that transform into something else along the way. She calls them her Basics. The White Sauce. Croutons. And this, Brioche. Very rarely does it stay a simple loaf of bread. It is a base. Something to be built off of. Maybe it will become a toast, slathered with mascarpone and dusted with cocoa. Or maybe a Pudding studded with dried cherries and topped with sweet-milk cream, or a Cinnamon Roll dripping with a salted caramel and bacon glaze. But before it can become any or all of those, it must first be made and made well. A simple dough.

And this is how it’s done:

A third cup cream is warmed until it’s just cozy after which time a tablespoon of yeast is stirred in until both know each other a bit better. A room temperature egg is whisked and added to the mixture, along with a cup of unbleached flour of the all-purpose variety. This is all stirred and topped with an additional cup of the flour. Set the bowl aside and let it be for the better part of an hour. I’m serious now, leave it alone.

When the forty or fifty minutes are up, pour over it all a half cup sugar of the granulated variety, a teaspoon of non-iodine salt, and four large eggs, kept as warm as the room around you. Oh yes, and a cup of flour, the same kind as before. Mix this by hand with a wooden spoon. Yes, it has to be wooden. (Not really, use any kind of spoon you like, but it will feel a bit more like a Farm if you use a wooden spoon.) Over all this add three cups more flour and place on your mixing stand. Did I forget to tell you that you’ll be needing a stand mixer to make this? If I did, then I apologize. You will indeed need a stand mixer. There’s no Farmer alive who has the Time and Strength to kneed this dough in the right and proper way. If you feel you’re just the Farmer for the task and wish to prove me wrong, then by all means, do. I’d love to meet you and shake your hand. But for me, Time and Strength are better spent doing better things.

But I digress…

Setting the bowl in place, apply the dough hook and let all whirl away. If the dough’s a bit dry, add a dollop of warmed milk. Too soft? A skosh more flour. But if it’s just right, let it be. And you’ll know it’s just right when it comes together and begins slapping the side of the bowl in a rhythmic sort of way. Let it go on doing that for about fifteen minutes. While you’re waiting, have a cup of tea. Or better yet, get your butter ready. And this part is fun. Two sticks room temperature butter is needed. Yes, an entire cup—that’s what makes it soooo good. That and maybe the sugar. Or the cream. Oh, whichever, this dough is really, really good. Take your butter out of its wrapping and set between two sheets of plastic wrap. Now, here’s the fun part. Take your rolling pin and give it a whack. Go on. I know you’ve got it in you. Keep on smacking it until it’s smooth and creamy and about the same consistency of that dough that’s busy slapping away. And once both are ready—the slapping dough and the smoothed-out butter, you can go ahead and make the introductions. Just do it a little at a time. The dough’s a bit shy, and if you put all that butter in at once, it’s likely to fall apart. Once the two are acquainted, let them mix together for another minute or five. How will you know when it’s ready? When it starts slapping the side again. That’s when you know. Let it do that for a minute and turn the mixer off. By this point its probably needing a break, anyhow.

Butter a bowl and set your dough inside, covering it tightly with plastic wrap. Let it set in a warm place until double the size it was. I tend to stick it in my oven with the light on. This should take about two hours.

When this is done, the dough is gently deflated, and by that I mean, lightly lift and press the dough and let it fall in on itself. It is covered again with plastic wrap, only this time it’s set in the fridge overnight.

The next day, the dough is taken out of the fridge and shaped into what it will become. Look for more on that next week, but for now, a couple simple loafs are made. To do that, the dough is divided evenly into six pieces, and rolled into balls. Two loaf pans are buttered and three balls are placed into each. All is covered with a kitchen towel and set to rest until doubled, about two hours. The pans are placed in a preheated three hundred- and seventy-five-degree oven and left to bake until golden, about thirty minutes. Remove from the oven, then the pans themselves, and let rest until cool. And Do Not slice until they are, no matter how tempted you may be. These loaves may be eaten as is, or toasted and topped, as will be discussed at a later time, or made into a pudding. Again, to be discussed later. For now, just enjoy a really, really good slice of bread. With that cup of tea you never got to enjoy earlier because you were too busy giving that butter a good beat-down.