Artisan Ciabatta With Four Common Kitchen Items

Of course I would choose the first 70-degree day of 2013 to crank up my oven to 480 degrees and bake a loaf of bread. At least I had my homemade iced chai to keep me cool.

I’ve owned Baking Artisan Bread for a while now but always think to make something from it a little too late—most recipes require you to mix up the bread starter (poolish or biga, depending on your bread) and let that ferment  overnight before proceeding with the dough.

Additionally, there were more than a few bread-baking supplies specified that I didn’t have. Namely, a couche, peel, baking stone, or steam tray. Bolded is what was initially specified, followed by what I substituted:

1.     Couche: Parchment paper and a flour-coated paper towel. When the instructions called for me to put the dough on a floured couche as well as cover it with a floured couche, I put the bread on parchment paper and covered it with a paper towel I had smeared with flour.

2.     Baking stone: Cast-iron skillet. This seemed to work okay. I got this idea from the no-knead bread phenomenon that swept the food blog world a few years ago.

3.     Peel: Parchment paper on a baking sheet (book-suggested substitution). Instead of using a peel, I put the dough on parchment paper for its final proof, and when it was ready to bake, I slid that off a baking sheet directly into the skillet, so the bread stayed on the parchment paper the entire baking time. This worked pretty well to get it into the skillet without burning myself.

4.     Steam tray: 9-inch metal cake pan. I preheated this in the oven with the skillet and poured ice cubes into it when I put the bread in. Not sure how it performed, because I didn’t open the oven to see because I didn’t want to let any potential steam out.

One part of the directions gave me a little cause for improv: “Transfer each loaf onto the peel by lifting the pleat of the couche and rolling the loaf onto the peel. . . . [T]he side of the loaf that was proofing down on the flour should now be the top of the loaf . . . .”

Uh, well. That presented a bit of a problem since I wasn’t using a couche, first of all, and couldn’t figure out how to roll the loaf with my little sheet of parchment. Also, it was more square than the loaves pictured in the book, which made it harder to roll. Basically I just ended up praying that what I was about to do would work, then flipped the whole thing over as fast as I could. I’m not sure if that damaged the loaf in any way. . . .

Verdict: Not as pretty as I hoped. Maybe slightly rustically attractive. Happily for the ciabatta, I never judge anything strictly by appearance in my kitchen, and despite its looks, this ciabatta was delicious. Also, I think I’ll invest in a couche.