Apparently, it’s been a month since I last told you about this beautiful blueberry focaccia. A month. And no, I’m not going to ramble on how time flies; I’ve done that too much in the past already. Not that I don’t like to complain – you know I do; but well, I’m just too tired and unhappy.

Or at least I was too tired and unhappy until it all happened.

You see, those past few weeks of unusual silence had a reason. I’m physically exhausted, and an emotional wreck. I barely sleep. I don’t eat how I should. I can’t find comfort anywhere or in anyone. I’m restless, always on the lookout for new experiences to share, new sensations to explore, new, new new.

Every morning I wake up after a couple of hours of sleep only to remember what a long day I’ll find on my path. Daily internship. Writing my thesis. Then going back home. Let the fun begin. I create. Or less fancily – and perhaps more appropriately – I make things.

The creative process is part of me. I don’t care about the end result. What matters to me is how you get it. Beautiful.

This is terrific. Exciting. And totally fulfilling. But also very shattering. Especially when I haven’t had the chance to have a few days off since last Christmas. When I know I’ll have to wake up at 3:30am every morning for a year. No break.

And I still don’t know what I want to do next.

Or more exactly, I know what I want, but also feel like it’s never going to happen (St Martin’s school of design, I shall tell you goodbye before we even met).

I’m scared.

What do I want to be? Product developer. Certainly. Pastry chef. Possibly. Making my dream come true: being the owner of a pastry shop meets bakery meets book store meets cooking school. Hopefully.

So many doubts. And only one thing to be certain about: this focaccia is out of this world. Go and make it before it’s too late and blueberries disappear for another long year full of expectations, worries and excitement.

Blueberry focaccia
Adapted from Dan Lepard.

When I was younger, I remember my dad talking about how his grand father would make him olive oil bread topped with freshly cut apricot halves and baked until the flavours blend beautifully.
And well, since I had some blueberries to use (OK, I needed an excuse for not eating that whole tub); I thought I should give it a try.

The base recipe is just from Dan, as you may have guessed. So good it makes for the most perfect brunch or snack.

You could also replace the oil with softened butter if you feel like the olive flavour might be overpowering (I loved it, but it’s all a matter of taste).

I had high hope about 2008. See, a little more than a week ago, things couldn’t have been more perfect. Indeed, potatoes were finally to be celebrated through the immensely important international year of potato; which, needless to say, kept me in a state of ecstasy.
That, until my laptop crashed, leaving thousand of pictures and a miserable me behind. Days passed by and when I eventually felt brave enough to start eating again, I found them, sitting in a little basket. They sure had some shoots pointing through, but still looked quite perfect to me. The glorious potatoes.

Not that you care, but last night, I had mashed potatoes with a spoonful of confit d’oignons stirred in and a fried egg on top of an English muffin. And it was good. The mashed potatoes were soft and creamy; just what you would expect from something after which a year was named. The confit d’oignons brought a nice contrast – both taste and texture wise. The fried egg was cooked to perfection: the oozing yolk sat on top of the white that had crispy golden-brown edges. And there, almost hidden underneath and totally unpretentiously, laid the apple cider vinegar English muffin.
I hear you coming though. Oh yes, I do. What’s so special about that English muffin? Show me the potatoes, you teaser.

And well, I might, in the future, but those little fluffy breads, the ones you see above and below and, ahem, all over foodbeam right now, they’re out of this world. The taste is fantastic, so is the texture. Yeah, I bit into one. Just to check you know. But then I kept biting and just when I though it couldn’t get any better I found that gorgeous pocket of air.

As you might have guessed, Dan Lepard is the guy behind all this. And as usual, he clearly rocked it.

Apple cider vinegar English muffins
Adapted from Dan Lepard’s The Guardian ‘s guide to baking

I’ve always been a big English muffins buyer as nothing quite appeals to me as much on Sunday mornings as a toasted English muffin does. However, since I’ve discovered how to make these at home, I’ve never looked back.
The dough relies on both apple cider vinegar and live yogurt as souring agents. Thus, the finished muffins have a pleasing sour flavour.

The dough, although pretty soft, was fun to work with and felt really smooth after a couple of kneads and folds.
As with most Dan’s recipes, you are required to knead the dough very gently three times at 10-minute intervals, and to fold twice it during the proofing time (at 40-minute interval). If you have no idea of what I’m talking about you can go and check there, as the process I used for making foccacia is sensibly similar.

By now, you guys should be aware that to me, Dan Lepard is to bread-making what Pierre Hermé is to pastry. My icon and absolute role model.
I never really used to make bread, except for the occasional pizza dough; but since I’ve discovered Dan’s take on bread making I’ve literally been unstoppable. Fresh yeast has become a staple in my fridge and I’m known to run to the grocery store as soon as my flour stock approaches 2kg.

So far, I had only made white loafs or buns; to which I regularly added ingredients such as herbed butters or cheese or mashed potatoes.
However, I needed a focaccia for the Christmas Eve dinner my sister and I were hosting. While I firstly intended to make my reliable pizza dough, only slightly wetter; I quickly moved on Dan’s recipe. And boy, I’m glad I did!
This focaccia is the best flat bread I’ve ever had and it’s a delight to make. Still, the whole process can seem a little daunting because of the different steps and resting times.
Given that I really want you to make this focaccia and bite into a crusty yet moist square of this fragrant bread, I thought it would be great if we made some together. Get your aprons ready!

Again, the mise en place is fundamental and will make you save precious time. Here, we’ll make a ferment then add water, oil, flour and salt.

For the ferment, you’ll need:
200g water at 20°C
150g flour tipo 00 (French type 45 works well too)
7g fresh yeast, finely crumbled

To which you’ll add:
150g water at 20°C
15ml olive oil, plus extra for folding
375g flour tipo 00
10g fine salt

Mix together the ingredients for the ferment in a large bowl. Cover the bowl with a cloth and leave at warm room temperature for 2 hours, giving the mixture a good stir after the first hour.
After the resting time, the mixture should be all bubbly and have doubled in size.

Whisk in the water and oil. Then mix in the flour and salt with a spoon, until roughly combined.
Cover the bowl and allow to rest for 10 minutes.

Rub your hands, the work surface and the dough with some oil and scrape the dough onto the work surface. Work the dough by gently stretching it with your right hand, keeping it in place with your left thumb. Then fold and rotate the dough. Repeat this kneading about 10 times, but make sure to stop before it starts sticking to the work surface.
Knead again twice at 10-minute intervals. The dough will change from lumpy to smooth and elastic.
Cover with a cloth and leave to rest for 40 minutes.

It’s now time to do some serious stretching and folding. This will stretch and elongate the upcoming bubbles making for big and uneven holes in the final bread.
Stretch the dough into a rectangle then fold it into thirds first in one direction then the other. Repeat this twice with 40-minute intervals.

Once you’ve stretched-folded three times, allow the dough to rest for 30 minutes before going on with the shaping.

Rub a baking tray with olive oil and place the dough onto it. Lightly flatten the dough using your fingers – it’s normal if it springs back. Cover with a cloth and leave in a warm place for 20 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 220°C. Pick the corners of the dough and stretch them out until they reach the corners of the tray. Sprinkle with a little water and some oil.
Bake for 15 minutes, then reduce the heat to 200°C and bake for a further 15 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

As you might have not guessed from yesterday non-post, I’m not ill anymore. I did spend most of the day sleeping, but the evening was put to use for some beaujolais nouveau celebration.
And what’s better with some really bad wine that some equally good bread.

I used my favourite bread recipe, which I tweaked in order to get some soft and flavourful small breads.

I divided the dough into 6 small balls, got on with one of them, while I put the other to rest, covered with a cloth.

The ball is then flattened with the palm of my hands. In the centre of that disk of lovely elastic dough, I placed a teaspoon of a mix of:
- butter
- cooked shallots
- chopped parsley
- salt and freshly ground white pepper

I really enjoyed closing the ball; it’s like a nest of pure yumminess.

There you go. I told you it was going to be quick and easy.

The final step consists in shaping the ball again so they’re all round and smooth. Proof the breads until they have doubled in size and bake as explained in the simple white bread recipe (just dust some flour on the breads before they go into the oven).

I definitely took the easy-way here, but please, people, I urge you to do the same. I know I’ve already praised Dan Lepard’s white bread last week. But well, it’s that good. And the addition of perfumed butter is fantastic. Fragrant, moist innards. Soft crumb. Crisp golden crust.
Be an easy rider. Make these petits pains.

Call me arrogant, but I’ve never considered myself lucky to live in France. To my eyes, nothing could beat the UK. I called London home and Harvey Nicks was my temple.

However, as years passed by, I started to realise that I am in fact blessed to live in such a beautiful country. And I won’t lie to you, food played a huge role.
I just find it fantastic to be able to get gorgeous produce all year round, to know where it comes from and to chat with producers. Please, don’t get me started about the awesome pâtisseries out there; so inspiring!

I wish I could change one thing though. Just one little thing: flours. Can you believe that white flour only comes in two types? 45 and 55, numbers which represent the taux de cendre [ashes content] of the flour. The higher it is, the rougher the flour is; and by rough, I mean whole (type 150 flour is whole wheat flour). Thus, a low number will indicate a high extraction rate – many particles from the hull are removed, making for a whiter, thinner flour.

Type 45 flour is commonly used for brioches, pâtes feuilletées [puff pastry] and feuilletées-levées (for croissants and pain au chocolat, just to name a few), while type 55 is great for cakes, shortcrust pastries and biscuits. Indeed, the latter is poorer in gluten and gives a short sandy texture.
But what happens when it comes to bread making? I have to admit that I’ve always had trouble finding which white flour I should use for breads.
Type 45 flour certainly sounds great because of its high gluten content although, I always feel concerned about it being to finely ground.
If only I lived I the States, where strong flour is a staple, as American wheat contains much more gluten. I’m sure you’ll love to know that at Pierre Hermé’s pâtisserie, the fine high-in-gluten flour is fittingly called corde américaine [literally, American rope]. And ordinary type 55 flour is known as tradition française [French tradition].

So far, and after many many many tries (yes, that many, believe me), I’ve found that farine type 55 is the best when used with Dan Lepard’s kneading method.

Simple white bread
Adapted from Dan Lepard’s recipe and method.

If you’re looking for a basic white bread, then this recipe is perfect for you. Not only it gets you familiar with bread making; but it also produces a consistent flavourful bread.
It is great as a base for all your crazy ideas – my garlic bread is a great example.

The kneading method is quite time-consuming, but very easy to follow. You just need to stretch and fold the dough for ten seconds. Remember: stretch and fold. That’s what kneading is about.
My other favourite tip is to throw a couple of ice cubes onto the oven rack when I start baking the bread. This will produce a moist environment that makes for a golden crispy crust.