Finding Solace in Ciabatta: The Therapeutic Art of Homemade Bread
In the world of baking, few things compare to the pure satisfaction of crafting your own ciabatta bread. Beyond its undeniable deliciousness, the process of creating this rustic Italian staple can be an incredibly therapeutic form of grief cooking and meditative baking. Join us on a journey where we explore the joy of making ciabatta bread and how it becomes a soothing balm for the heart and soul.
The Ingredients
Ciabatta Bread Ingredients
500 grams (about 4 cups) bread flour: The heart of your ciabatta, creating that chewy interior.
10 grams (2 teaspoons) salt: Essential for flavor and texture.
7 grams (2 teaspoons) active dry yeast: The catalyst that brings your dough to life.
375 milliliters (1.5 cups) lukewarm water: The lifeblood of your bread, binding the ingredients together.
The Therapeutic Journey
Preparing the Dough
Embracing Simplicity: Ciabatta's elegance lies in its simplicity. It's a bread born of just a few basic ingredients, allowing you to immerse yourself fully in the process.
Kneading as Catharsis: The act of kneading the dough can become a form of catharsis. As you work the dough, you're not only shaping the bread but also working through your emotions.
A Pause for Reflection: Grief can be all-consuming, but in the moments spent kneading and folding the dough, there's space for reflection, an opportunity to find solace.
The Art of Waiting
Rising as Meditation: As the dough rises, it mirrors your own journey of healing. It's a reminder that even in stillness, growth is happening.
Time for Mindfulness: Use the waiting periods in the recipe as an opportunity for mindfulness. Take a moment to breathe and appreciate the process.
The Satisfaction of Baking
Baking Your Ciabatta
Aromatherapy of the Senses: The scent of ciabatta baking in the oven is like a warm embrace, filling your space with comfort.
The Meditative Crust: As you wait for your ciabatta to develop that beautiful, rustic crust, you're participating in a meditation on patience.
Breaking Bread: Finally, when you tear into a freshly baked ciabatta, you're partaking in a simple yet profound act of nourishment, both for your body and your spirit.
Healing Through Ciabatta
Making your own ciabatta isn't just about baking bread; it's a journey of self-discovery and healing. It's a form of grief cooking that allows you to channel your emotions into a tangible creation. It's meditative baking that provides moments of solace and reflection.
So, embrace the therapeutic art of crafting ciabatta bread. Let it be a process that carries you through the stages of grief and healing, one knead and one rise at a time. In the end, when you savor that first bite of your homemade ciabatta, you'll not only taste the deliciousness but also feel the profound satisfaction of turning simple ingredients into a source of nourishment and comfort for both body and soul. Bon appétit!
Directions
Mix warm water and yeast in a bowl and set aside for five minutes for the yeast to start working.
Add the flour and salt and mix in a stand mixer fitted with a paddle and add the yeast and water mixture. You want the mixture to be just slightly thicker than a pancake batter-- it should definitely not pull together into a firm dough.
Let the mixture stand for about 15 minutes. Then turn on the stand mixer to a medium-high setting. After about six minutes, the dough will start to make a flapping sound and start rising up the sides of the bowl.*
At this point, switch the paddle for the dough hook and knead for another six to seven minutes until the dough starts pulling cleanly off the sides of the bowl. It will be smooth at this stage but still very sticky and loose.
Grease a bowl and pour the dough into it. Cover with a plastic wrap or kitchen towel and place in a warm spot, like an oven with the pilot light on.
In about 1 1/2 to 2 hours, the dough would have tripled.
Prepare a cookie sheet by lining it with parchment paper and then dusting the paper liberally with flour.
Pour the dough out of the bowl and into the center of the cookie sheet. Dust the top with flour.
Using a bench scraper, divide the dough into two pieces. Using the bench scraper and a wet hand if needed, shape the dough, tucking the irregular pieces underneath, until you have two flat logs. The logs should be about six inches apart. This is a rustic bread, and the wet dough is not going to hold a definite shape, so don't even try for a beautiful, even look. This is known as an Italian slipper bread for a reason. The baked bread will turn out absolutely gorgeous, trust me, with a translucent, lit-from-within look and those gorgeous air holes.*
Dust some more flour over the logs, then cover them with a loose kitchen towel and place in a warm spot for about an hour or until the logs are risen and all puffy-looking.
About half an hour before baking, preheat the oven to 500 degrees with a pizza stone or baking stone in place. Place an empty pan in the bottom rack while preheating, then add a cup of water to it just before you place the bread in the oven.*
Place the ciabatta loaves directly on the baking stone.
Bake for 25 minutes or until the loaves are golden-brown and the bottom sounds hollow when tapped.
Cool thoroughly on a rack.
Notes from the Baker:
My dough began to bind before six minutes so just keep an eye on it. You can always put the dough hook on a couple minutes beforehand if need be.
I didn’t have a bench scraper but my dough was very pliable and I had no issue separating it into two logs.
My oven tends to burn anything at that high of a heat. I did some research and saw various temps for other recipes so I settled on 450 degrees and hoped that I could cook it extra if need be. Spoiler alert it turn out fine.
If you don’t have a baking stone your bread will still turn out delicious.
My second round I used Bread Flour which has a different protein level than AP Flour. I also accidentally put 1/4 cup extra water into the recipe. The photos I have used for this are actually from the aforementioned second round. When I took the loaf out of the oven I thought I had royally screwed it up, but turns out, I had just made a different and altogether lovely bread. So have no fear, I am learning, you are learning, and whatever you make will probably be great!