Our Brooklyn son called a few weeks ago and thanked me for the flowers. I was relatively sure I had not sent them flowers (though Farmgirl Flowers is an online favorite of the family and for a minute I thought I had unintentionally clicked SEND on their site). When I confessed that the flowers had not come from me, he said “FLOURS, mom, not flowers!”

Farmgirl Flowers
Ah, yes, I do remember resupplying his sourdough baking needs after much online searching had resulted in finding some King Arthur Unbleached Flour. Who could have envisioned the day when we were all desperate to find yeast or flour? And bread-baking became a national past time? And someone was delighted to receive a delivery of 10 pounds of various flours (with only a $6 shipping fee!)?
And could I have ever imagined my son and husband competing to see who could make the best sourdough bread? I am the family bread-baker. Or at least I was.

Failed! Both as a Bread Baker and as a Kitchen Cleaner but a Winner! – at finding and buying every imaginable flour online and having it shipped!
I guess I’m the sweet bread maker. I’m great at Stollen, and my grandmother’s Cinnamon Bread, and even Sticky Buns. But I’ve failed miserably these past few weeks at each attempt to make any kind of a rustic bread.
I started by conducting a lengthy online search for a seeded sourdough bread recipe. When I thought I’d found the perfect one (123 great reviews!!!!), I used some of Andy’s sour dough starter and forged ahead. You can see the result below.
Not wanting to be a quitter, I found another perfect recipe – this time using packaged yeast. Obviously, that had been my problem. This time the seeds wouldn’t stick, the loaves wouldn’t hold their shape before baking, and the acrid smell I got 5 minutes after I put them in the oven was from one of the loaves which had expanded so much that it was embedded in the side oven rack holders where it was not only still swelling but was now burning. Using a knife to jab at the bread like a crazy woman, I finally separated the scorched piece from the loaf and retrieved it from the 425 degree oven. It wasn’t pretty. And I found myself in serious disagreement with the bread-making-love from the still-fascinating MFK Fisher, who wrote this in 1942:
“Perhaps this war will make it simpler for us to go back to some of the old ways we knew before we came over to this land and made the Big Money. Perhaps, even, we will remember how to make good bread again.
It does not cost much. It is pleasant: one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with peace, and the house filled with one of the world’s sweetest smells. But it takes a lot of time. If you can find that, the rest is easy. And if you cannot rightly find it, make it, for probably there is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel, that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.”
― M.F.K. Fisher, How to Cook a Wolf (and do check out this recent piece from “Vox” about how Fisher’s writing can help us through this pandemic)

Note: the burnt-to-a-crisp end had been cut off by the time this photo was taken.
So I’m going back to the basics. When our daughter, Sara, was at Peter Kump’s Cooking School in NYC in 1997, Nick Malgieri taught them some Italian basics. This recipe has long been one of our go-to’s. It may not “leave me filled with peace,” but at least I don’t need follow-up therapy. Plus, it’s simple and quickly put-together.

Nick Malgieri’s Focaccia (Note #2: I ripped off a corner piece for a quick taste)
Nick Malgieri's Focaccia
- 3 1/4 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
- 1 T Diamond kosher salt
- 1 envelope active dry yeast (2 1/4 tsp)
- 6 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- a little Diamond kosher salt to sprinkle on top
Suggested variations and toppings – to add before baking: Rosemary, 2-3 Tablespoons, either stemmed or chopped, can be sprinkled on top or incorporated into the dough. A handful of pitted black or green olives can be tossed on the top. A cup of grated parmesan cheese and 1 tsp of ground black pepper can be mixed into the dough. Or spread very-thin slices of a red onion on top. If you happen to have bagel seasoning, sprinkle some of it on top!
Oil one 9×13 baking pan with 1 1/2 T of the olive oil.
Measure flour and salt into a mixing bowl and stir well to combine.
Measure 1 1/3 cups warm tap water into a bowl (the bowl of a stand mixer, if you have one) and whisk in the yeast, then 3 tablespoons of the oil. With a rubber spatula or wooden spoon, stir the yeast mixture into the flour mixture until all the flour is evenly moistened, then mix for 5 minutes using the dough attachment on the stand mixer, or knead the dough by hand for 3 or 4 minutes, if not using the mixer.
Cover bowl with plastic wrap and allow to rise at room temperature until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
Put the dough on the baking pan and pat and press the dough to fill the pan almost completely. If the dough resists, wait a few minutes and continue. (note from Ann: I actually like to treat the dough like a pizza dough here and lift it up out of the pan, and let it dangle and stretch out).With a fingertip, make impressions in the dough at 2-inch intervals. Use a pastry brush to spread the remaining 1 1/2 T of oil. on top of the dough. Sprinkle with the kosher salt.
Cover the dough with a piece of plastic wrap and allow the dough to rise again until doubled in bulk, about 45 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 450 degrees.
When dough has risen, bake until deep golden, about 25 minutes.
Place the pan on a rack to cool. Or carefully loosen the focaccia and remove from the pan to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature in narrow slices, or cut into squares and split horizontally for sandwiches. Freeze whatever is not used up the first or second day.
Hahahaha. We, at BigLittleMeals.com, tend to not publicize the “tastes like shit” remark. We have standards.
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Love it! Surprised you didn’t share the recipe for the “Shit Bread” 😂
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In the 80’s, I worked for North Point Press, a small literary press in Berkeley, that was one of MFK Fisher’s publishers. I confess to never having heard of her until I worked there, but, once introduced, fell in love with her writing. There were many highlights while working at North Point – some lowlights as well – but one of my favorites was our annual staff picnic at Mary Frances’ house in Glen Ellen. She supplied the house and we brought the food. I always brought baguettes from The Bread Garden in Berkeley, a fabulous bakery. Baguettes and sweet butter was my contribution. That always seemed to please her.
We moved to Sonoma County in the late 80’s and in 1992, we opened Artisan Bakers, in the town of Sonoma. My son, Craig, had just graduated from the California Culinary Academy in SF, and had fallen in love with baking while doing an internship at Grace Baking. We decided to open a bakery. To be honest we didn’t even know if he could bake. I wanted to have a broadside printed to commemorate the opening of the bakery, and, because of my association with Mary Frances, I wanted to find an appropriate quote of hers to use. After much searching, I came up with the perfect one: “Perhaps, even, we will remember to make good bread again.” So interesting that you discovered it as well. We have a framed copy of the broadside in our house. Next time you visit, we will show it to you.
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Sharon – that’s so cool! I had no idea. We’ll look forward to seeing the quote at your home – and hope it’s sooner rather than later!
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I love how 2020 she was with her comparison to yoga and meditation!
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