A forum of internet bakers I occasionally haunt recently went on a “daily bread” tangent. Specifically how much does it really cost to make your own ‘everyday’ bread? The original comment gave a fair estimate of US$0.25 but then a litany of know-it-all responses began to chime in with haphazard estimates for everything from the power to run an oven to the real or implied costs of labour to comparing their own wildly different recipes. Lump in the usual chorus of millennials convinced they “don’t have enough time” or the masses caught in “it’s cheaper to buy day-old at Bob’s Discount Traders” marketing hype – both of which are usually not true and say nothing of quality – and you end up with a million opinions of what really is a simple, basic pleasure in life. Namely baking your own bread. Silly internet.
For the math obsessed corners of the web, here’s what my daily bread really costs. This morning’s example is pictured above with a small handful of rye flour included because I was in the mood.
(Canadian Dollars)
Flour @$0.60/kilo x 400g = 0.24
Yeast @$3.69/450g x 10g = 0.065
Salt @$1.00/kilo x 10g = 0.01
Sugar @1.50/kilo x 10g = 0.017
Canola Oil @$3.99/3 litres x 15 + 5ml = 0.027
Warm water x 325ml-ish (varies day-to-day) = free
Total = CDN$0.358 per loaf
* It’s winter so I don’t count running the oven for an hour since I’m cooking other things at the same time and it reduces my heating bill which would need to get paid in any event.
For those bemoaning the time it takes, I watched the clock this morning and it was less than six minutes total of me tending to things hands-on. The rises are the perfect opportunity to go do other non-bread-related things around the house. And yes, you could do three minutes in the morning and three when you got home from work later in the day if that fits your schedule better.
My method is almost by feel these days since I make it so often which brings up the idea that you simply need to get into a routine to make this part of your daily cycle. Wake up, brush teeth, start dough, feed cats, find socks, water plants, chase cats out of plants, chase cats to retrieve sock, form dough, check email, make toast from yesterday’s bread, remove cat from keyboard… you get the idea. Making bread no longer even registers as a separate task to me. It just is part of my life.
If you need the doughy details for the above list, I simply stir the ingredients together manually with a (very) sturdy spatula in the bowl of my upright mixer. This does a better job than the machine at the start. Then I walk away for several minutes to let the flour properly hydrate. When next I pass the machine I turn it on medium-low for 5-6 minutes and let the dough hook do all the heavy lifting. Scrape to gather, oil, and cover the dough ball back into the same bowl and set in a warm spot to rise an hour if I’m home. During December that means a closed oven that’s had a minute burst of heat applied. If I’m leaving the house, I cover and toss it in the fridge to slow rise – or again in cold months I’m good just leaving it on the kitchen counter for a few hours.
Once doubled-ish in size I form a loaf and plunk it into an oiled 9 x 5-inch loaf pan then park it back in that briefly warmed oven* to double in size and pillow above the rim for the traditional ‘sandwich loaf’ shape. When it’s nice and puffy I take it out and preheat the oven properly to 200C (400F) before returning to bake for a solid twenty minutes rotating midway for an even bake. I take an internal temperature at that point and ease up to 95C (203F) in additional two minute increments as necessary, usually less than 26 minutes total bake time depending on the day. Cool in the pan for ten minutes before turning out onto a rack to cool completely before cutting. Any sooner and you’ll stop the bread finishing its bake on the inside, tempting as that butter and orange marmalade may be.
* If you’re baking other things for dinner at the time, the top of your stove should get comfortably warm thanks to the vent all ovens have hidden somewhere under the hood.
