Having set your sponge over night, or, if you bake late in the
afternoon, early in the morning, sift dry flour into a deep bread-tray,
and strew a few spoonfuls of fine salt over it. The question of the
quantity of flour is a delicate one, requiring judgment and experience.
Various brands of flour are so unequal with respect to the quantity
of gluten they contain, that it is impossible to give any invariable
rule on this subject. It will be safe, however, to sift two quarts and
a pint, if you have set the potato-sponge; two quarts for the plain.
This will make two good-sized loaves. Make a hole in the middle of the
heap, pour in the risen sponge (which should be very light and seamed
in many places on the top), and work down the flour into it with your
hands. If too soft, add more flour. If you can mould it at all, it is
not too soft. If stiff, rinse out the bowl in which the sponge was set
with a little lukewarm water, and work this in. When you have it in
manageable shape, begin to knead. Work the mass into a ball—your hands
having been well floured from the first; detach it from the tray, and
lift it in your left hand, while you sprinkle flour with the right
thickly over the bottom and sides of the tray. Toss back the ball
into this, and knead hard—always toward the centre of the mass, which
should be repeatedly turned over and around, that every portion may be
manipulated. Brisk and long kneading makes the pores fine and regular.
Gaping holes of diverse sizes are an unerring tell-tale of a careless
cook. Spend at least twenty minutes—half an hour is better—in this kind
of useful gymnastics. It is grand exercise for arms and chest. This
done, work the dough into a shapely ball in the centre of the tray,
sprinkle flour over the top; throw a cloth over all and leave it on the
kitchen-table to rise, taking care it is not in a draught of cold air.
In summer, it will rise in four or five hours—in winter, six are often
necessary. It should come up steadily until it at least trebles its
original bulk and the floured surface cracks all over. Knead again for
ten or fifteen minutes. Then, divide it into as many parts as you wish
loaves, and put these in well-greased pans for the final rising. In a
large household baking, it is customary to mould the dough into oblong
rolls, three or four, according to the number of loaves you desire,
and to lay these close together in one large pan. The second kneading
is done upon a floured board, and should be thorough as the first, the
dough being continually shifted and turned. Set the pans in a warm
place for an hour longer, with a cloth thrown over them to keep out the
air and dust. Then bake, heeding the directions set down in the article
upon bread in general. If your ovens are in good condition, one hour
should bake the above quantity of bread. But here again experience must
be your guide. Note carefully for yourself how long a time is required
for your first successful baking, as also how much dry flour you have
worked into your sponge, and let these data regulate future action. I
have known a variation of two quarts in a large baking, over the usual
measure of flour. I need not tell you that you had better shun a brand
that requires such an excessive quantity to bring the dough to the
right consistency. It is neither nutritious nor economical. When you
make out the loaves, prick the top with the fork.
Do not make your first baking too large. Practice is requisite to
the management of an unwieldy mass of dough. Let your trial-loaf be
with say half the quantity of sponge and flour I have set down, and
increase these as skill and occasion require, carefully preserving the
proportions. Seven or eight quarts of flour will be needed for the
semi-weekly baking of a family of moderate size.
If I have seemed needlessly minute in the directions I have laid down,
it is because I wish to be a guide, not a betrayer, and because I am
deeply impressed with the worth of such advice as may tend to diminish
the number of those who know not for themselves the comfort and delight
of eating from day to day, and year to year, good family bread.