Great Harvest Bread -- An Anchorage delight

Anchorage has its share of excellent bakeries, among them Great Harvest Bread. It has the distinction of being a national franchise, with local owners Dirk Sisson and Barbara Hood bringing to fruition the high standards set across the country. Dirk spent an hour recently showing me around and describing the care and attention they pay to every aspect of their work.

Outside their bakery and store/cafe sits a bale of straw with pumpkins for the season. Inside, racks of the day's breads, and courteous staff people cutting samples to be topped with butter or honey greet customers.

Dirk and Barbara support local artists and writers, and this month their show focuses on intriguing photos by Bob Eastaugh and collages by Suzanne Dvorak.  

Bob Eastaugh photo.

Suzanne Dvorak collage.

Customers can get their breads or pastries to go, or relax in the cafe section.

Great Harvest bakes more than fifty types of bread and rolls, along with cookies, quick breads muffins, scones, pound cake, and more. Their home page lists what's fresh each day.

What makes Great Harvest unique? Besides their consistent high quality, and the great variety, their insistence on freshness adds depth to their food. They grind their own whole wheat flour fresh each day, using a hammermill set in one of the back rooms of the bakery. The wheat comes from Montana fields, blended to assure uniform performance from the grain in each batch. Dirk says that they grind only enough to use within a few days so that the oils in the kernels have no chance to grow stale or rancid.

Bins of white flour, and fresh-ground wheat flour ready for mixing. The copper pipes in the center of the bins of whole wheat flour draw away the heat created in the grinding process so that the flour stays cool enough for making dough.

Like most bakeries, even those featuring small-batch artisan loaves, Dirk uses both bakers' yeast, and his own sourdough, depending on the needs of the bread. The lower shelf of the cart holds his fermenting dough, each one marked to show where it is in the three-day process of developing as a sourdough.

This temperature probe is one of the most essential tools for good bread, Dirk says. Bread-making is a mix of science -- the exact proportions of flours, liquids, yeast, salt, sugars (Great Harvest uses small amounts of honey in their breads, in part to encourage the yeast to grow, and in part for flavor), and art -- every change in temperature of the room, moisture in the batch of flour and in the air, and a dozen other factors will change how the dough grows (develops). Dirk suggests using the temperature probe about five minutes before the estimated baking time is finished. There are various ideas about the temperature for a loaf of bread; if you are baking, check the recommendations in your recipe.

One interesting point was the order that Dirk uses to mix the dough. Because flours can vary so much in their moisture content, he measures the water first and puts that into the mixing tub. Then he adds about three-quarters of the flour specified in the recipe and begins to mix. Within a short while, he can tell by the way the dough is coming together whether it needs more flour. He adds the flour  slowly, to make sure that the dough doesn't end up too wet or dry. If the dough is a little "harder,"  than usual, he bakes it at a slightly lower temperature, but for about the same amount of time.

 Bakers test the loaves daily, and record  how long the bread was kneaded, how long the dough took to rise, how long the bread spent in the oven, and more. Standard, detailed measurements are described for each of the qualities that Great Harvest expects from its bread.

We talked for a while about the protein content of wheats. Very high-protein wheats are often considered the best for breads, but they may not have as much taste, or may be missing other desirable qualities. Mills often blend flours so that a lower-protein tastier grain combined with a higher-protein wheat gives the baker the optimum combination for reliably rising bread that is also delicious

Finished loaves cooling on racks.

Dirk Sisson and the beautiful breads that he and Barbara have been baking since 1994.

A densely-seeded loaf.

Creating Croissants at Fire Island Rustic Bakeshop

Sammy's birthday present was a class on making croissants and Danish pastries at Fire Island Rustic Bakeshop, He's just finished adding the blackberries and raspberries to a pan of cream-filled Danish pastries. 

The Danish pastries, hot from the oven. Note the ways in which they are ideal -- rich brown tones, a slight shine from the whole-egg glaze, lots and lots of flaky layers visible because they were layered and cut correctly, berries still whole and plump.

What's a delicious way to spend a Monday evening? Baking croissants and Danish pastries at Fire Island Rustic Bakeshop comes right at the top of the list. Ten people assembled on October 19 to learn the secrets of Anchorage's best croissants. Rachel Saul taught the class, with April and Lisa assisting. The pay-off, after three hours on our feet, was boxes full of croissants that we'd shaped and baked -- traditional, chocolate-filled, ham and cheese -- and Danish pastries with cream cheese or frangipane and berries.

A perfect chocolate croissant, with crisp egg-glazed crust, too many layers to count, and plenty of chocolate.

There are many magical treats wrapped in wheat flour. One of the most mysterious is the combination of a yeast dough and pure butter, layered together in a "laminated" pastry. It's also called Viennoiserie dough, and is rich with eggs and sugar.Croissants, Danish pastries (which in Denmark are called Viennese bread), and brioches are examples. All are made from a thin slab of butter, wrapped in dough, then folded and rolled, again and again, to make dozens of fine layers. When the pastries are baked, the water in the butter turns to steam and keeps the layers separate. The proteins in the flour and butter, and the egg glaze all combine to create the crisp brown crust.

April pouring drinks for us before class starts.

As we came into the warm bakery, April and Lisa handed us Fire Island aprons, and offered us foccacia, coffee, and drinks. Rachel gave us each a sheaf of recipes and notes, and led us into the back kitchen. We did every step needed for making croissants, from measuring the ingredients to mixing the dough, rolling it and laminating it with the butter, filling and shaping the pastries, baking them, and of course, eating them at the end. 

Rolling a croissant into the classic shape.


The most important thing to know about making croissants is that you are learning a technique for making layers of dough and butter. Butter melts at room temperature (and bakeries tend to be much warmer than most rooms), so the trick to keeping it layered with the dough rather than melting into it is to keep everything cold.

Mixing the dough with the industrial-strength machine.

• The dough gets mixed in two stages, beginning with egg yolks, flour (Fire Island uses a mix of organic all-purpose white flour and some whole wheat), water, and pre-ferment (a chunk of yeasted dough that has been rising for at least a day), and let this rest for twenty minutes. The resting (technical name, "autolyse," which means to take up water by itself) lets the flour soak up some of the water. 

• Add the yeast and salt, and mix thoroughly. Then add the sugar and butter, gradually. Continue mixing until the dough all looks the same.

Window pane test -- this dough has enough gluten development that it can be stretched thin to let the light through without tearing. It's ready to start working with.

• Continue mixing until you can take a piece of dough and stretch it very thin -- called the window pane test. That shows that the gluten is beginning to "develop," that is, to make the chains of gluten proteins that make wheat-based doughs so stretchy. The gluten chains will capture the carbon dioxide bubbles that the yeast is making as it eats the starches in the flours and turns them into sugars.

• Separate the dough (depending on how much you are making) into "pillows" -- somewhat rounded but flat pieces of dough. Cover them tightly with saran wrap or other flexible plastic and put into the freezer for about an hour. The essential steps that make the croissants so flaky mostly have to do with keeping the dough and the butter chilled. Take the pieces of dough out of the freezer and roll out into flat sheets about 4 millimeters (three-eighths of an inch) thick. Wrap and freeze again until solid. 

Slicing the  Plugra butter (very high in butter fat) for the butter layers in the croissants.

• Next, flatten the butter.

Rachel pointing out the thickness of the partially rolled butter. She sliced the butter thin, put it between two sheets of silicone, and used the "sheeter" machine to roll it out to 1/4 inch thick.

A rolling pin works too, and the workout saves you a trip to the gym.

 The 1/4 inch sheet of butter laid onto the dough.

Folding the dough over the butter for the first time.

• Put the layer of butter onto the sheet of dough, and fold it (instructions are here at traceysculinaryadventures.com   -- she has excellent photos and descriptions of the layering, folding, and rolling processes).

Rachel covering the dough with plastic to keep it from drying out, before putting it in the freezer.

• Once the first set of folding and layering is done, the dough goes into the freezer for an hour or so. 

Folding and running the dough through the sheeter -- we did this several times.

• When it comes out, it gets folded and turned and folded again. Then it goes back into the freezer for at least twenty minutes. When it comes out, it's ready to be rolled out, cut and shaped into croissants.   

Class members shaping classic croissants.

• At this point, it's time to pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees. A website (traceysculinaryadventures.com) shows one way to cut and shape the croissants; the photos below show the Fire Island way. Rachel emphasized using a very sharp knife or pizza cutter, and taking care to keep the cut edges safe from being crimped or mushed together so that as the dough rises the layers stay separate and can puff up during proofing and baking. 

Partially trimmed dough, with the box of chocolate bars. The trimmings from the pastries, like the piece in front, get tossed with cinnamon and sugar and baked into monkey bread.

 Rachel measures and trims the sheet of dough before using a five-bladed cutter for the chocolate and ham and cheese croissants. Consistency is critical -- the customer (you and me) wants the same wonderful chocolate croissant every time.

The properly rolled chocolate croissant, with two chocolate bars in each one. The seam of the croissant goes flat against the tray (which is lined with parchment paper).

• Set the shaped croissants on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper leaving a couple of inches on all sides. Cover them with a sheet of plastic or plastic wrap, and set them to "proof" in a warm place for twenty to thirty minutes (that is, to rise -- they should get to be about twice the size they were when you first shaped them).

 Danish pastries filled, decorated, and ready to bake. The back two have a cream cheese filling topped with blackberries; the front two are filled with frangipane, a sweet almond mixture.

Into the oven -- note how far apart they are on the baking sheet, to make sure that they have maximum space to rise and brown.

• When you're ready to bake them brush the tops lightly with a pastry brush dipped into a beaten whole egg. Be sure to only brush the tops. If the egg gets onto the cut edges, it will seal them so that they don't spread apart to make the flaky high-puffed desirable croissant.

Finished croissants, ready to savor.

• Bake them for about nine minutes, then turn the pan around to make sure that they are baking evenly, and bake another nine minutes or until dark golden brown. 

Rachel showing the many-layered interiors, and the exteriors that flake onto the pan because the top layers baked just right.

For hours or to contact Fire Island, click here. They have the same hours (7:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.) at both their South Addition location (1441 G Street) and their brand new Airport Heights location (16th and Logan, just off Lake Otis).

The new Fire Island on a rainy opening day.

VanderWeele's Wheat, Mat-Su Valley Alaska -- September 2015 Update

Sandhill crane in Ben VanderWeele's wheat fields (September 26, 2015, Photo TWCarns)

'Tis the season for rain and gray days lit by the flaming gold birches along the highways. In late July, we spent a couple of hours with Ben VanderWeele learning about the challenges of growing wheat (see post here) in the Mat-Su Valley. On the last Saturday of September, with rain and fog swathing most of Anchorage and the Mat-Su Valley, we drove to the wheat fields to see them after the harvest. The sandhill cranes arrived before we did, though, and were gleaning the fields in their long-necked leisurely style. Some of the fields have been turned under; the ones that were most recently harvested sill have stubble standing.

By this time, late September, most of Ben VanderWeele's wheat harvest has gone to the Anchorage Distillery for vodka, and to Rise and Shine Breads for its fat and fragrant loaves. His barn probably has numerous large plastic bins filled with wheat for the winter, and for next spring's plantings.

A flock of sandhill cranes fattening before flying south.

Snow-capped Chugach Mountains from Westchester Lagoon in Anchorage (September 23). This is what the mountains beyond VanderWeele's Farm look like beneath today's clouds.


Below are a few photos that we took on September 5, when Ben VanderWeele had harvested about half of the wheat.

In places, some of the unharvested stalks are still bright green, a long way from ripe. Many of these are probably "tillers" -- side stalks that grow up around the main stalk. They also have seed heads, but usually ripen more slowly than the main stalk (which is called the "flag.")

In the foreground of the photo, weeds, and some foxtail grass (lower right corner). Then wheat. At the far edge of the field is fireweed, mostly gone to seed, but still with plenty of red. Beyond are woods.

The cloud-capped Chugach mountains rise beyond the wheat fields in the middle distance.

The harvested sections, before being turned under.

The unharvested rows. Note that sections on the right front side of the photo have many more green tones in them than the more distant rows. They are different strains of wheat, ripening at different times.

From Antioch to Anchorage -- June 20 - 25, 2015

It's been several days since there was time to sort through pictures and impressions from the hours and places that we've been. This is a summary of the riches.




Leaving Antioch, June 20, 2015

Even in the drought, dew still forms on the grass in LA -- morning shadows and sunshine on the way up the hill to Antioch.

At the end-of-residency lunch, Steve Heller (chair of the MFA program) speaks to students and faculty. The relaxed atmosphere is typical of Antioch, and one of its many appeals. Other faculty include (left to right) Bernadette Murphy, (unidentified woman in gold shirt), Erin Aubrey Kaplan, Jennifer Factor, and Peter Selgin.

My "buddy," Constanze Frei, a gifted person and fascinating writer who has been a treasure of information and support during these first weeks as a student.

A cardboard cutout of a he-man at the LAX airport bookstore, juxtaposed with rows of women's magazines.

Unexpected at LAX -- a tin bucket filled with sunflowers; and

a guitarist serenading passers-by.

The airplane's windshield gets cleaned just like yours does.

Fathers' Day in Seattle, June 21, 2015

Here's one of the great things about Seattle -- on the street where Anthea lives, a palm tree, and

fireweed, both in front of the same house.

We spent the day, at Jim's request, mostly seeking out ice cream and hanging out at the Ballard Locks. We started however, with a stop at the Pike Street Market, for fruit at Sosio's, and pastries at Le Panier..

The first gelato haven provided a variety of fruit and chocolate flavors (sorry -- I didn't write down the name, but can find it out if needed)..


After that, Jim headed off on his own, and Anthea and I helped Regina choose a hat. In Finland, all people who earn a PhD are given a tophat and a sword. We went to Bernie Utz's on Union Street to try on tophats.

Regina contemplates the foldable, $450 tailors' silk tophat. The very excellent salesman said that it was a high-maintenance item -- can only hold it by the brim (otherwise it accumulates fingerprints), and it doesn't do well in rain -- not a good hat for Seattle, or for a glaciologist.

We ended up with this one - more of a fedora, made of fur felt, with interchangeable hat bands and feather decor, and wearable almost everywhere. The "sword" will be a glaciologist's knife (haven't seen it yet, so don't know what distinguishes it from all other knives).

Did not get the name of the second gelato place either, but did get delicious gelato.

At the Ballard Locks, we got the end of a Fathers' Day Pipe Band concert (they are marching out),

seals swimming in the locks (some were dark; this one was spotted),

a parrot to sit on Anthea's arm (part of the Fathers' Day festivities for some reason),

and plenty of ships and boats to watch as they waited for the water to sink or rise and get them through the locks. Regina and Deke have done this a few times on the UW sailboats that they rent. Regina explained that the boats tie up to each other so that they go through the locks together -- safer for all. The water is nearly out, as you can see by the light area at the top, and the green algae on the lower part of the wall. We finished out the day with an early dinner at Tutta Bella pizza in Wallingford, but no-one was able to eat more than one scoop of gelato by that time so we had to skip the tiramisu. Next time.


Monday, June 22 -- Thursday, June 25 -- Anchorage

Monday we walked along Ship Creek -- saw this week's cruise ship, a barge, and a cargo plane going in to land at the Air Force base.

People have been catching king salmon for the past couple of weeks. This guy said it was his first ever.

Upstream near the dam and fish ladder, a rope across the creek marks the limit for fishing. It has acquired quite a few lures and lines this summer.

It's cottonwood season, when the fluff that gives the trees their name

falls and gathers in clumps among the weeds at edges of sidewalks and streets.

For the first few days, the air was hazy from the wildfires burning all around Anchorage, in the Mat-Su Valley and on the Kenai Peninsula.

Whiffs of smoke alternated with wild roses.

Yesterday (June 24) we walked around Lake Spenard. Our favorite sight -- mother duck with seventeen ducklings (or thereabouts). We think that they couldn't all be hers -- either she's babysitting, or has adopted several other families.

Elodea, a water weed used in home aquariums has gotten into the lake. It's dangerous for the planes, as well as fast-growing and likely to choke out much of the native life. We saw a research boat on the lake, as well as this craft, which appeared to be breaking up mats of other water weeds.

The smoke persisted yesterday -- you can barely make out Mt. Susitna below the plane taking off from Anchorage International.

An odd wetlands area along the bike trail was occupied by a mother mallard and two half-grown ducks.

Many of the small cabins around the lake that hold equipment and supplies for the float/ski planes are neatly kept, with green lawns and flowers.

Today (June 25), we went back along Ship Creek. The military forces have been carrying out exercises for the past few days, with many more jets flying than usual.

and a Navy ship in the port, along with a more ordinary barge.

People are still catching fish -- we watched this guy pull his in, and haul it up to show it off to his friends.

The air is much clearer today, at least to the east (notice, no snow on those peaks),

and the flowers are vivid.

Post script: One of my favorite quotes for the week came from Anthea -- "If you have a chair in your bedroom, put something on it before you go to sleep. Otherwise, you may wake up and find something in it that you didn't expect." It's a 31-word horror story, guaranteed to persuade you to put something on your chair.