Rustic Flatbreads

So I've been going through a bit of a bread crisis of late. I have long maintained that there is but one true bread, and it is a French concoction of water, flour, salt, and yeast, and nothing else. You could add milk for waffle batter, or oil for pizza dough, but actual bread was something whose purity was unchallenged. Well, after some experimentation this past week, I've altered my priorities enough that I'm skeptical about the French. Their bread is fantastic, it's true, but it's immensely finicky, and the end result, well, has to be baked and eaten almost immediately, which is not always entirely practical. A good olive oil pizza dough tastes wonderful, freezes perfectly for later use, and can be used for a huge variety of breads, in addition to delicious pizza. And I've discovered an awesome new sweet dough recipe which is pretty flexible, and may or may not freeze equally well (results pending this week).

This article isn't about any of those doughs, though, I just wanted to share a little. This article is about rustic flatbreads (or "crackers," if you aren't trying to overcharge posh people for them, but I make that my psychological goal whenever I cook). The dough is unrisen, which means it's easy and quick to make, and it's very, very easy to flavor, and the texture beats anything you could dream of affording in the store. Plus, the total cost of ingredients is something like 30 cents, so you can experiment without feeling guilty.

Take a cup of flour (or 4.5 ounces on the scale), and add a healthy pinch or two of salt. Add 1.5 ounces (fluid or dry weight) of water, and couple of tablespoons (around 2/3 an ounce by weight) of olive oil. Now combine them. This is the nastiest, messiest part of bringing any dough together. I find it's best to take a spatula head (no handle), and scoop along the bottom of the bowl, lifting the whole mess gently so the liquid and flour remaining redistribute. It's the same motion you use for folding things in. Lift out the center and plop it down on one of the sides, spin the bowl to make sure you're doing it evenly, and soon enough, the flour will stop puffing all over the place and you hands will have all kinds of gross sticky bits on them. Oh, and your dough will have sort of come together.

This dough's pretty dry, but you still want it to get pliable, so keep a little dish of water out while you knead in case you want to add a bit. Knead it in standard fashion, smushing it along the table with the heel of your hand, then folding it back and smushing the other direction (90° turn). If you feel the dough splitting instead of stretching, wet your fingertips and brush them onto your dough, then continue kneading. It takes very little water to alter the texture of so little dough, so be very slow and patient with it. Keep kneading until you have a smooth and slightly elastic ball, about two minutes of good kneading.

Now let the dough rest. When you work with any dough, you're stretching gluten, or protein strands, and they don't much like stretching. Sometimes, you have to let them sit so they relax, and then you can work with the dough some more. You're going to roll these pretty flat, so you'll have to let them relax once or twice. Anyways, start your oven heating to 400 (°F) and go do something else for a bit.

Okay, so you're back. Flour your work surface and both sides of your dough, as evenly as you can, but don't worry too much about it. Flour a baking sheet too. Now stretch your dough with your hands into a roughly rectangular shape. Swear, but accept it, when it comes out a triangle every damn time. Lay it flat on the table, and apply a rolling pin smoothly, but with some force so it stretches. If the dough starts to stick to the pin, flip the dough over and attack the other side. If the dough ever sticks to the table, peel it up with a scraper of some kind and add more flour. Keep rolling until it's about the shape you want, and small enough to fit in your baking sheet. If it won't stretch out any more, let it rest for a few minutes and keep going.

Okay, now take any flavorings you want, and scatter them over the top of the dough. If it's something bulky like minced garlic or cracked pepper, run the rolling pin gently over it once so they get embedded in your flatbreads. If it's something finer, like grated parmesan, just press it gently in with your hands. Now, lift the dough onto the baking sheet; don't worry about manhandling, it's plenty sturdy. Take a sharp paring knife and gently cut the dough into your eventual cracker shapes. Don't go all the way through the dough; you just need to add a crease or perforation so you have some lines to crack them along later. Thin strips are good for fetching dips from the bottoms of bowls, and rhomboids have a certain nerdy appeal, but squares work just fine too. Once that's done, and your oven's at temp, sprinkle a couple good pinches of salt over the top of the whole thing, and slide them into the oven.

Check after about 5 minutes to see if they're browning evenly. If not, pull them out and turn the pan around. They take 10-15 minutes to cook completely. If you pull them out before they're well-browned, you'll have soft, pillowy flatbreads with a pleasant floury taste, but you'll have to eat them immediately (they won't keep safely). If you wait until they're well-browned, you can just toss the extras into a tupperware or something and keep them around for later. Plus, you'll get a better texture with lots of crackle, and it'll support more hummus, salsa, or whatever it is you kids do these days.

For anyone wondering, I will eventually post about classic French bread, but it's several bread posts away; first, we have pizza, foccacia, pita, and sandwich loaves to get through.