A return to baking this week, and a crack at a recipe I’ve been wanting to try for ages.
The only thing stopping me thus far has been a fear of what might happen, as it’s a bit of a messy and truculent thing, or so I had read.
My research indicated that it is, however, one of the most delicious things ever, so naturally the tummy overruled the head, and I set to. This week, we tackle the mighty Kouign–Amann. Sounds like a 1940’s mountaineering documentary, doesn’t it? Well, like climbers at base camp, we’re certainly going to need our wits about us, and a nice, spacious clean kitchen to boot. It’s a bit messy to say the least.
The Kouign–Amann comes from Brittany in France, that achingly beautiful landscape of gentle rolling meadows, dense woodland and dramatic coastlines. Oh, and cows, lots of cows. The Breton cow has a terrific time, munching rich grasses and providing us with some of the best butter on Earth.
It’s so dense and rich it has an almost chewy texture, and when the local butter producers add a few crystals of sea salt it becomes one of my very favourite ingredients.
Quite honestly, I’m asked what my ‘Desert Island Dish’ would be many times, and though I usually opt for a simple bacon sandwich, I often think I’d be truly at my happiest with a loaf of good sourdough bread an a pat of Breton demi-sel butter. It is a simple pleasure, but so exquisite and the flavour is amazingly complex and deeply satisfying. I could eat it every day of my life and I honestly believe I’d never get bored of it.
So, we have our lovely rich, chewy butter, and for our Kouign–Amann we require only a couple more ingredients; flour and sugar, plus a dab of yeast. The Kouign-Amann was created, it’s said, in the 1800s in the seaside town of Douarnenez, Finisterre (literally, the end of the Earth – it’s the westernmost tip of France, a forked peninsula of land reaching out into the Atlantic, carved by heavy tides and scudding winds) by bakers who clearly had a bit of time (not to mention dough) on their hands.
It’s essentially a basic bread dough, folded and rolled with butter and sugar in a way similar to making fresh puff pastry, then baked in a hot oven until the sugar caramelises and the buttery juices leak everywhere and fill the bready cake as it bakes and rises.
The resulting pastry is a dense, sweet bread with a deeply caramelised crunch around the outside and across the top. It smells amazing whilst it cooks – a combination of that unmistakable ‘fresh loaf’ smell that yeast provides, twinned with the aroma of sugar starting to caramelise.
To eat, it’s incredibly rich and chewy, but you can clearly discern all the elements; the rich butter, intense caramel and yeasty bread. It comes together quite harmoniously, and has a freshness that encourages the second slice. And the third.
You really should have a go at this, if you have time and sufficient interest. It’s not for the casual baker, but one for the committed ‘happy-to-get-my-hands-messy’ type.
And the results, especially with a cup of good tea and a blob of apricot jam, are well worth the way your kitchen will look about half-way in!
Sometimes it’s just worth the effort. Aprons on!
Ingredients:
25g dry yeast
350ml lukewarm water
520g plain flour, plus some extra for rolling
220g top-quality salted butter, diced and chilled
400g unrefined golden caster sugar, plus a little more for rolling out the pastry
1 teaspoon Maldon salt
100g extra butter, melted
Extras:
Large metal spatula or fish slice
A 9” solid-bottomed cake tin or pie dish, ideally non-stick
Method:
In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast in the water along with a pinch of the sugar. Stir and allow it to stand for 10 minutes until it activates and becomes foamy.
In a large, wide bowl sift the flour and add the salt.
Work the yeast water into the flour and bring together to make a dough. The dough should be soft, but not too sticky.
Dust a wide, clean work surface with flour and tip out the dough onto it. Knead with your hands until the dough is smooth and elastic, which should take about five minutes. If the dough is very sticky, knead in just enough flour, one tablespoon at a time, until the dough comes away from your hands.
Brush a medium-sized bowl with a little melted butter, and put the dough ball into the bowl.
Cover with a damp tea towel, and let it rest in a warm place for 1 hour. It will inflate a little.
Meanwhile, line a plastic tray or large serving plate with clingfilm and set to one side.
Re-flour the work surface, and tip out the dough. Roll it into a loose rectangle about 12” x 18” with the shorter sides left and right as you look down.
The dough may become a bit hard to handle and sticky. Use a little more flour and the fish slice to manoeuvre the dough if necessary. And don’t panic!
Distribute the butter pieces evenly down the centre of the dough and sprinkle with 50g of the sugar.
Lift the left hand flap of dough and fold it over the centre, than do the same with the right side. You now have a butter sandwich. Roll out a little, but not as much as before.
Sprinkle the entire dough with another 50g of sugar and fold again into thirds.
Place the folded dough on the clingfilm-lined tray and chill for one hour. Wipe any excess flour from the work surface and dust with a good handful of sugar.
Take the dough out of the fridge, and gently prise it off the tray onto the sugary work surface. It will most likely be leaky and sticky. Persevere!
Sprinkle the dough with yet another 50g of sugar, pressing it in well with your hands, and roll into the long rectangle shape for one final time.
Again, fold into thirds, pop back on the tray, and let it rest in the fridge for half an hour.
Preheat the oven to 220°C and brush the cake tin with plenty of melted butter.
Remove the dough from the fridge and roll into a rough circle about the size of the tin.
It will be almost impossibly leaky and sticky; dusting with an extra sprinkle of sugar will help.
Gently lift the dough into the pan, making repairs if necessary. Don’t worry, it’s meant to be a bugger to make, and it’ll all be OK when it’s baked.
Sprinkle with the remaining 50g of sugar and drizzle with a tablespoon of melted butter. Bake for 35-40 minutes, until the top and edges are deeply caramelised.
Let it stand for a few minutes, then run a spatula around the edges to release the Kouign Amann and slide onto a cooling rack. Serve warm with a blob of jam, ideally apricot.
