Baking Bread Aboard on a Cold Winter Day

One of the things we love about living aboard is something we call consciousness of consumption.  On a small boat, with limited space and resources, we tend to be very aware of all the "stuff" we need and want.  The boat makes us very aware of the difference between those two things!  Do I want more than three pairs of shoes?  Yes, very much.  Do I need more than three pairs of shoes?  No.  We have the flip flops, the walking shoes, and the boots.  There's simply not any room for more than that.  Do I want more than four plates, four knives, four spoons, etc?  Of course!  The boat tells me I don't need them, though.  Heck, Damon and I almost got in a fight over buying a pot.  Me?  I said no, we have already have our pressure cooker.  There's no room for a second pot.  That's crazy talk.  Damon?  Definitely wanted/needed a small pot.  How could we possibly make soup in a pressure cooker?  (Alright, he was correct, we have room.  I still think he can make his soup in the pressure cooker though!)

I love to cook and bake, so leaving our Creuset cast iron Dutch oven behind was difficult.  We got it as a wedding present and for 25 years it faithfully served as a pot-roast/soup/bean/stew maker that never failed me.  About a dozen years ago I found the New York Time's no-knead bread recipe, which calls for baking bread in a Dutch oven, with the Creuset being ideal.  After years of being a mediocre bread baker, this recipe was a game changer.  It got us through many a Maine snow day and fed huge groups on Kent Island (the field station we ran in summer in the Bay of Fundy).  

Alas, Fulmar isn't Creuset friendly.  Way too big, way too heavy.  Our pressure cooker does a great job with soups and stews and such (and saves a ton of propane), but I'm just not that keen on baking bread in it (yes it can be done).  What's a bread lover to do?  How would I get those crispy crusts and lovely loaves?  Well in summer I often use our solar cooker.  How about when it's cloudy, or I'm just too lazy to trot that thing out?  Or maybe I want to warm up the boat (it's going to be 26 tonight so we're all about using the stove today).

Ladies and gents, I give you the Lekue!  (FYI we do not monetize anything.  This is just a link.)  The Lekue is a silicone bowl/baking dish that's perfect for a boat.  It takes almost no space to store and is lightweight.  I mix my dough right in the Lekue, let it rise in there, and bake it.  No muss, no fuss.  It's one of my favorite boat gadgets!  How's it work?

My recipe is simple:  2 cups flour and 1 cup water.  I add some salt.  I know, it's be better to weigh it all out.  Let's be real, that's not happening on this boat.

I like to give my yeast a head start. I use my 1 cup warm water, some honey, and some flour and mix it with my yeast, allowing it to get frothy, which takes 5-10 minutes.  Then I toss the brew in the Lekue with the flour.  It'd be better to make a sponge but again, let's be real.  This is minimalist boat-bread-baking 101!

I could do this as a no-knead bread if I wanted to let it sit 8 hours.  Today I decided I wanted a finished loaf a bit sooner, so I just kneaded it for five minutes right in the Lekue.  I don't really worry about texture (because I'm lazy).

Then I close up the Lekue...

...and I wrap it in a moist napkin.  Into a warm oven it goes.  Every half-hour or so I pulse the propane on for about ten seconds, just to warm up the oven.  Or I forget and don't.  It all seems to work out. 

After a few hours I check to see what's going on.  Hopefully it's doubled in volume.  If it has, I punch it down and knead it for a minute or two, forming it into a nice ball.  I let that rise a second time for about an hour (or the amount of time it takes to walk the dog down to the marina office to pick up packages, like a two mile walk with an easily distracted dog.)

Now we're ready for the oven!  It's risen into a big ball and when I poke it, the indentation stays.  Yippee!  Bread is imminent!  Get that oven preheated to ~400F.

I close the Lekue.  This keeps the steam contained, which helps make a crispy crust.

The oven thermometer is a vital piece of equipment on Fulmar.  (The boat oven is a fickle thing that likes to play tricks if you don't hold it accountable.)  Once you see 400 degrees, toss that Lekue (closed) into the oven.  Set a timer for 30 minutes.  Read a book, clean the sink, snuggle the dog.

Here's the result.  Nice but not quite as brown as I'd like.  I take it out of the Lekue at this point and put it right on the oven rack for about ten minutes.

Now here's a lovely loaf of bread, don't you think?

Full disclosure:  there is one thing I don't love about these loaves.  They get these strange smooth bottoms on them.  Still crispy and delish but a bit odd.  Luckily I forget all about it when I'm shoving warm bread down my pie hole.

So that's it.  I lost a Creuset but gained a Lekue.  I still look forward to getting that Dutch oven back someday.  Until then, we'll have to make due on Fulmar.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have some bread to eat!