Baking Like A (Mad) Scientist, Part 2: Bakers Math- Attack of the Numbers

/ The Black Hat Baker / 2 Comments
     Good evening, friends and neighbors! 

    Last week, I talked a bit about how to approach baking scientifically. At its heart, baking is edible chemistry- a careful and calculated combination of substances with the intent of causing a series of chemical reactions that produce a different (tasty) material.  If you haven’t read the last blog entry yet, I suggest you do so- and read the rest of the blog while you’re at it. A lot of cool stuff is discussed!

     This week, we are going to be discussing one of the most vital parts of scientific baking, and also one of the most feared and intimidating parts- baker’s math.

*”O Fortuna” plays in the background*

In what has almost become a scripted discussion, when I ask people why they don’t like baking, these are the answers I get:

  • “Oh, I just don’t get it!”
  • “You have to be so careful about everything! I’m not good at that.” (This came from a nurse.)
  • “It’s so much work!”

Far and away, though, the most common answer I get is:

“I stink at measuring- all those numbers and everything.”

Ok, I get it. I’m not heartless. Not everyone “gets” math- or so they think. People use math every single day. They are so accustomed to seeing math as a monolithic wall of formulas in a textbook, that they fail to realize just how much they rely on it every moment of their lives. Here’s the big secret:

If you can count money, slice a cake, or make a cocktail- you can do baker’s math.

“Wait… cocktails? Money? What?”
Hold on, stick with me. We’ll start with…

#1. Formulas, and Bakers Percentage

In the last blog entry (have you read it yet?), I mentioned in passing that in professional baking, it is more common to use “formulas” rather than recipes. This choice of words is not just to make bakers feel smug and smart. Bakers math was formerly known as “bakers percentages,” but people got confused because they don’t ACT like the percentages people understand, as I will demonstrate soon.

First of all, quick crash course- a percentage is a way of describing part of a whole. It is another way of depicting a fraction or decimal number. For example: 

1/2         =            .5                =            50%
Fraction                      Decimal                            Percentage
1              =              1.0            =           100%

This is the way percentages work in any other walk of life- demonstrating fractions in relation to 100. This is the same way U.S. currency works-

100 ¢        =              $1

Still with me so far? Good.
Bakers formulas don’t work like that.

In a bakers formula, percentages are used to show RATIOS- that is, different amounts relative to EACH OTHER, rather than to a whole. (Here’s where the cocktails I mentioned before come in.)

As a treat for reading this far, here is my personal favorite recipe for a Gin and Tonic-

The BHB’s Gin and Tonic
1 part Tanqueray Gin
2 parts Tonic Water
splash of cucumber juice
Garnish with cucumber slice

Besides a tasty beverage with which to relax on a summer day, I’ve also just provided you with a ratio- whenever you make this drink, you use twice as much tonic water as gin, whether making it for yourself (advisable!) or making a giant jug of it (inadvisable, unless you share), and it will always taste the same. 

This is a little thing called “scaling”- and it’s what allows me to make one loaf of bread or a hundred loaves from the same formula, and have them all come out the exact same without doing an insane amount of extra calculation.
Yes, using math to prevent more math. You’re welcome!

With the idea of ratios still firmly in mind, consider the following formula, borrowed from Realbreadcampaign.org:

100% Strong Flour
68% Water
2% Yeast
1% Salt

After everything about percentages above, you can already see there’s a problem here:
“100% flour?! That’s the whole thing, isn’t it?!” “That adds up to 171%! Impossible!”

Remember though: we are dealing with RATIOS. All the ingredients are in RELATION to something else- in this case, the flour (100%.) In most breads, flour is obviously the most prevalent ingredient, so it becomes the standard against which all the other ingredients are related- 100%. 
Therefore, in making this formula, you are being told that your water should be 68% the amount of your flour, your yeast should be 2% its amount, and salt 1%.

Now the astute among you might notice something else- what amount? Pounds? Cups? Handfuls? Stone? 

That’s the beauty of using bakers math: it doesn’t matter. It can be anything. As long as you apply the same unit to everything, it will come out right. 
Want to make the 100% flour equal ounces? 

100 oz. Strong Flour
68 oz. water
2 oz. yeast
1 oz. salt

You’ll come out with a LOT of dough (nearly 11 lbs), but it will work. 

That’s quite enough for tonight I think- next week, we’ll be talking about measurement: weight vs. volume, scaling, and more!

Till then…

Stay classy,

Baking Like A (Mad) Scientist

/ The Black Hat Baker
     Good evening, friends and neighbors! I hope everyone’s spring is going well, and you’re enjoying the warmer weather! 

        Last entry, I talked about how baking was similar to alchemy- a mix of science, art, and magic. Tonight, I’m going to focus on the science part, and specifically how to develop a recipe, tweak a recipe, take notes, keep track of changes, and generally turn your kitchen into a laboratory- just because you don’t have bubbling beakers and Bunsen burners doesn’t mean you can’t do science with an oven and and stand mixer!

     To start with, we go back to basics. A long time back, I told you what the most useful and important tool you can have in a kitchen, baking or otherwise. Remember what it is? Here’s a hint: 


NOTEBOOK.


     Yes, the humble notebook. Pocket size, composition book, binder, whatever you like. Something with blank pages eager to be filled, and a thing to write with. You will be writing down EVERYTHING: Temperatures, procedures, ingredient amounts, ingredient forms and types, scalings and calculations, ALL OF IT. When you want to keep track of all the changes you will be making, having a hard record is vital. 


      Got a notebook? Good. Then we can begin.


All of culinary arts involve some kind of scientific knowledge and method. A fry cook needs to understand how proteins behave with heat so he can grill a steak. 
In baking, the name of the game is chemistry- your goal is to arrange ingredients in such a way that, with heat applied over time, you get accurate replicable results- meaning, if you hand your recipe over to someone else, ideally, your two products should be identical.  


The BHB’s Guide To Scientific Baking 

  • Keep the original recipe 

             “Hmmm.. what kind of flour did this recipe have in it to start with? How many eggs? Grr.. where did I put that recipe?” Keep yourself organized. Everytime you make a change, attach it somehow to the original, but KEEP THE ORIGINAL INTACT.

  • Work in ONE unit of measure whenever possible. 

             Home recipes out of cookbooks (at least in the US) tend to go off volume (cups, teaspoons, etc.) There are numerous problems with this- a cup could be a level cup, a heaping cup, a scant cup, a packed cup, etc. Professional bakers tend to use “formulas” rather than recipes, and almost all ingredients go by weight, rather than volume (i.e. a pound of flour rather than 2 cups flour) It increases the reliability and replicability of your work. ALWAYS work in the same measuring system- there is no percentage in bouncing between metric and imperial in a recipe.

  • Leave space for random notes in your book. 

             Did a little something different that time? Want to remind yourself of something in the future? A garnish? A flavoring? Keep notes.

  • Document from ALL 5 SENSES. 

            Your senses are the most basic and finest scientific apparatus you have. Did your cookies taste too sweet? Have a weird smell? Crumbly texture when you want chewy? Don’t JUST rely on numbers. Keep notes on EVERY thing related to your product- what you want to change, what you want to keep the same, and how.

  • Quantify as much as possible. 

            Yes, I know I just told you not to rely strictly on numbers. They DO, however, help create exactitude. How many times did you fold the batter? How long did you let it sit after baking? Remember- the goal of a good recipe is to give you the SAME PRODUCT, regardless of when it’s made or who makes it. No flukes- if you got lucky, keep good notes so yo can get that lucky AGAIN.

  • Mess up your cookbooks. 

            You know how your folks told you never to draw or write in books? Screw that. Cookbooks are meant for the kitchen- they are SUPPOSED to be scrawled in and messed up with notes, calculations, and food stains.

  • Scale into a separate column– NOT IN YOUR HEAD.
    At the moment, I do not care to say how many recipes I’ve botched because I was clever/ in a hurry and tried to scale up or down a recipe in my head, only to get confused and ruin everything. Keep separate columns on your recipes for multiplying or dividing batches. 
  • Keep track of variations, and note changes between. 
    You just finished a new batch of a recipe you’ve been tweaking. You’ve been working at it for months now- this batch though is missing something you liked from the one before.  Keep track of all the variations of recipes, and mark down every change between them so you don’t get yourself lost.
  • Get and value feedback

          This one is incredibly important. You are naturally going to be biased toward your creations, so you need to get honest feedback from people.  BE OBJECTIVE. Don’t take anything to heart. Learn especially to tell the difference between constructive and destructive criticism- and do not deal with anyone that gives you destructive criticism. 

Tomorrow, I’ll get into baker’s percentages, and give you the development sheets I use for hashing out new products. In the meantime,

Stay Classy,

Alchemy

/ The Black Hat Baker
Good evening, friends and neighbors! I apologize for the silence as of late- I promise to get better at updating here. What might help remind me, while we’re at it, is a little feedback- what would you like to see in this space each week? Recipes? Demos? Stories, and my philosophical musings? The comments and email work- let me know what you’d like!

Speaking of philosophical musings, tonight is going to be another one.

Since I’ve been writing on here, I’ve described baking as a science, an art, a passion, and a craft par excellence. I do NOT think I have described it yet (and if I’m wrong, send me the quote and I’ll thank you for reading!) as alchemy.

Alchemy was an extension of natural philosophy, and is the root of the fields of medicine, chemistry, and pharmacology. The most well-known goals of alchemy were turning lead into gold, discovering the key to eternal youth/ immortality, and creating a semblance of life outside of the natural order. Alchemists were famous (and in many cases, infamous) for their secretive nature. Formulas and concepts were recorded not just in notebooks, but in beautifully embellished pages, with elaborate symbols and diagrams representing materials or abstracts that would only be understood by other alchemists- or more likely, the alchemist that created them alone. 

This was chemistry in its infancy- the complex interplay between different substances was understood at only the most basic empirical level, and frequently was described using mystical notions derived from the cultures or religions they were created within.

In summary, alchemy was a combination of art, science, and magic.

What, I may ask, is a better way to describe baking?

Consider for a moment, the following:
– The pounded seed of a tall, golden grass.
– Water from the nearest well or brook.
– Crushed, translucent white rock from a certain hole you found.

Combine them all into a curious, stiff paste.
Let it sit until it has swollen.
Place next to your fire to see what happens.

The result is bread- a source of carbohydrates and has kept humans alive for over 10,000 years.
This was done before humans understood yeast, the Maillard reaction, the development of gluten,  or the result of different temperatures being used on the dough.

For all intents and purposes, this is what you did to magically generate food from whatever it was you found around you. Cooking was similar, but easier to understand at the time. It was easy to see meat change and blacken as it roasted, or vegetables warming and softening as they cooked. Much of the action that makes baking possible, however, happens at the microscopic level- beyond human vision, and therefore, possibly beyond comprehension at the time.

Bakers today have quite a few advances and advantages over our Stone Age ancestors, but while the ingredients, tools, and understanding may have changed and advanced, the basic rule has not:

Take fresh ingredients.
Prepare and combine them well.
Keep track of how so you can do it again.
Feed yourself and others.

Kitchen alchemy.

Stay curious.
Stay intriguing.
and of course,

Stay Classy,

-BHB

Bubba

/ The Black Hat Baker
Good evening, friends and neighbors! Happy belated Mother’s Day to all my maternal readers, or any who serve that function in their lives.

About a year ago this month, I lost my grandmother, Mitzi, after a long illness. This came at a time when I was nearing the end of culinary school, and had just gotten my first professional baking job at one of the casinos in Atlantic City, so her passing was especially poignant.

For me, Bubba Mitzi was the notion of hospitality made manifest. When visiting her house, the first words from her mouth were asking if I had eaten, if I was hungry, and specifically wanted some chicken soup. (Like all Jewish grandmothers, my Bubba made the best matzah ball soup to be found on this Earth, and I’d argue to the grave anyone who said otherwise.)

Memories of my Bubba tend to center around her giant dining room table- the sight of all the best family dinners of my childhood. Showing up at Bubba’s house meant delicious things to come, and anything bad in this world could wait until after dessert was cleared away. The table would almost groan with cucumber and onion slaw, marinated tomatoes, chicken, brisket, long golden loaves of challah, heavy green potato kugel, glorious noodle kugel, rainbow-colored jello molds studded with fruit complementing each flavor, and cakes that you would pray some survived to have again tomorrow.

Alongside all of these things, though- all these beautiful culinary memories- I remember the stories the most. Family dinners meant stories- people laughing, joking, remembering things from the past, and recounting them all into my eager ears as I filled my belly.

I like to say that my mother and sisters were the first ones who taught me to bake as a child, but it was my Bubba Mitzi who taught me WHY I should bake- to create those moments over again. To fill a table with food that people can laugh around and swap stories over, to create a magic circle in which all there is to be worried about is what’s going on your plate next.

This was the hospitality my Bubba taught me- that it’s not the food you make so much as the people you share it with, and that the secret ingredient in all the best recipes is love- for the work, and for those who will enjoy it.

Happy Mother’s Day, Bubba- I miss you deeply, and if I can give people half the happy memories you’ve given men, that would be more than enough.

Stay humble, my friends.
Stay healthy and warm,
and of course-

Stay Classy,

-BHB

Onions

/ The Black Hat Baker / 1 Comment

Good afternoon, friends and neighbors!

A while back, I mentioned a conversation I’d had with a relative of mine. He expressed frustration and concern that I did not share the same vision of professional success as he did-

Relative: “Just think about it, Matt- you make the right moves, and wouldn’t ever have to bake again! Buy gigantic ovens and extruders for the product, hire and train people to use them, and then all you’d have to do is show up once a week, make sure no one’s hurt themselves, and collect your paycheck!”

Me: “Except that doesn’t sound good to me- I want to keep my bakery small. I LIKE the idea of coming into work and baking everyday. I want to work alongside the people I hire so they can be trained right.”

Relative: *waving hand dismissively*. “Yeah yeah yeah, I get that, that’ll just be for now. Eventually you’re going to grow it bigger though.”

In the end, we walked away shaking our heads, agreeing to disagree- him muttering that I was naive, and me grumbling that he “just didn’t get it.”

I had mentioned before that, in a way, we were both right. I’ll explain this with a story I heard a long while back.

—–

In a small desert town, there was an old man sitting at his stall in the marketplace. Hanging in front of him were 20 strings of onions. A man from the city came up to the old man and poked at the old man’s wares.

“Hey pops, how much for a string of onions?”

“10 cents.”

The city dweller poked at a few more strings. “How much for 5 strings?”

“50 cents,” the old man replied simply.

“50 cents? No bulk discount?” The young man asked, eyebrow raised. He looked at a few of the other strings. “Those onions aren’t as big as the others… I’ll give you 5 cents for them.”

“No,” grunted the old man, nonplussed by the city dwellers rudeness. “10 cents a string.”

The city dweller eyed the old man suspiciously and sneered. “Hmmf! You need to learn some business sense, pops!” he hissed, inkily. The young man then stepped back and looked at all the onions yet again. “How much for all your onions?” He asked with a smug smile, nonchalantly pulling out an expensive leather wallet.

“I would not sell you all my onions,” muttered the old man, barely bothering to look up.

“You wouldn’t sell me them? Why not?” asked the surprised city dweller, interrupted in pulling cash from his wallet. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To sell your onions?”

Here the old man finally looked up and leaned forward, staring right into the city dwellers eyes.

“No, boy- I’m here to live my life. I’ve been visiting this marketplace since I was a child. I love coming here. I love seeing the colors of the beautiful rugs the women pull out to sell. I love the smell of the food they cook. I love eating lunch then taking a nap right here in the middle of the day. I love when my friend Tom comes by, and we sit and smoke and talk about our wives and families. Y’see boy- if I sold you all my onions, then I wouldn’t get to meet or talk to anyone else coming to buy them. My day would be over- I’d have to pack up and go home. I would have given up the life I love- and I wouldn’t do that for anything.”

———–

Money is lovely for the things it buys and security it offers. Success is lovely for the doors in opens.

There are more and finer things in life than money though- and success has different definitions for different people.

Baking is not just a money-making venture. It’s my passion- it makes me happy. It calms me down. It relaxes me when everything else is going wrong. I love talking to people about their favorite flavors. I love figuring out the delicate science of how to make a new recipe work. I love working with like-minded people, teaching them and learning from them.

When you buy from someone who owns a small business, you’re not just getting whatever they are selling- you’re buying some of their time. You’re buying pieces of their heart and soul, and a bit of their passion. You’re not buying from a faceless giant corporation- you’re buying from a friend.

Success has different definitions- and for me, that’s getting up every morning, working hard at what I love, and making a living off of it.

Stay classy,

-BHB