About a year ago I wrote about how my sourdough baking practice basically disappeared once faced with the realities of my life in Saigon and my preferences as a home cook and baker.
I did revive my dehydrated starter, though, and I shared how I used it to bake? cook? (I’m still searching for the best verb) some flatbread and not quite loaves using a covered pot on my stove. I signed off with the mind set that I’d keep my starter alive and maybe still make that type of bread but given the janky pot set-up and burnt bottoms I’d experienced, probably not.
But what’s that famous Jeff Goldblum line in Jurassic Park? Life finds a way?
In my case, a baker’s heart found a way: the rice cooker.
I don’t remember how or why or when I Googled or stumbled across recipes for bread made in a rice cooker. But it couldn’t have happened that long after I wrote last year’s post. Because come September, I shared some of my experiments.
I have always known that you can successfully “bake” cakes in rice cookers, and many of the latest models have an actual cake function. But bread is not cake. If you search Google or YouTube for rice cooker bread recipes, you will see heaps for how you can use the magical countertop appliance to yield something that is akin to bread. Some bakers, cooks!, produce an astonishing array of leavened items that make an oven seem totally irrelevant. Not surprisingly, many of them are located in Asia where having a proper oven is much more rare than in places like North America or Europe. While oodles of folks on my Instagram feed had all the great equipment to bake all the beautiful things, I was relieved to find a niche group of folks elsewhere I could admire for their alternabakes.
So. It was possible. But there was variation in recipes about exactly how you should go about rice cooking your dough. And based on pictures, there was also variation in how your finished loaf might look. Mine are pale; some are deep golden. The basic approach is this: run as many cycles on the cook function as necessary to ensure doneness. I check with a toothpick, lol, like a cake.
The other thing you must do is flip your loaf in between cycles. This allows it to cook more evenly and fully. I’ve been averaging four to five cycles, most of which I use on the turbo or quick function and then one or two on regular cook. It takes around 90 minutes for my dough to be done.
I recently tried to skip the flip so that I wouldn’t lose the loft (similar to one of my pot loaves last year), but I had to flip at the last cycle as the top half wasn’t quite done. Here are some shots of that bake. Apologies that I cut it in half before taking the photos.
The first thing I should have actually told you about my approach is that I’ve landed on using my pizza dough to create bébé loaves. Because of my teaching schedule, I have some constraints on how and when I can build my levain, make my dough, and then bake, uh, cook. I would have more freedom if I did so on my day off, but with only a single day off, I want no home duties and a nice dinner out. So, as I mentioned last year, I cook on Saturday nights, building the levain overnight from Thursday to Friday and then making my dough on Friday. It cold ferments in the fridge before bake time.
I first tried my old focaccia and ciabatta recipes, but their dough times are four to five hours. I was sometimes finding it very tight to make the dough. Then I remembered the panuozzi (pizza dough sandwiches) I used to make.
Pizza dough can totally be used to make bread. And with a dough build that only takes two and a half hours, I switched to this recipe. I tried 48 hours of cold ferment at first—I used to do 72 when making pizza—but I get a better rise if I keep it to 24.
I have been very very happy with these pizza dough loaves, which I have used both for sandwiches and simple bread-and-butter nights. If you look up #rhirhiricecookerbakes on Instagram, you can see all that I’ve shared. But these lil ones were favourites.
So what are these loaves like? Because they’re certainly not like a loaf that comes out of your oven. I’ve learned to appreciate a rice cooker loaf as its own separate lovable thing.
The crust is definitely more of a skin. Whereas the pot gave a mantou-like one, the longer time in the rice cooker is closer to a bagel—because of all the steam that builds up. As a bagel lover, I dig it, as there is a lot of chew to the skin. There is no textural contrast, though, between burnished crust and soft middle, and that might be the biggest reason why it’s just pointless to make comparisons.
The crumb is also a little different. I find it spongier, likely because of the steam. Its look always gives sourdough alveoli glamour shots, but I find once I start to chew, the sponge reminds me a little of British crumpets. I notice it most when I use the loaf for a sandwich.
I will compare these funny bakes to regular ones when it comes to flavour. The best. And that is why I make them: I crave the soughdough bread flavour. I have not explored eating sourdough loaves in Saigon because regular (too large) loaves result in slices for the freezer. Stop me if I’ve told you before that I don’t love toast. When I want proper sourdough, I order it when I’m dining at Lửa. Chef Mark’s recipe brings joy.
Eating two to three sourdough creations per week during the pandemic cemented my love—my need—for the flavour that natural leavening bestows. The flavour is as good as ever in my little starter Lotte as she’s evolved in her new tropical environment. I am relieved that I have found an easy and strange way to get my fix of her. And that salted French butter is always in stock somewhere in this city.
Related/unrelated, I wanted to end by sharing what Anna Merlan recently posted on Wordloaf about tradwife influencers who bastardize the breadmaking process and make like doing all the wrong things could be right.
I couldn’t help but think of my rice cooker bakes and me writing this post to kind of let you know my process. One quote she got from Wordloaf’s Andrew (my baking mentor) stuck out to me.
There’s a new wave of influencers now, who seem like people who had no baking experience but who figured it out, and obviously they know enough to make it work. Part of me wants to champion that. But I’m bothered by people who are clearly advanced beginners who are now giving other people advice… I worry that it’s diluting the quality of information out there.
I’m very much not an influencer and equally not giving advice, but I feel I know enough about baking to make this rice cooker thing work and have been sharing it on social media and now this newsletter.
Also not a tradwife.
But speaking of not being an influencer, last year I mentioned that I had been down like 250 Instagram followers since moving to Vietnam and not cooking or baking as voraciously. Now, I’m down like 600. The only emotion I feel is shock that I even had 600 to lose. Hugs to all those who stick around for some crazy reason.
If there was any advice I would give it would be this:
Appreciate your oven. Show it some love by baking. Try to find a way to be mesmerized by what natural or commercial yeast can do to flour, water, and salt.
And then just add butter.
Love your bread & am enjoying hearing where your baking/cooking adventure is going now. I swear I can taste it. Furthermore "Also not a tradwife." is going to be my new tagline.