A toast to Bittman and the final "Minimalist" column

I'm not sure when it happened, but there was a certain period in the late 1990s when I began to religiously read Mark Bittman's Minimalist cooking column in the Times. I had already been cooking avidly by then, but the column opened up new horizons. I can't even begin to count the number of times I read the column and tried the recipe -- that same day. His approach was liberating, since it demanded little more than what you already had in your kitchen. Bittman explained the approach in his final column:

I refused to buy into the notion that there was a “correct” way to prepare a given dish; rather, I tried to understand its spirit and duplicate that, no matter where I was cooking. For months I lived with a hot plate and a combination convection-microwave oven. When I needed to roast something I borrowed a friend’s kitchen. For years after that I cooked in others’ kitchens more than my own; the column never missed a beat. Thus I have no patience for “I’d love to cook but I have a lousy kitchen.”

For guys especially, this was liberating. They didn't have to cook like their mother  -- or anyone else for that matter, though you could cook your way around the world. Again, Bittman:

To me the question was not, “Would I cook this as a native would?” but rather, “How would a native cook this if he had my ingredients, my kitchen, my background?” It’s obviously a different dish. But as Jacques Pépin once said to me, you never cook a recipe the same way twice, even if you try. I never maintained that my way of cooking was the “best” way to cook, only that it’s a practical way to cook. (I’m lazy, I’m rushed, and I’m not all that skillful, and many people share those qualities.)

So thanks, Mark, for all your help. I even ended up using a recipe of yours tonight, but took it in my own direction, combining soup, lentils and brown rice. It riffed off your ideas but in the end it was mine. Which is how I think you'd like it.

For those who are interested, here are his top-25 favorites.

- Samuel Fromartz

Tips on Berlin food? Visit the food bloggers

Currywurst at Witty's

In preparation for a visit to Berlin, I put out the word in my social networks that I was looking for tips about places to eat and food to see. I had seen David Lebovitz's post on this subject and Kerrin Rousset over at My Kugelhopf, but I had barely scratched the surface.

Two people suggested I get ahold of Luisa Weiss, over at The Wednesday Chef who is working on a book about Berlin -- and I was glad that I did. Not only did I get some tips, I actually got to meet a bunch of other bloggers for real socializing, not just the electronic kind, at Luisa's home. They are the people behind these English-language sites:

• Berlin on a Platter (Luisa's take on Berlin restaurants)
• Foodie in Berlin (food insights on the city)
• Ahrelich Gesagt (bread and beer focused blog)
• Berlin Reified (food and design, with stylish photos)
• Travels with my Fork (A Supper Club, outside Berlin)

You shouldn't miss the currywurst (if you eat meat), but I felt it was more of an initiation -- I had it once, and maybe that was enough. Basically, it's a fried sausage smothered in ketchup and curry powder. Pictured above is the organic currywurst stand at Witty's, just across from the KaDeWe department store (with its massive food section). But it was far from the best thing I ate in Berlin. My favorite was the pickled herring and smoked fish, food I associate with my Jewish roots but which I now realize is just typical of northern and eastern Europe.

- Samuel Fromartz

Salt, sugar and a Berlin farmers' market

Just a few days ago, Wal-Mart announced that it would push to cut the salt and sugar content of its processed food products. In the debate over this announcement -- was it enough? -- Jane Black hit the right note. Cutting sugar and salt from foods too quickly won't work because people are hooked on them. The effort will take time and the five-year timetable doesn't seem unreasonable. However, as Tom Laskawy points out, it makes no sense to leave national nutrition policy up to companies.  

Which brings me to Berlin, where I happened to be this past week on research for my book on bread. A chef I met told me that when he visited the U.S. he found food exceedingly salty. Made me think of those restaurants which rely on specialty salts to season their dishes right before they're served: the bright note highlights certain flavors ... or does it? Salt can also be a culinary crutch, a quick fix to entice the palate. And I've got to say, in eating around Berlin, in take-away joints, pubs and sit down restaurants, the food is less salty and no one seems to have a problem with it. 

Now, back in DC, I eat most of my meals at home and don't rely on processed foods. I try to be rather judicious with salt, but even so, I've had food here that tasted under-seasoned. I had a wonderful split pea soup at the farmers' market in Prenzlauer Berg in East Berlin, for example, and found it very mildly seasoned, but it was richly flavored with spices and dill. Instead of salt there was vinegar at the tables where people stood and ate and it did the trick when I added a few drops. (Soup at a farmers' market? Actually there were few farmers here -- mostly venders selling prepared foods and drinks, from wine to olives, soups, bread and handmade Turkish flatbread with fillings). 

Smoked fish is also usually very salty when you buy it in the states but I've found it less so here (he said, just having consumed a bagel, frischkase und lachs -- cream cheese and lox). It's not that they avoid salt, but people appear to use less of it. I'm finding the same thing with sweets too. Though I haven't consumed many, the afternoon cakes I've had were not cloyingly sweet.

The thing that doesn't seem to be in short supply is fat -- butter, of course, and the fat in meat-based products like sausages and brots that are extremely popular. What doesn't seem to be served much are greens and salads. I miss them. I've had enough cabbage and root veggies for awhile.

The bread -- or, rather, I should say, the hand-made artisan breads -- are also wholly different. They are filled with hefty whole grains, which is why I'm here. Eating a slice or two in the morning (with a bit of butter) will keep you going for a long time. This isn't like the airy baguettes or ciabattas everyone seems to like these days but exceedingly dense loaves spotted with coarse grain and seeds. Mixing these doughs at the bakery where I worked was eye-opening, since they hardly appeared like wheat-flour doughs. They were like whole grain breakfast cereals shaped into loaves. In fact, my idea when I get home is to try making them with a seven-grain mix and whole grain flour and see how they turn out.

We have gotten used to a lot of sugar, salt and refined flour in the U.S. -- which contribute to many diseases. But it doesn't have to be that way. And it doesn't mean the food will be bad, or lacking in taste, if we shift away from them. But it will be different and it takes time to get used to the change. But here's the thing -- once you do change, the old stuff just doesn't taste the same any longer. Once you've crossed over, highly refined carbs taste like what they are: treats not staples, and ones that are often too salty.

- Samuel Fromartz 

Worldwatch report highlights the lopsided discussion on Africa and food

Last year, I had the opportunity to travel to Zambia for a project for Worldwatch. State of the World 2011: Innovations that Nourish the Planet, released Wednesday, focuses on many projects that were highly effective in both feeding people and raising incomes in Africa. Much of this work was chronicled on Nourishing the Planet blog, as researcher Danielle Nierenberg logged thousands of miles criss-crossing the continent meeting with farmers, researchers, NGOs and government officials. 

It was a refreshing perspective because so much of the discussion about agriculture in Africa focuses on production. Plant more. Increase yield. Improve seed technology. But there is really no silver bullet when it comes to food production and access and the relentless focus on technology ends up being lopsided and incomplete -- as I saw in Zambia.

The nation  produces more than enough food, much of it by small-scale farmers without tractors, irrigation or any form of transportation. But this excess food ends up rotting in warehouses and causes price crashes when it hits the market -- good for buyers but dismal for small-scale farmers who depend on these sales for their meagre income. Even so, some areas of the country still suffer from malnutrition and shortages. Why? There are many reasons, inadequate roads and supply networks among them, since it isn't always easy to get the food from areas where it is surplus to areas where it is in short supply. In this reality, hi-tech seeds are the least of the nation's problems. And yet, on op-ed pages, that often seems to be the focus of discussion.

How come we hardly see op-eds on what paved roads, improved sanitation, more efficient distribution networks, soil conservation and a reduction in food waste might do for world hunger? Fifteen percent of the grain harvest is wasted in poorer countries, according to a researcher quoted in this report.  Even cutting that in half would amount to an enormous yield gain. The Worldwatch report attempts to jump-start this discussion by addressing these issues. I sought to do the same in my chapter:

The Missing Links: Going Beyond Production

When people talk about African agriculture, food surpluses are not usually the focus of discussion. Invariably, the more familiar topics are famine, starvation, deforestation, and the vast inability of a continent to feed itself, which is brought home by the latest food crisis.

That’s why the headlines in Lusaka, Zambia, in May 2010, were so surprising, announcing a stunning bumper crop of maize. On the back of fertilizer subsidies and propitious rains, production by the nation’s 800,000 maize farmers had rocketed 48 percent to the highest level in 22 years. This boom came after a 31-percent rise the previous year. Now speculation was mounting about a crash in maize prices, especially during the dry June-August period. “A tidal wave of maize will be hitting the market,” predicted Rob Munro, a senior market development advisor for the U.S. Agency for International Development (AID) in Lusaka.

In the cities, the focus was on the price of mealie meal, the porridge-like staple made from ground maize, and whether millers would pass on savings or fatten their profit margins. The government was fretting about what to do with all this food. Zambia had a 600,000-ton surplus from the 2009 harvest, some of which was still sitting in warehouses. And now on top of that, it would reap a 1.1 million–ton surplus for 2010. Exports were uncertain, because of sporadic trade restrictions. Plus, the crop was uncompetitive with South African maize, the low-cost producer in the region.

Zambia was growing so much food that the food itself had become an issue. Yet, it was also an unequivocal success. Zambian farmers had produced more than enough maize and done so without genetically modified crops or even, for the most part, irrigation and mechanized farm equipment. But further development raised a number of questions: If farmers actually modernized and improved their yields, would the surplus be even greater, dwarfing any political ability to deal with this bounty? And why were people still facing chronic hunger and childhood stunting in a country where the food was in oversupply?

The rest of the chapter addresses this issue, but it was clear from even my short stay in Zambia that a lack of agro-technology was not the most pressing issue faced by the nation's farmers. From those I talked with, it hardly seemed on the radar screen in terms of what needed to be addressed. Ignoring technology can be disastrous, but focusing on it out of context, and without regard to a host of related concerns, can be just as perilous since it suggests that food insecurity can be solved with a silver bullet. Only problem is silver bullets can't be eaten. 

- Samuel Fromartz

Heading to Berlin

As part of my book research, I am heading to Berlin for 10 days. I'll spend part of the time in a bakery trying to learn about rye and whole grain breads. If anyone out there has any suggestions for must-see, must-eat, must-do things in Berlin during this frigid month let me know. I hope to be posting at least some pictures on the blog. (The one above is just after the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989). 

California Recipe: Strawberries with a dose of Methyl Iodide

Several years ago, looking into the differences between organic and conventional farming methods, I focused on strawberries as a case study.

At the time, conventional growers depended on methyl bromide, a potent neurotoxin that is injected into the soil to kill pests and diseases. The applicators wore full body suits with gas masks. The ground was covered in plastic to help keep the toxic gas contained. These fields looked like something out a futuristic moonscape, covered in plastic with workers in full hazmat suits. It was just one of the many toxic chemicals used in the conventional strawberry regime. I described all this in a chapter of my book Organic, Inc. Many people told me that after they read that chapter they never bought a conventional strawberry again.

Methyl bromide was always particularly controversial. Law suits were filed because of drift of this pesticide to nearby public schools on the central coast of California, the heart of the strawberry industry. The issue for the courts: Was the drifting chemical at sufficiently low levels to be safe?

You had the usual sides drawn, with growers who feared losing a cherished tool and farmworker and environmental advocates worried about toxicity. The result was that the state set what it considered a "safe level" of use, with widened buffer zones and requirements on when the chemical could be sprayed. But I found the evidence of a "safe level" less than convincing. Knowledge about the effects of chronic exposure to the chemical were not iron clad and a panel that explored the issue was split. 

Organic growers avoided nearly all chemicals and relied on crop rotations, beneficial insects and vacuums to suck up the bugs. (A  NY Times article explains organic methods here). Though their yield was lower, organic farmers were successful because of the premium paid for organic. 

Methyl bromide eventually was phased out under a UN treaty, because it contributed to a hole in the ozone layer. Growers got extensions for years to keep using the chemical but they knew the end was in sight and so turned to other chemicals. Methyl iodide was the most promising, though even conventional growers told me that they thought the chemical was more toxic than methyl bromide. Its saving grace -- no ozone depletion in the atmosphere.

This week, California, which has among the most rigorous pesticide regulations in the nation, approved methyl iodide for use. This came despite the unanimous findings of its own scientific panel against approval of the chemical. California Watch quoted a member of this panel.

"It is my personal opinion that this decision will result in serious harm to California citizens, and most especially to children," wrote panel member Theodore Slotkin, a professor of pharmacology and cancer biology at Duke University.

But the state overruled the panel and found that, based on a risk assessment, the pesticide could be safely used. In doing this, they followed 47 states. Had they outlawed it, California growers no doubt would have argued they were no longer competitive.

Like methyl bromide, methyl iodide is most hazardous to those who use it in the fields and to those who come into contact with its drift. It does not linger, like other pesticides, on the fruit itself. I wonder, if the state or even the EPA, would have thought differently about the pesticide, if there was a consumer risk. Farm workers and farm communities tend to be abstract and distant -- we don't know who these people are. Often, because they are immigrants, they remain silent. We don't attend the schools abutting the fields. I just wonder, if we did, whether the outcome would have been different.

- Samuel Fromartz

Image source: UW Farm blog, "New Study Weighs in on Organic vs. Conventional Debate"

Cold Frame: the 30-minute spinach induced version

After five years of gardening, I finally took the plunge to garden in the winter. Now, I've grown stuff in the winter before, like lettuce, which last year made it through 30-inches of snow and produced full heads in March. Or radishes, kale, and other winter hardy crops.

But this experiment with a cold frame, or small hoop house, was built out of frustration with my inability to grow spinach. For those who live in the mid-Atlantic, or maybe just Washington D.C, you know growing spinach can be tough. Plant it in the early spring and it bolts quickly. Sow seed in late summer for a fall crop and it fails to germinate because it's too hot. 

So I put up this mini-green house. It's very easy, based on a clip system from Territorial Seeds and a greenhouse plastic they also sell. You can get this stuff elsewhere but I had the catalog in front of me so just ordered it from them and both seemed to work well. The kit came with instructions which told me what else I would need.

So, for the size I wanted, I went to the hardware store and bought:

- Ten 2-foot lengths of half-inch rebar, which luckily I did not have to cut myself.

- 1/2-inch drip irrigation tubing. 

To build it, I pounded the rebar into the ground until only a six-inch section was protruding. I then cut the irrigation tubing into 6-1/2 foot lengths, inserting the tubing over the rebar. It naturally bent into the hoop shape. Now the instructions say you don't really need rebar, but I think it adds strength especially when it's windy.

Then I laid the plastic on top and secured it with the clips. 

It took all of 30 minutes, not including the time at the hardware store.

Since the plastic just reached the ground, I got a bale of hay and spread it around the base to add some insulation.

So what am I growing? I seeded bok choi, turnips, beets, and two varieties of spinach to see which one does better. I'm also growing red boston lettuce, spring onions and a few broccoli plants. The broccoli can grow outside but I put them under plastic because it's starting to get cold and the plants are still small. My theory is the heat will give the broccoli a jump to mature in December or January. Then, I'll start sowing my spring crops early.

So much for taking a winter break from gardening. But at least the spinach is coming up nicely!

- Samuel Fromartz

Tartine Bread: the popular San Francisco bakery reveals its technique

Photo: My take on Tartine's whole wheat bread with natural leaven

When you ask about great bakeries in the Bay Area, one place people always mention is Tartine. The bakery makes naturally leavened bread and has the distinction of baking loaves in the late afternoon, so that you can take one home right out of the oven for dinner. Or so I hear. Years ago I tried Chad Robertson's loaves when he up in Point Reyes. At the time, he had a wood fired oven and had built a strong following (a friend took me there on a visit). In fact, a picture of him in front of the hearth with a pile of dark crusty loaves graced the cover of a timeless baking classic, The Bread Builders: Hearth Loaves and Masonry Ovens.

Many years later, Robertson now has his own book, Tartine Bread. He writes:

During those early years in Point Reyes the small bakery was a laboratory for three ingreidients and a world of possibility: flour, water, and coarse grey salt from the Guérande in southwest France. I made most discoveries by exhaustive trial and error, over time gathering each lesson into a simple approach based on what I had learned. The approach was not rigidly scientific, but results were documented by concise shorthand notes and photos of the bread on days when something notable was achieved in crust or crumb. After years of baking in Point Reyes, I made the loaf I was after.

In 2002, Chad and his wife Liz -- a pastry chef -- made the move to the mission district in San Francisco, where they opened Tartine. They baked croissants and quiches in the morning and bread in the afternoon. Although he had to trade the wood-fired oven for a gas-fired deck oven, he wasn't worried. "Any flavor imparted by the wood fire is imaginary," he writes in the book. I would tend to agree, though this is the kind of argument bakers could only settle with a blind tasting and even then would quibble with the results. 

In any case, this summer, the Tartine Bread book arrived in the mail -- an event I had been eagerly awaiting because I was curious about these loaves: loose and airy, a hint of natural leaven, without the acidity common to sourdough. Could it be done at home? After baking on-and-off with the book for a few weeks, I'd say, yes, with a caveat. The results don't come quickly and like all true craft work, you must put in some time to get what you're after. But you will achieve generously airy breads (like the 70% whole wheat loaf pictured above). Barely a month after the book appeared, home bakers produced some notable loaves with his recipes.

Robertson's main departure from standard practice comes with his natural leaven (I'm loathe to use the word sourdough, which is a misnomer, since this leaven is anything but sour). Unlike most leavens made with white flour, he uses 50% white and 50% whole wheat flour. Normally, that would lead to an explosion of activity, since the minerals and bran in whole wheat flour make for a very active starter that can be difficult to master.

But he tackles this problem by doing two things: first mixing a large amount of leaven - 400 grams total, or 2-3 cups - with just a tiny tablespoon of starter. Then he ferments it at a rather cool temperature to reduce its activity. The result is a mildly flavored leaven which when added to the dough inoculates the mix with copious amounts of yeast but has very mild acidic notes. Shining though is the sweetness of the wheat, which is probably why San Franciscans line up to get their hands on this bread. Plus the loaves just look gorgeous, judging from the pictures in the book by Eric Wolfinger.

His mixing and folding technique for the dough and loaves, while not new, is also not particularly well-known, especially when it comes to home bakers. For anyone wanting to avoid the tedium of kneading or using a stand mixer (another gadget you have to wash), his explanation and the pictures go a long way towards explaining this relatively labor-free technique.

Then there's his recommendation of baking in a cast iron combo cooker, which is kind of baking 2.0 compared to Jim Lahey's no-knead method of baking in a Le Cruset pot. The main advantage is that you don't have to drop the loaf into the vessel, which was always a bit troublesome. (Neither of these methods were new -- people have been baking in enclosed vessels for millenium). I don't have a combo cooker (I've come up with other fixes) but I'd be curious to try it.

I do have a few quibbles with the book. The basic recipe works best with a high quality all purpose flour but you don't get that tip until reading the detailed notes that proceed the recipe (so yes, read those notes). If you do use bread flour, the loaf will be tough. Finally, the volumes are generous, so you'll have to do some math to make a smaller loaf. This is especially true for the baguette dough, which at 2,300 grams is enough for 6-8 baguettes. The recipe says 2-3, which would be enormous loaves. I shape baguettes at 250-300 grams to fit my oven, which means I usually mix just over 1,000 grams of dough. 

But these are minor issues. Turn to the recipes at the end and along with the bread, you'll be seduced. Right now, I'm staring at Clarise's Meatball Sandwiches and my stomach is starting to growl. He's also got a savory bread pudding with leaks and mushrooms I'm dying to try (I've got the day-old bread on hand) and a kale ceasar salad, with home-made croutons of course.  

As for the bread recipes, they would be a serious clinic for a beginning baker, which is why I might not tackle this book if trying my first loaf. (It's also why I won't post a recipe: this book is more about technique than adding ingredients together). But if you've made a loaf or two and want to go further, or are simply curious about naturally leavened breads, I could think of no better place to begin. Robertson has graciously opened up his bakery to us, and it would be a shame not to put on an apron and take up his invitation to get busy. 

- Samuel Fromartz

GMO advocates walk out of sustainability standard talks

In an interesting development, advocates of genetically engineered crops have walked out of talks aimed at creating a standard for sustainable agriculture, according to Sustainable Food News.

Apparently, they felt the effort was dominated by "environmental groups, certification consultants, agro-ecology and organic farming proponents."

This tension was present from the beginning of this effort, which aimed to define what "sustainable agriculture" meant. When I first talked to participants a couple of years ago, they felt the talks were important because companies were already using the words without any precise meaning.

Those standards exist for organic food, based on law and regulations, but they are virtually meaningless when it comes to "sustainable agriculture." Obviously, the big questions were whether genetically modified crops, along with organic methods, should be included. It seemed like an untenable divide to bridge.

The "mainstream agriculture" crowd didn't think they were getting sufficient clout in this agicultural standard, so 10 of them withdrew from the effort. They were supported by a bevy of industrial agriculture proponents -- from fertilizer and chemical companies to the Farm Bureau. But here's the thing: 50 people remain.

It will be interesting to see where this effort now leads.

- Samuel Fromartz

Cibatta Recipe, at special request

Here's the receipe for ciabatta, which I negleted in the previous post. In part, I did this because the recipe is usually the least important part in baking and there are many recipes for ciabatta in cookbooks and on the web. (Here's two at Wild Yeast and Breadcetera). Far more important than the recipe is knowing how much to mix, how long to let the dough ferment and how to shape the loaf -- things that you learn the more you bake. But in response to requests here's my latest, which builds over two days to develop flavor. You can see this and other terrific loaves over at Yeastspotting.

Quantity: two loaves, 475 grams each.
Time: 16 hours to rise preferment, 12-24 hours final dough

Formula, baker's percentage

• Flour 100%
• Water 78%
• Instant Yeast 0.4%
• Salt 2%
• Percentage of prefermented flour: 20%

Biga preferment

• 110 grams flour (King Arthur or 365 brand organic all purpose)
• 55 grams water
• Two pinches instant yeast (pinch some between thumb and forefinger, add and repeat)

Mix flour, water and yeast until combined into a stiff ball. Cover and let sit at room temperature for about 16 hours or until ball has expanded but not collapsed.

Final dough

• 420 grams flour
• 360 grams water
• All of biga
• 1/2 teaspoon instant yeast
• 11 grams sea salt

1. Mix flour and water together until combined and no longer lumpy. Let sit for 20 minutes.

2. Add biga by tearing off pieces, then add salt and yeast. Mix until combined for 1-2 minutes. Let rest for 10 minutes. Feel dough to make sure there is no undissolved salt. Mix again until dough is moderately developed -- that is, until you can stretch it but it will tear. You don't want to fully develop the dough because you will build gluten strength in folding. If you mix too much the gluten will be too tight and you won't get those big holes.

3. Place dough in a oiled container and fold at 30 and 60 minutes. By now the dough should be glistening and the gluten fairly well developed. If not, wait another 30 minutes and fold a third time. Then place the container in the refrigerator for 12-24 hours. At the end of this time there should be visible bubbles in the dough of varying size. If not, remove it on the day you're baking and let rise further on counter for 60 minutes.

4. When ready to bake, preheat oven and baking stone to 480F. Place a rimmed sheet pan at the bottom of the oven.

5. Pour the dough out onto a well-floured counter and shape into a rectangle, being careful not to deflate the dough or manipulate it too much. (The more you move the dough around, the less holes you will have). Cut the rectangle in half into two loaves. Carefully move the loaves onto a well-floured couche or board. Sprinkle with flour, cover with plastic wrap or a tea towel and let rise for 45 minutes to 1 hour. When pressed slightly, the dough should spring back slowly.

6. Place parchment paper on a cutting board or peel. Carefully pick the loaves up and invert them onto the parchment paper. (Fish spatulas are great for this, or if using a couche, roll the loaf onto parchment paper). Slide loaves into the oven. Pour 1/2 cup water onto the tray at the bottom of oven. Let bake until well-done, 22-25 minutes.

Here's a video from Wild Yeast Bakery in the U.K. on shaping ciabatta, though I tend to manipulate the dough less than this baker. Still, you can see, he's careful not to deflate the dough.

Ciabatta: All in a day's -- make that two days -- work

I've been working on this Italian ciabatta for a couple of weeks, writing about the process as I go. I'm not sure where it will all end up, but it has been fun. This bread is made with a biga, or a hunk of stiff prefermented dough with a pinch of yeast, that rose for 16 hours. I then mixed the biga into the final dough, which itself rose slowly in the refrigerator for another 19 hours. The result was a light, sweet, and chewy crumb and crisp dark crust that made for a perfect sandwich today -- or actually two. 

Top Chef for Bakers

Chefs get all sorts of attention in competitions, but bread bakers, fugetaboutit! 

But I was recently in Las Vegas for a bread convention - yes, related to the new book I'm working on - and observed a bit of the Louis Lesaffre competition. In this stage, national teams from North and South America competed for two coveted places in the Coupe du Monde in Paris in 2012. USA made the winning spot as did the team from Peru. They will compete against 10 other national teams at the final competition. Background on the competition process is here. 

Bread sculpture by Harry Peemoeller, instructor at Johnson and Wales, Charlotte, NC. Yes, this is all made of bread!

Mike Zakowski, The Baker (Bekjr), Sonoma, CA, with his baguettes, which are obviously central to this competition.

Pictures of Mike Zakowski's breads.

One of Mike's entries was a loaf with bolted whole wheat flour (part of the bran removed) mixed with white flour, flecked with cracked spelt that had been soaked in agave nectar for 12 hours. It was the best bread I had at the entire convention, though there were many great breads. I asked him where he got cracked spelt, since I had never seen it. He said he grinds it himself with a hand grinder. Although he works at Artisan Bakers in Sonoma, he sells his own bread at a farmers' market in Oakland.

I did take pictures of the beautiful viennoiserie made by Jeremey Gadouas, a baker from Bennison’s Bakery, Evanston, IL, but alas they were too blurry.

There was a lot of baking going on outside the competition. Here are a few of the rye breads made by Jeffrey Hamelman, the master baker at King Arthur Flour.

Hamelman's 40% rye, it had nuts and dates I think but I may be wrong. 

Jeffrey Hamelman in a light moment by the deck oven.

Hamelman's 60% rye. The one barely viewed on left has sesame seeds. The scoring (cuts) on these loaves were beautiful.

- Samuel Fromartz