Thank you, James Lipton
RIP James Lipton
A lot of people may not know the name James Lipton, but they’ve probably seen his face and know one of his most notable contributions to the world - Inside the Actors Studio. As a teenager in the Midwest, bible-belt of Kentucky, his work opened a door into the dream known as Hollywood. Each episode was a masterclass on the creative process of acting and directing. The questions asked by this master interview and the subsequent stories that followed offered a rare artistic insight into a craft that has been more and more focused on the profitability of film, reminding us that an artist is still at the heart of the work. He took these titans of the craft and brought them back, humanizing them while still holding them in high esteem. He had an uncanny way of cutting straight to the heart of his interviewee. Because he was a peer with an insight into the process and the creative mind, his interviews were less threatening and less gotcha. They were a safe space for openness and honesty, free of judgment, only seeking to educate an audience of young and eager actors and directors.
With our current state of identity politics and a culture obsessed with outrage and judgment, what I may miss most is the civility that came with his compassion for the guests he welcomed into the actor’s studio. His candid conversations were a welcome dose of civility and inspiration. It seems to me that more and more we expect purity, both in morality and in action, from those we hold in such high regard, but what James Lipton explored was the humanity behind the stars and by reflection the humanity within ourselves. We are flawed creatures and to be held to an unattainable standard is not healthy. It alienates us from each other and doesn’t allow us to be true to ourselves, forcing us to always don a facade that we can’t even let down when we’re alone. He highlighted a need for introspection; an examination of our own actions and perhaps most of all, a need to forgive ourselves for not being perfect. Perfection is the enemy of character, of depth. Perfection is boring. It’s through strife and challenge that we become better people. Pretending to be perfect prevents us from doing the deeper work on ourselves.
That’s what James Lipton represented to me. Decency, compassion, and integrity. A Mister Rogers for those aspiring to hone their craft of film. He was not controversial, he was not attention-seeking. His brand was to not be a brand. He made a name for himself in a way that seems long forgotten: through respect. He was respected by every icon that graced his stage. When the tables were turned, James Lipton called on someone that most would not have expected - Dave Chappelle - to interview him. This was a man that had the greats of film history in his chair. Brando, Pacino, DeNiro, Hopkins - and he chose a comedian most well known for his proclivity for weed, running from the spotlight, and unique brand of comedy. But perhaps that shouldn’t have been unexpected in retrospect. Chappelle is a man of uninhibited sensibilities. He, like Lipton, is not enamored with fame. He went to Africa to prevent himself from being devoured by the business of Hollywood. He too was a craftsman and an introspective person first.
In his exchanges with Dave Chappelle, James Lipton lost a bit of himself. He was no longer the highbrow interviewer. He was boyish in his amusement. James Lipton let his guard down in a way that his guests had let their guards down. There was a mutual admiration that extended beyond the craft of acting and entertainment. A connection of intellectual curiosity for the weirdness of the idea of celebrity, to which they both privy to in their own ways.
It’s a rare person that can be around so much celebrity and greatness but still maintain an intentional distance from it. He was a giant in his own right, but unlike others that I would associate him with, like Roger Ebert, he never sought that spotlight for himself. He was a lesson in modesty even while being exceptional.
That’s something we could use more of in the world today.
In closing, I’m going to list the questions that he asked at the end of every interview. And in honor of his spirit of modesty, I’m going to leave the answers blank. Because sometimes the answers are far less important than the questions behind them.
What is your favorite word?
What is your least favorite word?
What turns you on?
What turns you off?
What sound or noise do you love?
What sound or noise do you hate?
What is your favorite curse word?
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
What profession would you not like to do?
If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?
The Definitely Non-Definitive, Highly Subjective List of the 20-ish Greatest Halloween Movies Ever (In My Opinion)
My required viewing list for the season of spook.
As you can tell from the title of this post, I’m already defending myself for the backlash that could stem from this (for some reason) highly controversial topic. It seems like anytime you tack the words “greatest” and “list” together, people come out of the woodwork to call you out for missing out on some either obvious or obscure flicks that no list of Halloween movies should be without. To you, I say: You realize there are way worse things in the world to get upset about, right?
Yet here I am, taking the time out of my day-to-day life to give you my picks for the greatest Halloween movies ever made, simply because I friggin' love Halloween. It brings some serious nostalgia percolating to the surface. It signals to me that Fall has truly arrived and 'tis the season to be cozy. It's apple orchards, pumpkin patches, gourds, and nature's signal to just kick back with a mug of hot cider and watch the leaves change.
So, I’m going to give you a list of movies that I think should be essential viewing for getting in the All Hallow’s Eve spirit (pun intended). And like all proper lists, this shit is numbered. Yet unlike proper lists, the numbers are not meant to denote an order of awesomeness.
#7. Donnie Darko
Some people may not consider this a Halloween movie. They’re wrong, but they may not consider it a Halloween movie. This 80’s period piece has all the undefined pre-requisites to be on this list. Costumes? Check. Halloween party? Check. Some supernaturalishness going on? Check. Killer soundtrack well suited to Halloween? Check. A bit of the ol’ creep factor? Check. Pedophilia?Scratch that last one.
#5. Ghostbusters
This one should be pretty self-explanatory, but lets go with it. When I think of Halloween, I think of ghosts, goblins, witches, werewolves, jack o’ lanterns, and Bill Murray. The main theme of the movie is about as synonymous with Halloween as you can get. I challenge you to go to a Halloween party and not hear “When there’s something strange, in your neighborhood...Who ya gonna call...GHOSTBUSTERS!” If you now have that stuck in your head, you’re welcome.
#2. Fun Size
This was a late addition to the list. You may notice a bit of a theme with a lot of these movies (all but four actually): They’re made before the year 2000. So this one might be a bit of an outlier. It’s also not scary in the slightest. It’s just good old fashioned Halloween-done-modern in a way that does a pretty darn good job of capturing the spirit of the night. It’s a teeny-bopper rom-com of an MTV movie, but it’s enjoyable across the board. I recommend it if you haven’t already seen it.
#1. Hocus Pocus
Now this is one that I would call a damn near requirement for getting into the Halloween spirit. Fun fact, this was the first movie I remember seeing by my lonesome in theaters. If I was a woman, I’d go as one of the Sanderson sisters for Halloween every year. Since I’m not a woman, the one time was enough. This movie captures the exact spirit of Halloween that I remember as a kid. Halloween is a night when the parents would fade away and everything I knew was turned upside down. This movie is an adventure, coming of age story, family movie that always gives me the Halloween warm fuzzies. Halloween isn’t only about the scare, it’s about the nostalgia.
#3. Trick R’ Treat
I’ve reviewed this recently, so I’m just going to say, I really hope they do a sequel to this movie because the world needs more classically awesome Halloween films.
#6. Halloween
Pretty aptly named and on the nose, this film is a classic in the horror genre for good reason. Despite being one of the first 70’s slasher flicks, the actual amount of slashing isn’t nearly as bad as you might think. This movie relies heavily on the creepy, voyeur scare that is sadly lacking in today’s scary movie. John Carpenter knew how to build up suspense so when the slashing did start, you were primed for the scare. The shot of Michael Myers standing in silhouette under that houses awning, with the backlighting of the porchlight is as foreboding and creepy today as it was then.
#4. Stephen King's It
As rave as the reviews were around the remake - and deservedly so - the remake just lacked the same level of creep that the old movie had. Pennywise was creepy, but there was just this sense that everyone was really going to be okay. In the original, the cutting between the younger and older versions of the character really played up just how traumatized they were from the experience. They were legitimately traumatized in a way that felt completely real. Sure, the film looks like an 80’s movie filled with 80’s actors, but that just lends to the nostalgia of the film and it’s spiritual attachment to Halloween.
#8. It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
This is a straight-up nostalgia pick. It has that 70’s animation that just triggers something so visceral to my memory, even though I was born in the 80’s. When I watch it, I am transported to Michigan in the fall, picking apples in an orchard, eating fresh cinnamon sugar donuts, and then picking out the perfect pumpkin to carve in that stereotypical pumpkin face (you know the one I’m talking about).
#10. Scream
Not really a Halloween movie in and of itself, but this movie always gets added to my October viewing list. It’s the rebirth of the slasher flick that does a pretty good job of making you really question who the killer might be. It gave us the 90’s scream queens and really defined horror in the 90’s and early 2000’s before torture porn became all the rage. It was scary and real, but in that Hollywood “real” kind of way. It is horror escapism at its best.
#11. The Evil Dead
The movie that gave us Bruce Campbell as Ash. Also the movie that gave us Sam Raimi. This thing is ridiculous, campy, and the father of a thousand tropes that still exist to this day. It spawned the most ridiculous sequel that is so far removed from the source material, it’s hard to call it a sequel. But it’s a classic for all those reasons.
#12. Halloweentown
Kind of in the same school as Hocus Pocus. It’s a good Halloween movie for kids, with no risk of lifelong psychological trauma. Because I hear psychological trauma is a bad thing for children. Wish someone had told my parents that.
#15. Children of the Corn
We go from not traumatizing children to being traumatized by children. I blame this movie for instilling me with an unshakable belief that all children are in fact evil. I have yet to find any proof to the contrary. Watch this flick before you have children and you will never need to be reminded to use birth control again. Once you get older, you’ll forget the lessons or this movie and opt to get with the baby making. My hope is that while you are sitting there, holding your precious little genetic spawn, the memory of this movie creeps into the back of your head. Good luck sleeping for the next 18 years.
#22. The Thing
This is one of my all-time favorite horror films (the John Carpenter version). It has that perfect amount of 80’s you want in a John Carpenter film. It has practical effects and no CGI. It’s one of my three favorite Kurt Russell films and is just perfect in so many ways. It, like Scream, makes you question what you think you know. Who is “the thing”? The scene when they’re testing the blood is still amazing to this day. Sure the practical effects may not be as realistic as what CGI can do today, but I think that is one of the things that makes the film special.
#17. E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial
Recently called “garbage” by a millennial friend of mine (former friend, I should say). I wore out not one, but two VHS copies of this movie as a kid. I was filled with awe and wonder, watching this iconic film set in a land that was about as alien to me as the title character. It has a sense of whimsy that still holds up today. Sure, it’s all practical effects. Sure, ET may have looked more realistic as a CGI creature, but then again, would we really want him to? In many ways, this movie spawned a generation of not-so-scary takes on aliens that allowed us to go outside on a cloudless night and not fear the great unknown. If only Spielberg had done the same for sharks.
#56. The Amityville Horror (Take your pick, original or remake)
Perhaps controversially, I prefer the remake with Ryan Reynolds. It has all the tropes of a good suspenseful horror and some gore to go with it. The funny thing is, only one living creature actually dies in the movie, which goes to show that you don’t need to litter the screen with dead bodies to pull off a really scary movie. It somehow manages to make me terrified of old houses while simultaneously making me really want one. Does that make me a sociopath?
#22. Friday the 13th
Jason. This guy has done almost as much for hockey in the U.S. as Wayne Gretzky did when he was traded to the Los Angeles Kings. If you don’t know who Wayne Gretzky is, he’s like the Michael Jordan of basketball. For those of you who don’t know who Michael Jordan is, he’s like the older version of Lebron James without the trade theatrics. Anyway, I digress. Jason, the man in the goalie mask. The man who made us all thankful we were teenage virgins because everyone knows that making the whoopie means getting brutally slaughtered by some dude that hangs out at a Summer camp.
#14. The Witches
Before Wes Anderson, before The Addams’ Family, Anjelica Huston haunted my dreams because of this film. Anjelica Huston starred as the Grand High Witch in a coven/convention of witches. A little boy stumbles on the secret and gets turned into a mouse. Ahh, what used to be spooky. Added bonus, Mr. Bean is in it as not-Mr. Bean. Oh and it’s based on a Roald Dahl book to boot. Straight up childhood favorite.
#45. Idle Hands
Jessica Alba in all her Jessica Alba-ness. And a devil possessed hand that wants what the devil wants. Hijinks ensue. Plus it’s got Fulton from Mighty Ducks. And that one guy from Final Destination that kind of disappeared from movies. The real question here is: What happened to Devon Sawa?
#32. Bugs Bunny’s Broomstick Bunny
It’s only like 7 minutes long and probably shouldn’t be included on a list of best Halloween movies. But I have two words for you: Bugs Bunny. I do not feel the need to defend my choice any further.
#18. Ernest Scared Stupid
Trolls and Jim Varney. It’s a match made in heaven. Now, truthfully, I have not revisited this cinematic masterwork in a number of years, but I do remember it fondly and it definitely scores the nostalgia points in my heart of hearts. Do Halloween right, get some Ernest in your night.
#21. Stir of Echoes
So you know that “I see dead people” movie that was SOOOOO popular with its completely “unexpected” twist that NO ONE saw coming? This movie came out around the same time and is far and away the better of the two. Both deal with the idea of seeing beyond the veil, but this movie does it in such a creepier way that it’s hard not to hate the other one for stealing the spotlight (kind of like Armageddon overshadowing Deep Impact). Plus The Sixth Sense is the reason why we have The Village, Lady in the Water, and whatever other junk Mr Shymalan has seen fit to golden shower down upon us. Except Unbreakable though. That movie was good. But this movie is better. To be fair, the last third isn’t as good as the first third, but that first third is great.
#28. An American Werewolf in London
Werewolves had to make it on this list somewhere of course. And this might be the best, if not tied for the best, werewolf movie ever made. The transformation scene alone makes this film deserve a place on this list. Every time I watch that scene I feel the pain. It also shows the beauty of what practical effects can be.
#88. The Exorcist
I don’t know that a movie has caused more nightmares than The Exorcist except for maybe Kirk Cameron’s Saving Christmas. This movie has spawned countless exorcist themed movies. But let’s not hold that against the original. The Exorcist, by today’s standards, probably isn’t all that scary. Much in the same way Star Wars to kids today is just a bunch of terrible effects and glow sticks. But go back to the 70’s when this movie came out and it’s a completely different story. People were leaving the theater scared, shaking, crying, throwing up, and fainting. Some claim it also holds the record for “film to have caused the most heart attacks”. Sounds like a new Oscar category to me.
So that rounds out my non-ranked list of the 20+2 subjectively perfect Halloween films ever created.
I know what you’re thinking: Derrick, how can you make a list of the greatest Halloween movies and neglect: vampires, zombies, mummies, and all the other classic Halloween creatures? Let me explain:
Zombies - Can we really claim these are Halloween-centric anymore? When I think of zombies now, I don’t think about Halloween. I think about half-eaten carcasses rotting in the hot Summer sun. I think about science experiments gone wrong. While they are most certainly a category of horror, I just don’t think they really line up with the spirit of Halloween anymore. They’re not supernatural, they’re pseudo-science. But to appease the masses here’s some honorable mentions from the zombie genre: Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, 28 Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, Zombieland, About Schmidt.
Vampires - This one might be a bit harder to defend my position, especially since I went as a vampire on Halloween multiple times as a child. So here’s my rationale. Do vampires hold some special place in the annals of Halloween? Of course they do. So why would I leave them off? With the exception of Nosferatu, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and maybe The Lost Boys, do the other Vampire movies really scream Halloween? Let’s not forget, the entire genre has been Y.A.’d to death with the likes of Twilight, Vampire Diaries, and True Blood. Vampires aren’t scary anymore. They’re a category of gothic fetish porn. Even Let the Right One In can’t wipe the memory of Sparkles McFangFang from my brain.
A Random and Seemingly Out of Season Review of "Trick R Treat"
What should be a cult Halloween classic for all. I’m here to preach the gospel of Samhain. Hashtag Devil Horns
I know what you're thinking, why in the world would I be reviewing a box office bomb from 2007 about Halloween in the early bit of August?
That's a great question. The short answer: I just watched it again, so it seemed somewhat appropriate.
The long answer:...
I've always been a lover of Halloween. Growing up in the 80's and 90's, Halloween wasn't some torture porn fest like it seems to be now. It wasn't lawns riddled with realistic corpses or Rob Zombified interpretations of All Hollow's Eve. It was a time of costumed kids running around with minimal parental supervision on a chilly night (yes, we actually did our trick or treating at night back then). The neighborhoods of my youth got as into it as the kids, in part out of mutual celebration and in part out of fear of being targeted for the trick portion of trick or treat. I remember the rush to hit as many houses as possible in hopes of filling our candy coffers for the next few months, even wearing rollerblades to cover as much area as possible.
The best way to get a kid to do chores in the 80s/90s
The decorations were harmless. Cartoonish black cats, pumpkins with all manner of non-terrifying carvings, friendly ghosts and non-haunt-your-dreams style witches on broomstick. No bloodiness, nothing meant to haunt a kid's dreams and rack up a serious psychiatrist's bill later on in life.
No, the holiday mixed with our imaginations was enough. Kids would have sleepovers telling ghost stories, watching creepy movies, staying up way too late and playing "light as a feather" or the old reliable Ouija board. There was a youthful innocence and a healthy kind of fear you can only get from the intangible unknown.
Since I've gotten older, I've noticed a shift in all things Halloween. It's shifted more towards the brutal, celebrating the real kind of scary, bordering on offensive. Fewer houses handing out candy, opting for Trunk or Treat events hosted by locals for the fear of abducted children or the convenience of parents, I don't know. And fewer and fewer kids showing up wearing actual costumes at my door. It hurts my inner nostalgia.
So where does this movie I referenced some 350 words ago come into play?
Nostalgia.
Absolutely ridiculous, but awesome
The atmosphere of the film is straight out of my childhood. Those autumn hues of red, orange, and yellow, mixed with that chilly fog of an October night. All the houses (save one) are decorated to the nines with the best that my childhood memories have to offer. It's a free for all of shirking responsibility and captures a night that is rife with that supernatural kind of terror that we only really feel as kids. It's the perfect level of campy, retro, cheesy gore that I loved growing up. It wasn't realistic, it was fun, which can best be seen in the first story shown in the anthology film. The deaths are so over the top that they don't feel real, they feel supernatural. That's what I want out of Halloween. Irrational fear.
The movie also nicely captures Halloween from the perspective of 5 different age groups, each delivering on a different level of "scare" that is appropriate for the age range. My personal favorite involves the group of kids that decide to scare a local girl and end up getting what's coming to them. It's also definitely the creepiest of the stories in the movie. But each story shows the evolution of the part Halloween plays in our lives in a campy way, while also reminding us what Halloween is supposed to be.
This movie hits my nostalgia in every way possible. The setting, the set design, the performances, the music (such a great throwback score), the costumes, everything. It's really a shame that this thing didn't get the release it deserved, but I'm damn happy that it has found the cult following that it has. I try to share this movie around as much as possible (hence writing a somewhat long-winded review about it.)
This movie should be required Halloween viewing for every devotee to Halloween. I'm afraid that Halloween is slipping away and losing importance to us, which is a shame. Halloween, while on its surface may seem like a celebration of "evil", represents something much more than that. It's a celebration of the ridiculous, an opportunity to be a community, and a chance to forget about all those rational fears for one night. We live with a real sense of terror most days, so why not embrace some ridiculous for one night.
And never let anyone tell you that August is too early to start celebrating everything that Fall has to offer.
P.S. Look for my coming lists of recommended (read: required) Holiday viewing. Trust me, I know my shit.
Bucky F*cking Dent - An Atypical Review
Just a humble recommendation from me to you
I just finished a book by Hank Moody - nee David Duchovny - clickbaitly titled Bucky F*cking Dent. I say clickbait without the usual stigma. The inner 12-year-old can't resist a book with some variation of F*ck in the title. That 12-year-old snickering miscreant in me has served me quite well thus far in the literary realm. Bucky F*cking Dent did not disappoint.
I know what you're thinking. The X-Files/Californication/Evolution (in the running for most underrated comedy in years, in my opinion) wrote a book? Hollywood privilege rears its ugly face yet again. I love David Duchovny, and I'll be honest, I had the same thought. Who does this Actor think he is? Stay on the TV, thespian. Dance for me little clown, dance.
I know. Actors are people, too. Truth be told, I love actors and respect the shit out of their craft. I've worked with them and I couldn't do what they do. So maybe the collective "ugh" we all say when an actor decides to branch out from the visual medium into a different milieu is a bit more tied to talent envy than legitimate skepticism. Then again, it could just be a natural reaction to presumed self-importance (looking at you Gwyneth Paltrow).
So it was with a fair bit of skepticism intermingled with hope that I picked up a copy of David Duchovny's Bucky F*cking Dent. It's Duchovny's second book, so I tempered my expectations against the relative newness of his literary agenda.
I didn't need to. The book was f*cking great.
I don't want to provide spoilers to the plot details, but it deals with a father and son coming to terms as the father faces that hooded figure draped in black. Set in the late-70's, in an era defined by backsliding into shitty impulses and general uneasiness, the story uses Baseball to connect this very personal story to the outside world and history. Life, love, sex, mild drug use, and snappy dialogue. I dig it.
David Duchovny's writing never feels laborious. The words strung together, sometimes drifting with the waft of smoke from a freshly lit joint, seem to echo the voice of the author and character. In your head you feel David Duchovny reading you this heart-felt lullaby through the eyes of what could have been a different form of himself had life take a few different turns. Like the best writers you can feel the author's voice taking the form of the character he's birthed into the world. A father raising a child. What starts in a Duchovnian voice, the character grows until all you hear is Lord Fenway, El Spleenter, - Ted. He wasn't discovering his voice, he was birthing it.
Duchovny sardonically and sarcastically connects you to a story that, by the end, is full of so much heart you can't help but get a bit misty-eyed. He strips away the jadedness in such a smooth way that you feel yourself getting lighter by the end. He teaches you about morality, humanity, sexuality, and mortality without sounding preachy.
So put on some Grateful Dead, light up a joint and sink your teeth into Bucky F*cking Dent. I was always a fan of David Duchovny, whether in the form of Mulder or Moody. Hell, I wanted this book to be Hank Moody. But I found something I wasn't expecting:
David F*cking Duchovny.
Bread by Man (Me)
2500 Words on the Joy of bread-making with a disorganized recipe mixed in.
I thought for the sake of proving my point about forgoing those pesky gender stereotypes that float in our collective psyche like herpes on Spring Break, I’d start off this HTML party with the art of making the finest of goods: Bread.
Somewhere in our history, some lucky bastard stumbled upon the gloriousness that comes from the milling of wheat (a golden rod of grass looking plant), combining it with water, beating it to within an inch of your own life, and all the while imbibing it with the tiny organism we now know as yeast, or as a fancy scientist may refer to it, a leavening agent. People talk about the pyramids as being a sign of some ancient alien influence, but we never propose the idea that those alien bastards may have actually been the ones that introduced us to yeast. Triangular structures are indeed “cool” and undoubtedly spectacular, but bread is something akin to magic. There is no other substance to my knowledge that gains nutrient and quality through the production process quite like bread. With some finely pulverized flour from a variety of plant-based life, some water of a hospitable temperature, and some sugar hungry little organisms, we can create little crusty clouds of sustenance.
You may be asking yourself, “but DK, why would I, being of sound mind and body, make my own bread, when I can get a load of Wonderbread for $1.99 at my local Walmart?” That’s a good question. To which I posit: is the name of this post “Things from the Store Bought by Man”?
But outside of the verbal threat, there are a number of good reasons to learn to make your own bread. One is that fresh bread is not the same as a store bought loaf. Fresh bread is fresh bread. Store bought bread is a plastic bag filled with ingredients. Don’t worry this isn’t some lecture on the dangers of preservatives in processed food (though it’s a fair point in some cases). My point is that life, my dear reader, is too short to waste of shitty loaves. Grab life by the horns and make some deliciousness. You’re worth it.
Another reason, is cost. Of course there is a trade off between cost and convenience. I’m not recommending that the $2 you save by making bread at home is the primary motivator here, though it is something to consider. We’ll often drive 20 minutes our of our way to save $.02 a gallon on fuel, but scoff at the idea of “cooking from scratch”. Be a more logical human being, it’ll do you some good. So you have an afternoon off from work? Why not make some bread. It’s a fair bit more rewarding than looking at another dozen memes on your social media feeds. But to keep your attention, here’s a joyful bread based meme for your ADHD enjoyment.
So what are some other reasons to make your own bread? Here’s a nice tidy list:
1.) You become the god of the culinary arts, deciding the fate of millions of tiny microorganisms.
2.) Your house will smell like a bakery (on the cost front, you’re essentially getting a free candle that you can eat)
3.) Sheer sexiness. I’ve yet to encounter a member of the human race that hasn’t had their nether region get a bit tingly at the thought of a human, working some sticky dough to completion
4.) It’s a great excuse to watch the Great British Baking Show on PBS
5.) It’s a work out.
6.) Did I mention the sexiness?
7.) The satisfaction of making something (I could hyperlink this to some musings on Marxism and the connection to our work, but just take my word for it)
8.) You will never have a fresher bite of bread in your entire life (until you make your next loaf)
Breadmaking is addictive. I know we live in this Keto/Atkins world, where the carb is the arch enemy of the 6 pack. But don’t blame the bread. Blame the complacency of sitting all day at a desk only to buy an enriched loaf of Wonderbread. The Mediterranean diet has proven to be the healthiest diet on the planet. Guess what: they eat carbs. Don’t blame the bread. Blame yourself. Harsh talk from a chubby dude.
So with that disclaimer and guilt trip, lets get into the sensual art of bread(love)making:
What I’m going to be teaching today is pretty much the most basic of basic breads. No frills, no thrills. Just a standard white loaf that you’ll devour within 24 hours of making. Let’s start with what equipment you’ll knead (bread joke, self high five):
My preferred method for making this bread is in a dutch oven. If you don’t have one, I pity your poor soul. Get one. Now. I’ll wait (Cue the Jeopardy music).
Oh good, you’re back. We were about to move on without you.
Next thing you’ll need is a sieve/sifter. Damn it, you don’t have that either?! You’re holding up the class. We’ll wait...again (cue the toe tapping and clock watching)
Bout time.
So now, we start with the dough. First what you need is 4 cups of all-purpose flour. If you’re wondering what all-purpose flour is for, it’s all-purpose. In this case, it’s purpose is making this bread. Good job, flour, you rock.
Side note: there is a shit-ton of flour out there. I’m not talking quantities. I’m talking varieties. Strong, Bread, Wheat, Whole Wheat, Almond, the list is almost endless. This recipe, should it precipitate the reaction I hope it does, will lead you down the path of learning and experimenting. Enjoy and remember to be active. This is a Keto world now.
So where was I? Ah yes. 4 cups of all-purpose flour. Get your sifter/sieve and sift that shit into a big bowl. Crack a Scarface joke. You’ll see what I mean.
So now you’ve got your 4 cups of beautifully sifted flour. Take a bit of salt, about half a teaspoon, and add it to the left side of the flour. Salt, if you didn’t know, can kill yeast. Keep them separated until you start mixing all that powdery goodness into each other. Next, add 1 and a half teaspoons (not tablespoons) of yeast to the mix. I’ve used both bread machine yeast and standard yeast and the only difference I’ve seen is the negligible. Now, get your handy dandy measuring cups and get 1.5 cups of lukewarm water. Hot will kill the yeast. Cold will not wake their busy little asses up. Think Florida winter. 70-75 degrees is perfect. Now pour that lukewarm water into the flour, yeast, salt mountain.
Start a mixing. I have upgraded my game to a Kitchenaid Stand Mixer so for me, it’s attach a dough hook and let that thing go crazy for about 12-15 minutes on medium. If you don’t have said stand mixer, get your hands in there and start working it. It will stick to your fingers. Keep working it. It will take a long time. Keep working it. Eventually it will start to stick to itself and less to you. Keep working it. When you’re think you’re done, keep working it. The texture of the dough should become less sticky and pretty smooth. Keep working it. When you are running the risk of sweating into the dough, pull off a piece of the dough and stretch it. What you’re doing here is called The Window Pane Test. You want the dough to have been worked enough to where you can stretch it out and light will come through. The scientific side of this lies in the Gluten, that thing that all Californians seem to think is evil and will lead to the downfall of humanity, even moreso than those Autism causing vaccines (whoops, there’s the political). Gluten builds up in dough when you work it and essentially creates a fibrousness in the dough. That’s that lovely chewy texture you get in bread that allows for creation of air pockets. It’s a beautiful symphony of edible goodness. And damn those Californians for saying otherwise. Bread is life.
So you’ve worked yourself into a sweaty, flour covered stupor, the dough passed the Window Pane Test and you’re looking at this smooth little ball of dough in your bowl. Now what?
Now you let mother nature do her good work. This my friends is what I like to call “the waiting recreation”. Cover your bowl with a damp towel or plastic wrap and set the bowl in a nice warm place, around 75 degrees. If you’re like most human beings, that’s on the counter at room temperature. Now you get to wait for 2-4 hours for that concoction to do it’s thing and double in size. This is the yeast’s shift. Enjoy. Do whatever you’d like. Read a book, play a video game, read another post or video from your new favorite blog (I mean mine, you traitorous scum. How dare you click away from me.)
*Intermission*
Welcome back. Lift up that towel. What do you see? Hopefully a bigger pile of dough. Now it’s time for what is known as “the turn out”. First prep your work space, aka floured work surface. This is the messy bit. Take a bit of flour and sprinkle it ever so generously onto the countertop. Spread it around like a child playing in spilled paint. Not take that ginormous ball of risen goodness and pull it out of that bowl. I’ve found that taking my fingers and running them nail side against the bowl to detach it from the bowl seems to work great, but whatever works for you. Plop that ball on that floured work surface. Now what?
Now, more kneading. What we’re trying to do here is to knock the air out of the dough, so punch it down, beat it, fold it, beat it some more. All in all, about 10 minutes should do. More if you’re not taking out your aggressions on it like I do. Less if you’re really repressing some dark shit. Once it’s sufficiently deflated and you’ve bypassed the need for a shrink for another day, form it into a ball on the work surface. Cover it with a warm damp (not wet) towel. Leave it for about 10-15 minutes. What we’re doing here is letting the gluten relax. Think of gluten like your muscle. You just worked that shit out, so not it’s tense. Once it relaxes, it’ll be more flexible.
After your 10-15 minutes of crying alone in your bedroom because of all the repressed stuff that came up from your overly aggressive dough beating, come back to the ball o’ dough. You’ll probably notice that it’s rebounded a bit, just like your ability to repressed emotions. This is a good thing. The dough ball. Not your emotions, seriously, get help. It’s not healthy to keep that stuff bottled up.
Take that newly bought and soon to be lifelong soulmate of culinary delight, the Dutch Oven and spray the inside with some kind of cooking oil/spray.
Now go back to your dough ball. Work the ball with your hands to try and get a tight ball of dough. Don’t think baseball, think nerf basketball size.
Next, plop that new, slightly smaller ball into the center of the dutch oven and cover it. Waiting game, phase 3 has begun. Allow the yeast to re-rise for 30min to an hour depending on the temp of your abode. The warmer, the less time it takes. The colder, the more time it takes.
In the meantime, preheat your over to 450 degrees fahrenheit. In Celsius, that’s whatever google tells you it is equivalent to.
Once the next wait is over and the oven is preheated, remove the lid and lightly brush some olive oil onto the top of the dough. Then take a sharp knife and score an “X” across the top. Not too big, but not too small. How’s that for precise. Now sprinkle some kosher salt on the top. Be as generous as you’d like. Now cover it, and slide your heavy, dough-filled dutchy into the oven.
Bake for 40-45 minutes.
After 40-45 minutes, reduce the temperature to 375 and remove the lid. Bake that bad boy until the top is as golden brown as you like and the internal temperature is around 200 degrees Fahrenheit.
Once it’s that crispy, crunchy level of goldenness that you so desire, pull it out of the oven. Carefully pull the loaf out of the dutch oven if you can and set it aside to cool.
If you’re like me, that first loaf will not be allowed to fully cool before cutting into it. This is a heavenly mistake. Those first few slices will be so chewy and moist and warm like the most delicious thing you’ve ever experienced. You’ll want to make sweet yeasty love to that bread with your mouth. Do it. Enjoy it. Reap your rewards young padawan. You’ve earned it.
But note that I said heavenly “mistake”. It’s a mistake because when you cut into a hot loaf, what you’re doing is letting all the moisture out, which will lead to a drier bread after the fact. But let’s be honest. Much like the first time you have sex, your first loaf of bread will be rushed into, finished far too fast, and leave you wanting more. It will also be memorable in a way that will seem all too surreal. When you look back years later, despite your skills being honed and being more pleasurable for all those experiencing it, will never be quite as magical as your first time...making bread from scratch.