The Only Focaccia I Make Anymore

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I chased complicated focaccia for years — poolish, stretch-and-folds, spreadsheets. Then a farmer at the market told me hers rises in the fridge while she milks the goats, and I never looked back.

Let the fridge do the kneading

Mix the dough in five minutes after supper. It sleeps overnight, you sleep overnight, and by morning it has done all the work itself. Press it into a well-oiled pan with your fingertips like you’re playing a very slow piano.

Rosemary from the pot on the sill, flaky salt, and more olive oil than feels respectable. The crust shatters; the crumb sighs. That’s the whole show.

written by

Dewelle

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