Making Bread with Red Wine: Chianti Pine Nut Bread

Though I wouldn't say that I'm a complete bread noob, I still consider yeast bread a thing of mystery. I have been making yeast bread regularly for 3-4 years now, but it's still a series of hits and misses. For recipes which have proven to work consistently, I have shared them with you on my blog. I'm just hoping you don't ask me why they work for I have no clue. Take this Chianti pine nut bread for example. It works, and I'm thankful for that. I just don't know why.

Not understanding the science of bread making well enough is precisely my problem. I don't recognize what it is that I do right when things turn out well, and I don't know enough to perform accurate autopsies on things that turn out horribly. My bread knowledge and skill are average at best and currently limited to how to check for gluten development (the gluten "window" method) and how to achieve crusty exteriors (baking stone and steam in the oven). When a recipe doesn't yield the desired result, I can't even be sure whether it's the recipe's fault or mine. This is frustrating.


As we all have learned from daytime TV, the lack of wisdom or knowledge in a person is often accompanied by recklessness and impulse. What I am too timid or ignorant to experiment with in life, I make up for those lost thrills by experimenting wildly in the kitchen. I can't recall how I came up with the idea of using red wine in bread, but there I was, thinking about it day and night.

The concept itself isn't too crazy; bakers replace water and milk in bread recipes with other liquids all the time. The execution of it, on the other hand, seemed daunting to me at the time. I'm not the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to bread, but I could see how red wine and the sugar alcohol contained therein would interfere with the yeast fermentation.

With my heart set on making bread with red wine, I started searching for clues from experienced bakers. The only search result that looked good to me was Susan's Red Wine Loaf with Pine Nuts and Figs on Wild Yeast. I thought that was one delicious-looking fruit- and nut-studded red wine loaf. Unfortunately, after one quick read through of the recipe, I came to realize that it was too advanced for me. The recipe is clearly for those who actually know what they're doing. Besides, my palate isn't sophisticated enough to appreciate very dense bread, and I noticed that most of the red wine breads I saw were on the dense side.

Does putting red wine in bread dough always result in low-rising, dense bread? "Curiouser and curiouser!" cried I in the manner of Alice in Wonderland.


Fact: strong curiosity doesn't necessarily translate into tenacity in learning.
That burst of inspiration proved to be short-lived. Within days after the initial excitement, I decided red wine bread was too complicated and threw in the towel even before tasting the bitter tears of failure. I told myself if I really had to have wine-flavored bread, I could always dip my bread in red wine which would be a heck of a lot easier.

Moral: if you're not smart enough to succeed at something, come up with an excuse that's smart enough to convince yourself you're not a failure.

Also fact: curiosity when left unsatisfied often leads to unhealthy obsession.
These past several months after having given up on the idea, I have sometimes found myself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to conjure up an image of a crusty loaf of bread with chewy and open texture, studded with nuts, and fragrant with red wine. I kept wondering what it would be like to pair that bread with some really good cheese and turn it into a gooey, crusty grilled cheese sandwich. I kept thinking of how great the bread would taste with some homemade fruit preserve smeared on it. I couldn't stop thinking how wonderful it would be to bite into a piece of wine-flavored bread with my favorite store-bought truffle goat butter. You see, at that point, my I-can-always-dip-my-bread-in-red-wine excuse started to lose its effectiveness.

Moral: whatever it is you want to do, just do it. And quickly.


You know how sometimes when you know too much about something, you tend to over-think it? I'm glad to report that I didn't have that problem when I was making this bread. Approaching the unfamiliar task with the confidence of a seasoned matador and the wisdom of a toilet seat, I shushed the voices of reason, whipped out my go-to white bread recipe, and proceeded to replace the water it called for with equal amount of leftover, room temperature, Chianti. To make the project even more dare-devilish, I told my KitchenAid mixer to take a break; I'd knead the blessed dough by hand.


To my surprise, it worked. For the most part, I am very pleased with the result. The exterior was crusty and the interior is chewy and delicious. The bread doesn't taste of red wine, but it is certainly fragrant of it. I really love the way it tastes.

And, oh, remember those things I used to lie in bed wondering about, i.e. whether it makes a good grilled cheese sandwich together with a good cheese or whether it goes well with homemade fruit preserves or compound butter? I wonder no more. The answer is affirmative on all counts.

So I guess red wine can be used in lieu of water or milk in some bread recipes. The only thing different was that it took the dough 5 hours to double during each rise. I started this bread in the morning and it was done around bedtime. But here are some questions for you experienced bakers out there who I hope would kindly educate this average baker: What do you think of the texture? Could it be more open? How can I create a more open texture?



Chianti Pine Nut Bread [This post has been submitted to Yeastspotting.]
(Makes one 2-lb loaf)
Downloadable Version

• Mix together on the counter top, 3.5 cups of bread flour, 2 teaspoons active dry yeast, 2 tablespoons sugar, and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt. Make a well in the center.
• Lightly beat together 1 cup of room temperature Chianti (or other dry red wines), one large egg, and 1/4 cup (4 tablespoons/ 2 ounces) softened butter.
• Pour the wet mixture into the center of the dry mixture and knead, adding more flour as needed to achieve a smooth dough.
• Knead. Knead. Knead. Knead some more until the dough is smooth and elastic.
• Knead in 1/2 cup of raw pine nuts.
• Form the dough into a ball, place it in a greased bowl, cover with a piece of plastic wrap, and let it rise in a warm spot until doubled in volume. Depending on how cold or warm your house is, this could take up to five hours.
• Punch down the dough and form into an oval loaf. Dust the outside with flour. Cover the dough with a kitchen towel and let it rise once more until doubled in volume. Again, this could take another five hours.
• Preheated the oven to 375°F. With a sharp knife, make decorative slashes on the surface of the loaf. (I think I went a bit too crazy with it.)
• Bake the bread on a baking stone dusted with cornmeal or a baking sheet lined with a piece of parchment paper.
• Every 10 minutes or so, throw a few ice cubes onto the oven floor to create steam.
• The bread should be browned, crusty, and sound hollow when tapped after 40-45 minutes in the oven.
• Remove the bread from the oven and let the finished loaf cool completely on a cooling rack before slicing.