I will never made Brioche dough by hand. Ever. For the amount of work you put in, I just don’t think it’s worth it. Instead, I plan to use my Kitchenaide if I ever have a hankering for this yeasty, buttery bread.

It all starts out innocently enough. Make a large well with flour on the countertop. In the middle, put sugar in one corner and salt in another. Why you ask? So if you get interrupted and can’t remember which ingredients you’ve added, you can simply taste the piles and know what’s what. Next add the eggs to the center and then the yeast mixed in a bit of milk. Never have your yeast come in direct contact with sugar or salt. If it does, the yeast will eat itself to death. Nice thought huh?

Using your fingertips, gently mix the ingredients in the center together. Then gradually mix in the flour bit by bit. And this is where it gets entertaining. Once you form a rough ball, begin kneading vigorously for the next 20 minutes. Sounds simple, yes? But wait, there’s more!

The dough isn’t a nice supple mass that gives easily under the palm of your hand. No, this dough sticks to every inch of your hand and countertop, clinging for dear life. It’s like a limpet clinging to a rock when the tide is going out. Or a really bad boyfriend. You try to scrape it back together with no real luck. Instead, you’re left massaging a sticky, damp mass and sort of smashing it against the countertop. But this technique actually helps.

After about 15 minutes, the dough starts to stick less and less. When this happens, lightly flour your hands, pick up the mass and slap it against the counter. I suppose if you’ve had a really bad day, this might feel great. But right now, I have the flu, it’s 9:45 PM, and honestly I’d rather be passed out in bed that spanking a ball of dough into submission.

At last you are rewarded when the dough no longer sticks to your hands or the counter. But you’re not done – no, far from it! The fun has only begun. Now you need to add the butter. Just dump half a pound of softened butter in chunks on top of the dough and start kneading it together all over. Yet instead of the dough sticking to your hands, it feels like you’re groping around the insides of a sea urchin. The dough squishes between your fingers and makes the loveliest sound.

It takes another 15 to 20 minutes for the butter to be fully incorporated. Again, you use the slapping-on-the-counter technique to develop the dough’s elasticity. One word of caution when you’re slamming it on the counter – avoid getting it stuck on the ceiling. The ceiling over our workspace is rather low, so a couple people actually get the dough stuck above their heads.

After my 40 minute workout (I’m dripping with sweat), I can finally wrap up the dough in plastic and let it rest in the refrigerator over the weekend. The yeast needs time to ferment and mix with the other ingredients.

The Next Day

We come to class the next day and prepare our dough for the brioche molds. It has turned into a different beast after having rested in the refrigerator. Now it is spongy and soft as we shape it into various forms for baking. During class we make pan aux raisins, brioche tete (the big brioche you’ve seen in the store with a big round ball on the top), and a standard loaf.

The dough practically explodes in the oven as it morphs into its final state. Out of the oven, I take a bite. It’s soft, yeasty, airy and tastes just slightly of butter and eggs. Okay, maybe I will make this again, but I’m still sticking by my resolve to never make it by hand again!

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