makes 1 dozen fougasse
Traditionally, fougasse was baked in the ashes of a wood-fired oven as a way to assess how much—or how little—heat remained. It has a distinctive shape that’s fun to see and even more fun to eat. I first tasted a version of fougasse that I liked at a Basque restaurant I often frequented in Seattle. Whenever the kitchen crew at that restaurant saw me coming, they tried to outdo each other preparing what was always a multicourse celebration. One night I showed up with a couple of new breads that we were working on for William Leaman, including my fougasse. This caused quite a stir of anticipation among the kitchen staff, and it was particularly pleasing to me when my dining partner, a three-hundred-pound chef named Jimenez, made a beeline for the fougasse. “I know this,” he said. “We eat this in Basque country; the combination of olives and almonds is very Basque.” And with that he went to work on one. He wore dentures, making his contest with the roll a bit of a challenge, so it was even more gratifying to see his determination to finish the whole thing and his smile of approval.