I remember fawning over my friend Helen's bread the first time she made it for us. "Everyone in Denmark can make this kind of bread," she said, bewildered at my enthusiasm.
I like that attitude. Why has bread become this special occasion thing? I would never buy pre-made rice. Why should I buy pre-made bread?
Look, this is not some slender, golden Parisian baguette with slashes and leaves, or a ciabatta with holes big enough to put your fist through. But it's a sturdy, honest bread, the kind of bread your body would be happy to wake up to.
When I was in Copenhagen, I asked Helen to teach me to make her bread. No measuring, no kneading, no chopping, and she can make the dough after partying until 8am. I've seen her do it. And now I can do it.
Now that I understand how it works, I can make as few or as many buns as I want to at a time. I can make it in metric countries or in non-metric countries, whether I can read the food labels or not. The world is mine.
Ingredients: flours, water, yeast, salt, honey/sugar, whatever hippie flourishes you want in the bread.
Equipment: A bowl, a spoon, parchment paper, a rice paddle, a baking sheet, a dish towel, an oven
Take 1/8 of a block of cake yeast. That's a little bit of yeast. And drop it into some warm water. Like a couple of cups. Add a generous teaspoonish mound of salt and a tablespoonish squirt of honey. Mix it all up until everything dissolves and the honey smell blooms.
Add nuts, seeds, dried fruit and a glug of oil. Whatever you got, that's fine.
Add enough spelt flour (or rye flour, or wheat flour, whatever alternative brown flour you can find) until you get the consistency of pancake batter.
Sprinkle in some muesli.
Add enough regular flour so you get a wet bread dough. It should be kind of elastic and pull away from the sides of the bowl.
Cover with a well-wetted clean dish towel and go to work. Or go to bed. Or set it in a warm place and do your laundry.
The dough will be twice the size. Preheat your oven to 200 degrees Celsius. (That's 375ish Fahrenheit, or 3/4 to the top of the dial on a home oven.) Use something like a rice paddle to plop bun-shaped mounds onto parchment paper.
Bake until brown and crusty. I don't know how long this takes. Use your nose. When your kitchen smells like bread, take a look at them. The buns should be brown, and the exterior should be crusty.
Enjoy with sliced cheese.
I like that attitude. Why has bread become this special occasion thing? I would never buy pre-made rice. Why should I buy pre-made bread?
Look, this is not some slender, golden Parisian baguette with slashes and leaves, or a ciabatta with holes big enough to put your fist through. But it's a sturdy, honest bread, the kind of bread your body would be happy to wake up to.
When I was in Copenhagen, I asked Helen to teach me to make her bread. No measuring, no kneading, no chopping, and she can make the dough after partying until 8am. I've seen her do it. And now I can do it.
Now that I understand how it works, I can make as few or as many buns as I want to at a time. I can make it in metric countries or in non-metric countries, whether I can read the food labels or not. The world is mine.
Ingredients: flours, water, yeast, salt, honey/sugar, whatever hippie flourishes you want in the bread.
Equipment: A bowl, a spoon, parchment paper, a rice paddle, a baking sheet, a dish towel, an oven
Take 1/8 of a block of cake yeast. That's a little bit of yeast. And drop it into some warm water. Like a couple of cups. Add a generous teaspoonish mound of salt and a tablespoonish squirt of honey. Mix it all up until everything dissolves and the honey smell blooms.
Add nuts, seeds, dried fruit and a glug of oil. Whatever you got, that's fine.
Add enough spelt flour (or rye flour, or wheat flour, whatever alternative brown flour you can find) until you get the consistency of pancake batter.
Sprinkle in some muesli.
Add enough regular flour so you get a wet bread dough. It should be kind of elastic and pull away from the sides of the bowl.
Cover with a well-wetted clean dish towel and go to work. Or go to bed. Or set it in a warm place and do your laundry.
The dough will be twice the size. Preheat your oven to 200 degrees Celsius. (That's 375ish Fahrenheit, or 3/4 to the top of the dial on a home oven.) Use something like a rice paddle to plop bun-shaped mounds onto parchment paper.
Bake until brown and crusty. I don't know how long this takes. Use your nose. When your kitchen smells like bread, take a look at them. The buns should be brown, and the exterior should be crusty.
Enjoy with sliced cheese.
wow! that's like magic. can't wait to try it
ooo i'm so glad you wrote this out - been craving helen's danish bread for months!
FYI, this morning the baking took about 40 minutes. Could take more or less in another oven. Poke it with your nail -- the crust should be hard and a little crackly. I made more this morning and they're yums.
last week, nathan (this guy who works in my office and teaches bread baking at brooklyn kitchen), gave me and my co-workers an impromptu bread baking lesson. while i admire him greatly for his knowledge and yeast-culture prowess, at the end of the day i was kind of overwhelmed. your bread is way more my style. thanks! and come home soon!