Crunchy Hippy in Seattle Soda Bread

"Why the heck haven't I made this before?" I ask myself as I take the first bite.  This is like a scone, a muffin, and a piece of sandwich bread all in one bite.  It's so soft and crumbly and so sweet but not sweet at all - like a savory muffin, but a little dryer.  "This is really good"  I think, as I take another bite.  I think I could continue taking bites until this whole loaf disappears.  

I made this today, prompted by my unexpected day off, a huge pot of butternut squash soup wailing for a sidekick, and an email from Mark's mother (who reads this site) mentioning that she was going to make Irish Soda Bread this week.  She's very holiday-oriented... you should see her collection of Christmas sweaters. (Hi Joan!)  I'm not Irish, and not so into this holiday, but I am American.  Although sometimes I claim to be a bit more European, especially when I'm particularly irked by the size of a particular Chrysler "mine is bigger than yours" Expedition that blew past me on my bicycle the other day.  I'm one of those people who believes the streets should be rebuilt no wider than a Smart Car, with dedicated bicycle lanes on each side.  Soccer moms, I apologize, but if you think you really need that much space for little 50 pound Jimmy and his one other 45 pound teammate, then maybe you can buy two Smart Cars and make yourself a little train.  Modular vehicles - it can't be that tough, people.

So to relieve my curiosity on this little loaf (that may actually rival the Smart Car in both size and ingenuity), I of course turn to my Joy of Cooking and flip in the index to 'Bread'.  Not there.  Oh, I know it's here somewhere... so I flip to 'Quick Bread' and there it is, much to my relief. I'm not just relieved it's there, but relieved it's 'Quick'. I'm hungry.  The bike ride in the cold Seattle rain will do it to you every time.

The chatter at the beginning of the recipe mentions that this bread is in the American category due to its raisins, caraway seeds, and sweetness that Irish soda bread wouldn't know what to do with.  Us Americans always add sugar to everything!  Because I'm the kind to question whether or not the earth revolves around the sun, I questioned why I needed all that stuff in this recipe anyway.  But seeing as how I hadn't ever made this bread before, I didn't want to deviate to the point that I couldn't get the Soda Bread picture, ya know?  So I reduced the 2 tablespoons of sugar to 1, left out the caraway, and put a few raisins on top for good measure.  I also used a combination of soymilk and yogurt (half and half for each) for the buttermilk.  I also subbed in some olive oil for the butter.  The loaf came out so tender and flaky, probably because I used whole wheat pastry flour instead of all-purpose... oops, I guess I have to add that to the list too.  So maybe we'll call this bread 'Crunchy Hippy in Seattle Soda Bread'.  

Instead of scoring a large X in the top before baking, just score a large peace sign.  

 

Irish American Soda Bread

8 servings (1 round loaf)

1 2/3 cup whole wheat pastry flour

1 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1 large egg

1/3 cup soymilk or milk of choice

1/3 cup plain yogurt (or 2/3 cup buttermilk, total)

4 tablespoons olive oil (or butter)

raisins to top loaf

In a large bowl, mix the first 5 ingredients well.  In a separate small bowl, beat together egg, milk, yogurt and olive oil.  Pour the wet mixture into the dry and stir until just incorporated.  The batter will be wet and sticky.  Scrape the batter onto a baking sheet into a big round lump.  Top the mound of batter with some raisins, and then with a knife score a large X into the top of the loaf.   Put into a 375 degree oven for about 25 minutes, until golden brown on top.  Let cool and remove from baking sheet.  Top with some salted butter and let your toes curl up next to the fireplace.

 

Fluffy Buckwheat Pancakes

Oh buckwheat, how I adore thee… let me count the ways.

1 Buckwheat crepes (also called gallettes) with spinach, mushroom and cheese
2 Toasted and cooked whole with caramelized onions and potatoes
3 Mixed with garbanzo flour and quinoa flour in baked goods – buckwheat is gluten-free too!
4 Raw buckwheat soaked and sprouted, then dehydrated into the cutely named ‘buckwheaties’

What, only 4 ways? Well now there’s 5. Buckwheat pancakes I love best. I love them not just because they are so sweet and toasty and fabulous, but because they were the first thing that Mark asked me to make this past Sunday morning. Actually, I think they were the first words he spoke at all to me. Eyes open. Yawn. A kiss. “Will you make buckwheat pancakes?” I smiled, because unimaginably, this was the exact thought that ran through my mind right before he asked that question. We do that a lot.

I’m used to making pancakes. I’m the pancake improv queen. I can scat and doowop those cakes with the best of ‘em. I never use a recipe. I see what I’ve got and throw it in the bowl. Sometimes it works out… and well… sometimes it doesn’t. After Mark and I moved in together, I started making pancakes right and left. I now had someone to cook for (a.k.a a victim ripe for my experimentation.) He’s been through dense vegan whole wheat cakes, fluffy white and wheat cakes, pancakes with blueberries not-quite-cooked-through, buckwheat cakes flatter than, um, a pancake. Needless to say he’s been through many pancakes, but you won’t hear any complaints from him. Good or bad, they’ve all been covered in real maple syrup and slathered in butter, which perfects any imperfection.

A few weeks ago I decided to become a bit more systematic in my experimentation. In other words, I needed to find what was working and write it down. Over time I sensed that the lightest and most blissful pancakes came when I used yogurt and baking soda. It’s no wonder as the yogurt’s protein gives the cake structure, and it’s acidity activates the baking soda so effectively to give a good rise. I remember my mother using yogurt in her pancake batter when I was growing up. It must be key.

With forced fastidiousness, I plopped down a pencil and paper next to my morning batter-making and came up with this. After all the batches of pancakes Mark has ‘endured’ he’s always said “yum” or “good job” or “you’re the best, Pancake Girl” but this time, he had no words. He only gave a guttural “Ughhhhaaaaaahhhhh” and followed it with an “MMmmmmm.” I’ve never seen him in more pleasure over a pancake (and he’s a french toast guy.) It’s the ultimate. We both agreed. You’ll never want for another pancake recipe again. Heck, you may never make another pancake again that’s not buckwheat.

So this is number 5, but I think you’ll agree it’s number 1.

Fluffy Buckwheat Pancakes

The first time I made these I used nonfat yogurt and came out with a dry product. Don't use it! Stick with a lowfat yogurt, a brand I like is Nancy's Organic. You could substitute the white spelt flour with a white wheat flour and you'd probably be safe. Try topping them with berries, bananas or even some maple sweetened yogurt for a power breakfast.

1 cup lowfat yogurt
1 tablespoon evaporated cane juice or sugar
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons water
1 cup soy milk
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup buckwheat flour
1/2 cup white spelt flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons butter

Mix together the first 8 ingredients in a medium bowl. Combine well and then add the flours and baking soda. Beat well to smooth the lumps. Heat a cast iron skillet to medium heat and add the butter to the pan. Pour batter out 1/4 cup at a time for medium-sized cakes. Top with real maple syrup and moan. I know, they're obscene, aren't they?