I really enjoy the earthy goodness of spelt. Its texture and flavor are a bit lighter than whole wheat but still packs a punch when it comes to tasting good and is good for you (the two can coincide at times;). Some people who have gluten intolerance can enjoy spelt as an alternative to wheat but not all as it does have a limited amount still present. What is spelt, you ask? It is an ancient grain that is a hybrid between a type of wheat and a type of tall growing grass. It has more protein than regular wheat, is high in fiber, and has a high amount of B vitamins (B vitamins make you feel happier). Yeah, yeah–nutrition jargon–so what is the big deal with spelt?
It tastes good. Pure and simple. Next time you are at the store, pick yourself up a loaf of spelt bread and I think you might be surprised. It’s soft, it has a wonderful nutty flavor, and it tastes great as toast or in a sandwich. I stopped eating store-bought whole wheat bread a few years ago and it was well worth it. When I do buy my bread, I get it from Dave’s Killer Bread, straight from the factory here in town, fresh (and spelt!). They don’t put anything strange in their bread–and they support a wonderful cause.
But when I don’t buy it, I make this bread. I usually make two loaves and freeze one for later use (the freezer is an amazing utility to make the most of!). It’s hearty, dense, has wonderful flavor, and I eat it with just about anything. I love it when it (or any bread really) comes right out of the oven and I smother it in fresh butter–and mean smother–I have a weak spot for fresh bread and butter. One of life’s little guilty pleasures
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Enjoy!
Honey Spelt Bread recipe adapted from Food and Wine
4 1/2 cups whole-wheat spelt flour, plus more for dusting
2 teaspoons fine sea salt
2 teaspoons active dry yeast
1 3/4 cups warm water
2 + tablespoons honey (I used almost 4)
In a standing mixer fitted with a dough hook add the water, honey, and yeast. Let stand for about 5 minutes to get nice and foamy. Add the salt and flour 1/2 cup at a time and mix until the flour is moistened, about 2 minutes, scraping down the side of the bowl with a rubber spatula as needed. Increase the speed to medium and knead until a stiff dough forms, about 2 minutes longer.
Transfer the dough to a lightly floured work surface and shape into a ball. Set the dough in a well-floured bowl, cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1 1/2 hours.
Preheat the oven to 450° and spray a 9-by-5-inch loaf pan with vegetable cooking spray. Invert the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and gently punch it down. Fold the dough into a loaf, tucking in the sides and pinching the seams. Transfer the dough to the loaf pan, seam side down. Cover with plastic wrap and let stand until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
Remove the plastic wrap and lightly dust the dough with flour. Using a razor blade or sharp knife, make a shallow lengthwise gash down the center of the loaf. Bake for about 35 minutes, until the loaf is risen, golden on top and an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center of the loaf reads 180°. Let the bread cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then tip it out onto a rack to cool completely before serving.
I was talking with a friend of mine the other day who told me that at the new year he gets a compulsive urge to madly write in his journal about the past year, furiously scribbling pictures and words revisiting his yearly narrative. He followed it up by saying “weird, huh.” No way! I told him. That is an incredible way to look back, reflect where you’ve been and what you’ve learned, and find the exciting possibilities of where you’d like to go in the coming year.
I too get especially contemplative this time of year. It is a rare and wonderful opportunity for me to really look inward and get a clear picture of my personal road map. I follow my tracks remembering a moment where I laughed so hard I cried, or physically cringing remembering another moment. I’ve found that with the difficult situations I’ve been through, it helps me to learn from my mistakes as well as heal old wounds when I visualize a different outcome–the one that I would have liked to have happened.
This year, I’ve made a list of a few things I’d like to do and learn. First, I want to be more open–to possibilities, to myself, and to really listening to others, nature, and the heart (or gut); I want to better surround myself with those who are positive and supportive as well as cherish daily those who have been there for me through thick and thin; I want a fulfilling career–one that I am able give back to the community all that I have learned (and continue learning from!) which I am so grateful for ; and laugh more–to find the humor in more situations and to laugh at myself more. There is a time and a place to take things seriously, but it is truly an art to not take more than is necessary so seriously! I admire those who can turn what may be awkward, intense, or difficult situations into something else.
I was flipping through The Bread Bible to find one of my favorite bread recipes, when I came across one with the title of American Chocolate Bread. It was under a chapter that I hadn’t yet ventured into called, A Slice of Divinity: Celebration and Dessert Breads. Talk about reflection (see above;), I started wondering why I hadn’t been reading the recipes in that chapter. They are diverse, packed with history, about celebration (who doesn’t like a good party?), and unique. This particular chapter was like getting a concentrated world history lesson via bread. Yes, please! Historically, (according to the book), there is not any link to the new year, per say, and this recipe. However, in my mind the two will be inexorably linked forever. This may even become a new holiday ritual (I do love food rituals;). These not-too-sweet breads are perfect for breakfast or a midnight snack. They satisfy the senses on many levels: the slight crunch of the sparkling sugar on the crust, the warm smell of yeasted bread, the surprise gush of melted chocolate on your tongue and lips as you bite into the center, and the heft of the roll itself–let’s just say you are not eating air.
And speaking of rituals, Andrew ensured good luck for us both in the coming year by making a family favorite: black eyed peas. He made them without following a recipe but went along with his memory, intuition, and some already burgeoning good luck. They were fantastic. Happy new year!

American Chocolate Bread, via The Bread Bible by Beth Hensperger
For the sponge:
2 tablespoons (2 packages) active dry yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 cup warm water
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
Dough:
1 cup warm milk
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 tablespoon salt
4-4 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
8 oz semisweet chocolate (nice chocolate like Scharffen-Berger or Ghirardelli)
3 tablespoons vanilla sugar (or just regular sugar works too)
1. In a large bowl using a whisk or in the bowl of your stand mixer with the paddle attachment, place the yeast, sugar, water, and 1 1/2 cups flour. Beat until smooth, about 3 minutes. Cover and let stand in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour. This makes your sponge.
2. Stir down the sponge with a wooden spoon. Add 1 cup milk, 3 tablespoons butter, salt, and 1 cup flour. Beat hard until smooth, about 2 minutes. Add the flour 1/2 cup at a time, to form a soft dough.
3. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and knead for about 5 minutes, adding 1 tablespoon of flour at a time as necessary until dough just loses its stickiness. It will be soft and springy.
4. Place the dough in a greased bowl. Turn once to coat top and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
5. Grease eight 4 1/2 by 2 1/2 inch loaf pans. (If you don’t have these, that’s fine, I just twisted mine into little rolls and baked them on my bread stone). Cut the chocolate into 1 oz portions. Gently deflate the dough. Turn the dough out on a lightly floured work surface and divide into 8 equal portions. Pat each portion out into a 7 by 4 inch rectangle about 3/4 to 1 inch thick. Place a piece of chocolate at short edge of each dough portion and roll the dough up jelly roll fashion. Pinch the edges to seal and completely enclose chocolate. Arrange either in the pans or if you are not using pans, just on the floured surface, and let rise until almost doubled, about 15 minutes.
6. Twenty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Brush the loaves with the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter and sprinkle with about 1 teaspoon sugar to sparkle the crust. Place the pans in the oven and bake 20-30 minutes, or until a delicate brown. Transfer the loaves to a cooling rack for 20 minutes. Serve warm.
A happy, healthy, and adventurous new year to you all!

A good french toast in the morning is bliss. The experience of it not only puts me in a state of cheer, but becomes a vehicle for it for the rest of the day. Periodically, we make it here at home but it doesn’t happen too often. We either do not have all the necessary supplies or maybe it is a subconscious diversion–because sad french toast can leave the opposite mark on one’s day. I know I can get grumpy when sad french toast happens.
Last week we had a part of a ciabatta loaf left over so I decided to take a stab at it with some french toast. It was a good decision because I will have a hard time making it now with any other kind of bread! I melted a little coconut oil in the pan, whipped up some eggs, milk, and cinnamon, put the first slices of bread in the mixture to soak and wha-la! It was like magic–and so simple. I love it when magical things happen simply
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I wanted to share this now-favorite household recipe with you. There was complete silence while we were eating it, except for a half-pause from Andrew who looked at me and said, “did you write this one down?”. And it’s official, now I have!
1 loaf day old ciabatta bread
3 eggs
1 1/2 – 2 cups milk
1 – 1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
3 teaspoons coconut oil
Slice the bread to 1/4-1/2 inch thick pieces. Whisk together the eggs, milk, and cinnamon. Put the first two slices in the bowl to soak. Heat the first teaspoon coconut oil in a non stick pan at medium high. When hot and shimmering, turn the heat down to medium, and place the first two pieces of bread on the pan and put your next two pieces of bread in the bowl with the egg/milk mixture to soak. Cook until lightly browned on the outside and when pressed down upon with your spatula, nothing oozes out. When finished, add another teaspoon of coconut oil and repeat, until all of your bread and egg/milk mixture is gone. You may want to add a little more cinnamon to the mix towards the end as the bread tends to soak it up after the first few rounds.
Yesterday, I made Lussekatter or Swedish saffron sweet bread. I had picked up the December issue of Saveur while traveling home from the east coast and an entire article was dedicated to Swedish holiday baking traditions. Of course, I became intrigued. This particular combination of sweet saffron was a blend of flavors I had never tried before–so to remedy that, I decided this recipe would be a good place to start.
I’m going to cut right to the chase here. This bread was fantastic. Imagine a light, soft, airy brioche that warms you through and through. The hints of saffron off-set by the subtle sweetness of the bread itself is like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. Exotic yet homey, expansive yet comforting, the flavors and texture of this bread were wonderful. It gives off the best aroma while rising and baking too, luring your whole house into the process and transporting everyone to a different (and warm) place. It was relatively simple to make too.

This was also Noel Bakerina’s second project of the month. She left a little note that described the tradition of the Swedes use of Saffron in this particular bread:
December 13th is the day of Saint Lucia in Sweden and has been celebrated for hundreds of years. In Scandinavia, daylight is scarce during the winter and nights are long and dark. It is celebrated in particular on December 13th because it historically has been noted to be the shortest day of the year. Saint Lucia, a celebrated figure across many religious denominations in Scandinavia, is the light that overcomes the darkness and will bring longer days in the months to come. The saffron used in the buns was used to represent the light–the yellow hue not only encourages Saint Lucia but also celebrates her strength.
Cheers!

Lussekatter (Swedish Saffron Sweet Bread) via Saveur
2, 1/4 oz. packets active dry yeast
2 cups milk, heated to 115 degrees
2 tsp. saffron, lightly crushed
3/4 cup plus 1 tsp. sugar
6 1/2 cups flour
3/4 tsp kosher salt
3 eggs
12 tbsp unsalted butter, cut into 1/2″ cubes, softened
canola oil, for greasing
raisins, for garnish
1. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle, mix together yeast, milk, saffron, and 1 tsp. sugar; let sit until foamy, about 10 minutes. Stir in the remaining sugar, along with the flour, salt, and two eggs. Mix on low speed until dough forms and gathers around the paddle. replace paddle with dough hook and add butter, knead on medium-high speed until dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl, 8 minutes. Transfer dough to a large bowl greased with oil and cover with plastic wrap; let rest in a warm place until doubled in size, 1 hour.
2. Divide dough into 32 pieces and roll each piece into an 8″ long rope. Form each rope into an S shape and then roll each end into a tight spiral. Place shaped dough pieces 2″ apart on parchment paper lined baking sheets; cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place for 30 minutes.
3. Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Uncover the dough pieces and place a raisin at the center of each of the spirals. Lightly beat the remaining 1 egg with 1 tbsp. water and brush each bun with egg mixture. Bake until buns are golden brown and cooked through, 16 minutes. Transfer buns to a wire rack and let cool for at least 10 minutes before serving.
*Note: If you happen to shape your dough into the bread-circle like I did above, it is really helpful to use a baking stone. Place your stone, or your parchment lined baking sheet in the center rack–if it is on a rack that is too high or too low, the top or the bottom will get over done and the middle will not finish cooking all the way through. This recipe makes a lot of rolls, so I was able to make two bread circles. Me being me, I tried to put them both in the oven at the same time, the bread stone on the bottom shelf and the parchment lined baking sheet in the middle. The bread on the stone cooked through, but the bottom of it was overdone, and the bread on the middle rack had a beautiful color to it and looked perfect–until I saw it two hours later and the middle had sunk–it hadn’t cooked all the way through. You live and you learn!
Food writing is an amazing cacophony of intertwining stories, memories, personal histories, tastes, descriptive scenes, politics, and opinions. The story becomes the essence, showcasing the flavor of the author. Sometimes, it seems, I can’t get enough and thankfully there is a ton out there I haven’t read. I love stories and histories that involve food because often times passion, excitement, and tremendous change are involved in the narrators life. Food allows us to work from an intuitive place, if we allow it to happen. Think of all those people you know who come home from their day jobs and then throw themselves into making a wonderful meal. Food gives us the space, and time, to exercise another part of the brain and soul that may have been shut off during the work day.
Food blogs today are everywhere–I’m sure you’ve noticed! And I am immensely grateful for all of you who take the time to read this one! Thank you! One thing that I try to do with my little space here is to be genuinely honest–not only with you, but with myself. Food in so many ways has become a catalyst for not only exploring and discovering myself and my passions, but also helping me describe the journey and how it feels. Eating is Art was started because, well, I believe that is true! It became a reminder for myself that my everyday actions were just as important as the big things I was trying to achieve and they have just as much impact on my life as do the bigger decisions. The blog has held me accountable to myself. It is satisfying to look back and have a record of projects I’ve done and how my approaches and thoughts have grown. It is also a place where I come to share a piece of myself, reflect, and bake. The blog has become a journey in which I hadn’t anticipated its affect. I look forward to writing, sharing, and to you.
I made a wonderfully boozy Persimmon bread yesterday with a recipe from the Godfather of Cooking and food writing himself, James Beard. It was quite fruit-cake-esk, but not in a bad way. It is actually really festive tasting, with almost a cup of whiskey or bourbon used in it! The raisins, and nuts if you use them, meld wonderfully with the liquor flavoring and a hint of nutmeg finishes it off. I liked making it and eating it just to imagine James Beard doing so and then fully enjoying a warm slice himself. Plus, if you have 17 pounds of persimmons sitting around, all getting ripe at different times (thank goodness), this is a good recipe to have around
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But before I dive into the recipe, here are some of my favorite (and random) excerpts from Life is Meals, by James and Kay Salter. A truly phenomenal read and interesting approach to food, writing, art, and life–each chapter corresponds to a different day of the year and had significance to the authors themselves or in the vast time line of history.
“Following a wedding in ancient Egypt, there was a kind of trial period for the marriage that took place not only in the sleeping quarters but also at the table. It was called ‘a year of eating,’ after which the bride and groom either parted or continued as a couple. Presumably, this took into account that a married couple would spend many more of their waking hours at the table than in bed, and this was where true compatibility lay.”
“Brillat-Savarin gave us the four indispensables for a dinner:
1. Food that was at least passable
2. Good wine
3. Agreeable company
4. Enough time
Among the elements that he felt were desirable, though not essential:
1. A maximum of twelve guests
2. The room cool (60-68 degrees F), amply lit, and the table linen fresh
3. The evening lasting until at least eleven, but not beyond midnight. “
“A poet’s hope: to be
Like some valley cheese,
Local, but prized everywhere.
–W.H. Auden”
“Throughout [Winston Churchill's] long life, he ate well and drank heartily and once described a meal as follows: ‘Well, dinner would have been splendid if the wine had been as cold as the soup, the beef as rare as the service, the brandy as old as the fish, and the maid as willing as the Duchess.”
“Alice Waters once observed that in her experience, you can tell whether a chef is a man or a woman by looking at your plate: a man builds a tower, a woman makes a nest.”

Persimmon Bread, via David Lebovits via James Beard
Adapted from Beard on Bread by James Beard.
3½ cups sifted flour
1½ teaspoons salt
2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 to 2½ cups sugar
1 cup melted unsalted butter and cooled to room temperature
4 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
2/3 cup Cognac, bourbon or whiskey
2 cups persimmon puree (from about 4 squishy-soft Hachiya persimmons)
2 cups walnuts or pecans, toasted and chopped
2 cups raisins, or diced dried fruits (such as apricots, cranberries, or dates)
1. Butter 2 loaf pans. Line the bottoms with a piece of parchment paper or dust with flour and tap out any excess.
2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
3. Sift the first 5 dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl.
4. Make a well in the center then stir in the butter, eggs, liquor, persimmon puree then the nuts and raisins.
5. Bake 1 hour or until toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
Storage: Will keep for about a week, if well-wrapped, at room temperature. The Persimmon Breads take well to being frozen, too.
There are some things that the camera just doesn’t have time to capture before we devour something in our house. My favorite gingerbread is definitely one of those things. I found this recipe while reading MFK Fisher’s The Art of Eating. I have only made this version since and I will continue to do so for all of time–it’s that good.

The flavors of this gingerbread hearken to an old-fashioned cake–spicy, extremely moist, and irresistible. It is not super sweet, somehow making it really easy to take large hunks each time you pass the kitchen (or, at least that is what I have been doing!). This gingerbread is what makes the dreary, cold, and rainy fall / winter days bearable for me because I think “there’s always gingerbread” that can be made. And I honestly look forward to it. There just seems something wrong with making this cake-like bread when it’s warm and sunny out–I’ve never been able to make myself do it. So I make sure to utilize the cold and cloudy days of the winter very wisely, with several of these made throughout the season
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I had a massive persimmon picking session this weekend with the Portland Fruit Tree Project. We arrived at the designated spot and gazed at an amazingly bountiful persimmon tree, gluttonous for those sweet and tender fruits. They are now all lined up on my dining room window sill waiting for optimum ripening. I’ve been doing some good research about different uses for persimmons. So far, my favorite is for a pudding (which I’ve made before and was mind blowing).

But I now have 17 pounds of persimmons I have got to find something to do with. Any of you have a favorite recipe? Or have always wanted to try a recipe with persimmons but haven’t been able? I’d love to know because I’ve got a lot to use!
Edith’s Gingerbread, The Art of Eating
*This recipe is old–the original instructions are actually quite confusing because there are a lot of little steps to take with each ingredient. So, I’ve rewritten it in a way that I hope is easier for you to understand and easily follow more consecutively*
First
1/4 cup earth balance or butter (she calls for shortening–if you use it, try non-hydrogenated)
1/4 cup sugar
–Cream the butter and sugar together in a bowl.
Second
1/2 cup molasses
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
–Whisk the baking soda into the molasses well, then using a spatula transfer into the creamed butter and sugar bowl. Mix well.
Third
In yet another bowl, whisk together…
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1-2 teaspoons ginger (I like it on the spicy side)
1 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
–After you’ve whisked these, set bowl aside.
Fourth
3/4 cup boiling water
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
–Add the baking soda to the boiling water. Alternate adding to the creamed butter, sugar, molasses mixture with the dry ingredients.
Fifth
1 egg
–Add a slightly beaten egg to the entire mixture until combined.
Finally
Pour into a prepared (buttered and floured) square pan. Place into center rack in a preheated oven of 325 degrees F. Bake for 20 minutes or until a toothpick is inserted in the center and comes out clean. *I had to bake mine for about twice that amount of time (40 mins) and I am not sure if it is because of my oven in particular or if back then ovens were just a heckuva lot hotter due to being wood burning or something. Just make sure you check yours after 20 minutes, if it looks completely underdone and the center is still wobbly, not to worry, just put it back in there for ten more minutes, check it and it may even need five to ten more minutes after that to be completely baked in the middle.
This gingerbread is worth it!
Cheers!
Tea. I love it. I drink it every morning with a few pieces of toast liberally spread with coconut oil, agave nectar, and a sprinkling of cinnamon.
I drink tea throughout my day. Actually, I have a total schedule for it: black tea first thing–no more than two mugs, green tea after 11am until about 3pm, herbal tea until I go to bed. And I literally drink it morning through night–my house is cold and it is a good way to stay warm and hydrated
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I also love to drink it with a friend, which is what I did today. It was good to catch up. She made this lovely Cardamon Fig Bread, it was delicious. She even served her homemade preserved plums with it! They were stewed in vanilla beans and a cinnamon stick before canning–completely amazing.
How do you like tea–with friends, alone, as a boost, only green, a comfort? I’d love to know!
Fig Cardamon Bread, by Chelsea
1/3 cup melted butter (or olive oil she said works too)
1 1/3 cup buttermilk
2 eggs
1 1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 heaping tablespoon honey
1 heaping tablespoon maple syrup
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cardamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups heaped with figs
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter and flour a 9x5x3 bread pan, set aside. Mix all the dry ingredients together, plus figs. Beat all the wet ingredients well. Combine the two and mix until combined. Pour into prepared dish and bake for 50 minutes. Serve warm.
When someone new comes into the world, a good bread is definitely in order. And I mean a really good bread. Our friends just had a baby, Ulianna, and we were going to meet her. What would I bring? I knew I wanted to bring bread–everything that bread stands for–life, sustenance, and nourishment–I just felt it was fitting. I imagined the new family breaking bread together, to celebrate their new life with a pain de campagne.
Pain de campagne is a country french bread. It is a hearty, earthy, and amazingly dense and delicious. Villages used to have a community oven, where families would bake their bread that could weigh up to 12 pounds–enough to feed a family for quite a while. It could sustain french families for a week or more! And it is traditionally decorated with a bunch of grapes fashioned from the dough, which I also did on the top. The beauty of a pain de campagne is that it ferments for up to three days. Starting with a whole wheat starter sponge and gradually adding flour each day, until on the final day you knead (and I mean KNEAD–this is some tough dough–but oh so satisfying). Sometimes bread can come out tasting too much like the flour it was made with. But with the pain de campagne, nothing could be further from that idea. Instead, it has yeasty and fermented undertones that are offset by the whole wheat goodness it embodies. I decided to make two loaves–one to give to Ulia and her family, the other for us. I wanted to taste this thing for myself! And I am glad I did make two–it was well worth the days of fermenting.
It sounds like a lot of work, but in fact it’s not. The first day you mix a little flour, water, and yeast. The second day you add some more flour. The last day you add the rest of the flour and salt and let rise, then bake. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes of my time on the first and second days. The final day took a bit longer, but it was like any normal bread baking experience–you just cut out a few hours of your day for it.
Good bread, new life, sustaining health, comfort, and the basis of so many people’s diet across the globe–welcome Ulia! This bread, or pain de campagne, is for you
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Pain de campagne
The Bread Bible
Starter
1 tablespoon (1 package) active dry yeast
1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
1/2 cup lukewarm water
Sponge
2 cups lukewarm water
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups whole-wheat flour
Dough
3 1/2 – 4 cups unbleached flour
4 teaspoons salt
1 large egg beaten with 2 teaspoons water, for glazing
1. Day one: To make the starter, place the yeast and the whole-wheat flour in a deep bowl or a plastic 4 quart bucket with a lid. Add the water and whisk hard until a smooth batter is formed. Cover and let stand at room temperature until foamy and it begins to ferment, 24 hours.
2. Day two: To make the sponge, add 2 cups warm water to the starter. Whisk to combine. Add the unbleached and the whole-wheat flours alternately, 1 cup at a time, changing to a wooden spoon when necessary, until a smooth batter is formed. The sponge will be very wet. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, cover with plastic, and let rise again at room temp, 24 hours.
3. Day three: To make the bread dough, stir down the sponge with a wooden spoon. Add 1 cup of the unbleached flour and the salt. Gradually add most of the remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, to make the dough firm.
Turn the dough out on a lightly floured surface. I had to add a little bit of the flour at a time and really knead it into the dough–the dough is tough! The wooden spoon just wouldn’t do, your hands work much better. Do this until the 3-3 1/2 cups flour is all gone and you are just kneading away at that thing for about 5 more minutes–you will feel this in your arms the next day! When done kneading, place in a greased deep bowl, flip it to coat, and set aside covered in plastic for about 1 1/2 hours. Then gently deflate the dough, shape into a round taking a little off to the side to use for the grape decoration. Wrap in a floured cloth and let rise again for another hour.
Pre heat the oven to 425 degrees F. Slash the loaf decoratively and brush with egg mixture. Put the decorative grapes and leaves on and then brush those with the egg mixture as well. Place the pain de campagne on your pre heated bread stone in the oven and bake for 40-45 minutes. The loaf will be crisp and sound hollow when you tap it on the bottom–that’s how you know it is done. Transfer to a cooling rack, slice when cooled.
You won’t be disappointed
Cheers!
On Sunday afternoon, I knew I would want a simple, throw together dinner that night. Andrew and I had been attacking a bush in our backyard–when we came in for lunch we were already tired. We, or mainly he, hacked down this thing about two thirds, it was as tall as our house. It was perfectly placed in front of our bedroom window, blocking all light. And the entire inside of our house is painted in different shades of brown–yes, brown. Gross. I am so confused about this– this is Portland. It is dark here nine months out of the year. Who in their right mind would paint the inside of their house to resemble a cave? Second, who would paint the inside of their house to resemble a cave AND plant huge, ridiculous bushes in front of the windows to block all the rest of the light? I’ve wasted many a hour pondering this…really. Color is so important to me! It can really make or break how I feel–that and lighting. The house we are renting is managed by a rental company. The owners are, as we’ve heard from our very present and more-than-slightly nosy next door neighbor Pat (who has lived in her house for over 45 years) work for Adidas and are in Europe. Still, that confuses me even more–DESIGNERS painted their whole house brown? I can’t wrap my head around it–it starts to hurt.
So, all this thinking, wondering, pondering, and finally headaches led me to want something simple, hearty, and nourishing for dinner. Tuscan peasant bread was the first thing that came to mind. I love to bake bread. I love quickly making the dough in my mixer, then letting it rise for a couple of hours while I do other things. Then, I just pop it in the oven while I make the rest of dinner. I’ve discovered a really satisfying rhythm when I make bread. After doing it so many times, I know how long it takes me to do certain things while I let it rise. And it is always a good excuse to get some things done around the house I otherwise have been avoiding (the list gets pretty long!).
This is a perfectly crusty, lovely, and hearty bread, great with a good olive oil or a soft sheep’s feta. My amazing big bread maker Lauren told me a wonderful tip for bread baking–while letting it rise, don’t let it sit in a bowl, rather shape it (usually as a round) and place it in a floured tea or kitchen towel. Make sure the towel is completely covered on both sides well with flour, wrap the dough and let rise double in size. Then, when you place it onto your bread stone in a preheated oven, place under it on the bottom rack, a pan of ice cubes. This releases a lot of steam, which allows the crust to form and become–more crusty
. You can even spray some water in there a few times during the baking to really crustify the bread more if you like a really crusty bread–hers is always fantastic. This bread had a really nice crust and I only placed the pan of ice cubes in the oven. With this bread, I made a simple side of roasted heirloom carrots, sweet onions, french radishes, and turnips tossed in a little olive oil and coarse sea salt.

While the mystery of the cave colors in my house has not been solved, this bread was a great way to end a long Sunday of doing house stuff. I’m going to be sending some paint sample colors into my rental agency soon–then the mystery will be no more! We’ll see if they approve my need to paint everything warm white…

Tuscan Peasant Bread, by Beth Hensperger of The Bread Bible
2 cups warm water
2 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 envelope)
3 1/4-3 1/2 cups unbleached all purpose flour
1/2 cup coarse-grind whole wheat flour
pinch of salt
pinch of sugar
In a large bowl, place the warm water, pinch of sugar, and yeast. Let the yeast dissolve and bubble, about 5-10 minutes. The mixture will look milky and have a wonderful, yeasty aroma. Add one cup of the unbleached flour and all of the whole wheat flour and salt. Mix hard until combined, about one minute. Cover with plastic wrap or a clean cotton towel and let stand at room temperature until foamy, about one hour.
Add the rest of the flour 1/2 cup at a time and mix with your bread hook attachment or a wooden spoon until the dough forms a nice ball and doesn’t stick to the sides of the bowl any longer. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until soft, smooth, yet quite pliable, at least 5-8 minutes. If you have a mixer with a bread hook attachment, let it knead for about 5 minutes in the mixer. When done kneading, take out of the bowl, shape into a round, and place in a floured towel, wrap it, and let rise until double in size, about an hour and a half.
After the first rise, gently deflate the dough, reshape, and let rise again in the floured towel for 20 minutes. With a bread knife, cut a tic tac toe into the top, or three slashes, no more than 1/4 inch deep. Meanwhile, preheat the oven with your bread stone inside to 425 degrees F. Place pan of ice cubes on the bottom rack, put loaf onto stone, and bake for 55-60 minutes. The loaf will look done after about 45 minutes but needs a few minutes to bake the interior thoroughly. It is done when tapped on the bottom and it sounds hollow.
Cheers!
Buckwheat is one of my favorite grains. I’ve been experimenting with everything from pancakes to yakisoba to both quick and yeasted breads; I enjoy all forms this wonder grain comes in! It has a bad reputation for being super heavy, languid, and mushy. It makes things overly ‘complicated’ I’ve been told, giving breads a lead-like feeling. Hmmm. I felt compelled to prove this theory wrong and put one of my favorite grains to the test.
It’s been unseasonably cool here in Portland this past week. (July is normally nice and warm, dry, and always sunny!) I think this is why I’ve been craving things like buckwheat, because of their nourishing, warming, and grounding effects. When I found this recipe, I immediately went out and got the ingredients I was missing and set to it. There is something so satisfying about making a loaf of bread; I like how it takes the good part of an afternoon or evening, it gives me a chance to multi-task and feel like I am getting so much more done! ha
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This bread has everything you are looking for in a breakfast bread plus more. The buckwheat makes it sustaining, giving you long lasting energy that doesn’t weigh you down. The cinnamon and raisins in it compliment the buckwheat flavor and offer just the perfect amount of spice and sweet for your morning palate. I like it spread with some sweet cream butter or apple butter, it’s incredible!

Bread, especially yeasted breads, take a little bit of patience. It can be daunting to think that you have to wait around for this bread to rise three times when you have so much else to do! So you might want to do other things while you wait for it to rise a few times, just timing your other activities to coincide with the bread. It helps if you have a bunch of stuff to get done around the house and you know you’ll be home for an afternoon. Set a timer and go about your other activities, so you don’t forget when to knead, punch, and bake
. I really enjoy the kneading part, it’s a great arm workout and helps me think. But I also use my stand mixer with the bread attachment for kneading sometimes; not with this bread though. Bread also has a reputation for ‘complication‘ but I would encourage you to try it if you’d like. If you mess up, oh well! Try it again, and maybe try an easier recipe like a basic french loaf. The smell of bread rising in your house, the taste of warm bread from the oven with melted butter and jam, there is nothing like them! Bread might be the answer to making the world a happier place I think, at least it does for me!
Bon Appetit!

Buckwheat-Raisin Bread, adopted from Deborah Madison
The Sponge
1 1/4 cup warm water
2 1/2 teaspoons (1 package) active yeast
1 1/3 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup dried buttermilk or non fat milk
3 tablespoons honey
The Bread
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 3/4 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 cup dark raisins
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 cup buckwheat flour
1 – 1 1/4 cup all purpose flour
Mix everything for the sponge in a blow until smooth, cover and let rise in a warm place for one hour.
Stir down the sponge and add oil, salt, raisins, cinnamon. Stir in buckwheat then work in flour until you can’t work it any more. Turn out the dough onto a floured surface and knead until resilient, about 6 minutes. Put into an oiled bowl and let rise until doubled, about 1 – 1 1/2 hours.
Punch down dough in the bowl and let rise again about 40 minutes. Preheat oven to 375 F, and brush with an optional egg glaze or dust with a little buckwheat flour and bake 45 minutes. Enjoy!






