Swedish Batter Bread with Cinnamon and Cranberries . . .

My husband walked into the kitchen, spotted this newly baked item on the kitchen counter, and asked the question I'd been anticipating.

Him: "What kind of bundt cake is that?"
Me: "Um, well, actually it's not a bundt cake. It's called Swedish batter bread, with cinnamon and dried cranberries. It's made with yeast."

Him: "Really? But didn't you bake it in one of those bundt pans?"
Me: "No. It was made in a kugelhopf pan."
Brief silence.
Him, with affectionate sarcasm: "Ohhhh, of course. A kugelhopf pan. I should have known."

He loves to tease me about the odd minutiae of baking. The wacky pans, the loonier methods/techniques, the sometimes off-beat ingredients. And that's okay with me. I figure it helps keep me from taking all of this too seriously. I assumed he'd have something funny to say about this particular recipe, because this is one of those baked goods that's not easily categorized.

It has the texture of a hearty cake or maybe even a muffin, which I found kind of surprising. I'd expected it to be at least a little more bready. The flavor, though, was as I expected--nicely mild, not very sweet, but still cinnamony. Luckily, Andy (the hubby), really loved this batter bread. He munched it with coffee in the morning for a few days, and I tucked a little piece of it into his lunchbox. Yesterday, when it was legitimately stale and he found out I'd thrown the small remainder away, he pretended to cry. That guy.

About this recipe . . . 

Adapted from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book by Beatrice Ojakangas (a wonderful book, by the way), this batter bread was originally intended to feature saffron and golden raisins. I toyed with the idea of using saffron with dried cranberries (I'm not crazy about golden raisins), but then realized I wasn't even in a saffron mood at all. I was in a cinnamon mood.

I also decided to refrain from sprinkling the finished bread with the recommended powdered sugar, and used cinnamon sugar instead. That was a good choice. I modified the method for putting this together slightly, used instant yeast instead of active dry, and added in a little nutmeg along with the cinnamon. I reworded the recipe to reflect all of my changes.

Swedish Batter Bread with Cinnamon and Cranberries
(For a printable version of this recipe,  click here!)

Yield: One 10" loaf made in a kugelhopf, tube, or bundt pan

1 and 1/2 tsp. instant yeast (or, 1 package active dry yeast, which you'll need to proof in the 1/4 cup of warm water below)
1/4 cup lukewarm water
1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1/4 tsp. salt (I used fine sea salt.)
1/2 cup milk, slightly warm (Ojakangas says to scald and cool the milk; whether this old-fashioned scalding step is still necessary these days with modern milk is up for debate. In any case, use milk that's warm. I did not scald it first.)
1 and 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg (Freshly ground is best; do it yourself when possible!)
3 cups all-purpose flour (I used unbleached.)
3/4 cup dried cranberries
3 Tbsp. granulated sugar mixed with 1 tsp. ground cinnamon (to sprinkle on finished bread)

In the large bowl of your mixer, cream together the butter and sugar until fluffy. Add in the room-temperature eggs along with the salt, beating until smooth. On the lowest speed, add in the yeast, water, and milk.

In a separate bowl, whisk the cinnamon and nutmeg together with the flour, then add it gradually into the mixer bowl, still on the low speed. Raise the speed to medium, and beat for five minutes, stopping to scrape the bowl and beaters now and then.

Add in the cranberries on low speed, mixing until combined.

Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, place it in a warm spot, and let the batter rise until it's doubled in size; this will take about 1and 1/2 to 2 hours.

Prepare your pan by liberally brushing it with soft, unsalted butter and lightly flouring it, or use baking spray (if you use baking spray, be careful not to let it pool in the bottom of the pan. Before you transfer your batter from the bowl into the pan, use a pastry brush to even it out and make sure you've gotten all the nooks and crannies, especially if you're using a kugelhopf/bundt pan.)

When the batter has doubled, stir it down; it will deflate considerably. Pour all of the batter into the prepared pan. Cover the top of the pan with plastic wrap and place it in a warm spot until the batter approaches the top of the pan (I let my batter rise to about an inch from the top of the pan); this should take about 1 hour.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees while the batter's rising.

Bake the bread for about 40 to 45 minutes. It should be quite golden brown on the outside. I tested mine with a toothpick, too.

Cool the bread in its pan for 15 minutes then invert it onto a cooling rack.

While still warm but not hot, set the bread still on its rack over a baking sheet and liberally dust the top of it with the cinnamon sugar.

(If you'd like to comment on this post, or to read any existing comments, please click on the purple COMMENTS below!)

Chocolate-Almond Filled Coffee Braid . . . and that Music in the Distance

A few days ago, as I sat in the same spot where I am now, windows open and the cool autumn air breezing in, I could hear my younger son's high school marching band practicing in the distance. They were already outside the school at 8 a.m., their band class well underway, polishing things up for their next performance. Though at least half a mile east of my house, I could clearly hear the telltale thump of the percussion players and the brassy wail of the trumpets.

I love this kind of thing.

I love the fact that I live in a city small and compact enough that this is even possible. From the other direction, to the northwest just a couple of blocks, I can also hear little kids squealing at recess later in the day, outside of the elementary school my boys attended years ago. Then, each evening precisely at 6pm, bells reliably ring out from a church nearby. It's a cozy feeling.

This comparatively tiny community that we occupy just north of Detroit is, in fact, remarkably unlike the huge suburb where I grew up, which was sprawling and seemed to me, back then at least, to be a rather characterless place that had no discernible center.

It's comforting living in a small place, especially when bigger cities and all they offer aren't far away. You never have to feel lost here, either literally or figuratively. It's practically impossible to go outside without seeing someone you know well enough to chat with or, at the very least, someone you recognize. This little metropolis isn't fancy by any means but, as corny and cliche as this must sound, it's loaded with heart.



And what does that preamble have to do with today's recipe? Well, if I hadn't been alone in my kitchen with the windows open, working quietly on this chocolate almond braid, I wouldn't have heard that music or the joyous shrieks and squeals later in the day. Nor would I have had yet another opportunity to experience the simple satisfaction of actually liking where I live.

And, so, once more I realize that baking offers benefits beyond the obvious. It can be calming and contemplative, sort of like gardening or taking a long walk. I don't think it would be stretching it to say that I find the activity of baking restorative. I seem to turn to it for all sorts of reasons.

Is it like that for you, too?

About this recipe . . .

Remember the collapse of that giant bookshelf I told you about in my last post? That event catalyzed my husband and I to do long overdue sorting, discarding, and reorganizing. (Let's just say the garbage man must be wondering what the heck happened around here, and my paper shredder is considering joining a labor union.) Anyway, while sorting this and that, I found a faded magazine clipping bearing this recipe among a pile of stuff I'd saved in an old file cabinet. From the February 1989 issue of Good Housekeeping magazine, this is the kind of baked good that many such magazines don't seem to print anymore. It's beautifully old-fashioned, like something one of your favorite aunts would famously bring to big family parties when you were a kid. It's a not-too-sweet yeast bread filled with a mixture made of cream cheese, almond paste, and semi-sweet chocolate.

I changed very little in the recipe, but substantially reworded it to reflect exactly how I customized its preparation. I used an instant yeast specifically designed for rich, sweet doughs vs. regular active dry yeast (though I have no doubt it would be fine with the latter). Part of my almond paste was homemade vs. purchased, because I only had about 5 oz. of the store-bought stuff on hand. (I do think professionally produced almond paste tastes better, is more concentrated, and has better texture and color than most homemade versions. I haven't yet perfected making the stuff at home.)

Beware: This makes a really large loaf! You will get at least 16 very generous slices out of this baby, easy. And it's not shaped into a real braid--it's just a faux braid, so don't get scared; it's really easy to make. The loaf I made was probably 18" long and 7" wide, after baking. Next time, I might cut the dough in half and make two smaller loaves, though the big loaf is certainly impressive in its own enormous way!

Chocolate-Almond Coffee Braid
(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Makes one large 18" loaf (at least 16 thick slices).

For the dough:
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. salt (I used coarse kosher.)
1 and 3/4 tsp. instant yeast (I always use instant, but it's fine to use 1 pkt. active dry yeast instead.)
Approx. 5 cups all-purpose flour (I used unbleached.)
3/4 cup milk (I used 2 percent.)
5 Tbsp. butter, unsalted
2 eggs, large

1 egg white (to mix with water and brush on the unbaked loaf)
2 oz. semi-sweet baking chocolate (to melt and drizzle on the baked loaf)


For the chocolate-almond filling
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
7 to 8 oz. almond paste (not the same thing as marzipan, just fyi!)
1 egg yolk
3 oz. of semi-sweet baking chocolate, chopped into very small pieces
 

For the streusel topping: 
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 Tbsp. granulated sugar
2 Tbsp. unsalted butter, room temperature
3 Tbsp. sliced almonds


To prepare the dough:


In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment on low speed, combine the sugar, salt, yeast, and 1 cup of the flour.

In a microwave safe bowl, or on the stove top in a saucepan, slightly warm the milk, butter, and 1/4 cup of water until just lukewarm. You don't need to fully melt the butter. With the mixer on low speed, pour the liquid into the dry ingredients; beat only until blended. Now at medium speed, beat for about 2 minutes, stopping to scrape now and then. Beat in the eggs, along with 2 more cups of the flour; blend for 2 minutes.

Remove the bowl from the mixer, and add in 1 and 1/2 cups more of the flour, stirring by hand with a wooden spoon or a dough whisk (I love my dough whisk). The dough will be pretty soft.

Flour your work surface and dump the dough onto it.

Keep 1/2 cup of flour close at hand. Knead the dough until its texture is smooth and elastic, adding more flour to your surface and to the dough as needed; this could take up to ten minutes. (If you decide to do this step on your mixer, using the dough hook, cut the kneading time in half. Be watchful, in any case, not to overwork the dough. You'll know you've gone too far if the dough suddenly seems slack, lifeless, and lacks elasticity; if this happens, the dough can't be salvaged and there is nothing to be done but to start over. Over-mixing is more likely to occur with a rich dough like this than with a lean dough like that for a simple white bread.)

Round the dough into a ball and place it into a well-greased or oiled bowl, or spray the bowl with vegetable oil spray, like Pam--that's what I use. Turn the ball over in the bowl so it's coated. Spray/grease a sheet of plastic wrap on one side and put that, sprayed side down, over the bowl.

Cover the whole thing with a lightweight dish towel and place it in a warm, draft-free spot to rise. The dough should approximately double in size within about one hour.

While the dough is rising, make the chocolate-almond filling and the streusel. 

To make the chocolate-almond filling:
Put the cream cheese, almond paste (broken into chunks), and 1 egg yolk into the large bowl of your mixer. Using the paddle attachment, blend together until on low speed until the mixture smooths out. Add  the chopped chocolate and blend it in. Store the filling in the refrigerator until you're ready to use it.

To make the streusel:
Mix the flour, sugar, and butter together in a small bowl using your fingers. You want the streusel to look like big, coarse, uneven crumbs. Add in the sliced almonds last, being careful not to break all them into bits. Store the streusel in the fridge until ready to use.

When the dough has doubled in size: 
Dump the risen dough out onto a very lightly floured surface and press it firmly but gently with the palms of your hands. You are just trying to deflate it (or "de-gas" it as a baking teacher would tell you!). Lightly cover the deflated dough with the greased plastic wrap and let it rest for 10 to 15 minutes.

Prepare your workspace for rolling out the dough. You can roll it right on a large baking sheet if you prefer, but I wanted to roll out my dough on the piece of parchment on which it would actually bake (you can then just slide the whole thing, paper and all, right onto your baking sheet). To keep the parchment from sliding around, I clipped the edge of it to my worktable with a big, strong, binder clip.

Flour your rolling pin. Put the rested dough onto your surface and roll the dough into a rounded rectangle about 16" long and 12" wide.

Remove your filling from the fridge, give it a good stir, and spread all of it in a 4" strip down the center of the dough, lengthwise.

Using a pizza/pastry wheel, cut slits in the dough on each side, almost up to the point of the filling (the strips created by the slits can be narrow or wide, as you prefer; my strips were slightly over 1/2" wide).

Then, starting at the top, lifting the strips one by one alternately from each side, fold them over the filling. Do this for the whole length of the loaf, then pinch the two far ends tightly closed with your fingers.

Cover the loaf again with greased/sprayed plastic wrap and cover it with the dish towel. Let it rise again (ie., let it "proof") in a warm spot; this time for 30 minutes. It will expand, but not necessarily by much. Don't wait for it to double in size.

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.

Mix the egg white in a little bowl with a tablespoon or two of water. Using a pastry brush, gently and lightly coat the unbaked loaf when it's done proofing (that is, when it's done with its final rise).

Sprinkle all of the streusel evenly in a strip down the center length of the loaf.

Bake the loaf on a large sheet pan (it will expand in the oven, so plan accordingly!) for about 30 minutes, until it's golden all over. Check it about 20 minutes into the baking time and, if it's browning quickly, cover it lightly with foil. Also, reverse the pan from back to front for more even heat and color.

When the loaf is done, let it cool on the pan for a few minutes, then move it to a cooling rack. When the loaf is cooled, melt the semi-sweet chocolate carefully in the microwave (chocolate burns really quickly), and pour it into a zip-lock sandwich bag. Using a sharp pair of scissors, cut an extremely tiny hole in one of the corners of the bag. Cut it just enough to let a dinky little stream of chocolate flow through when you squeeze the bag. Drizzle the chocolate back and forth over the entire loaf.

 (If you'd like to comment on this post, or to read any existing comments, please click on the purple COMMENTS below!)

Blackberry & Blueberry Kuchen . . . The Simple Comfort of Coffee Cake

What I choose to bake on any given day usually depends on four things: how much time I have; which ingredients are already in my cupboard; what I'm in the mood to prepare; and, whether or not my family members are likely to show enthusiasm for the dish I'm contemplating. Even with those limiting factors in play, the inherent freedom of home baking and the creative liberties that it allows make up an enormous part of what I love about the whole process.

It's encouraging to know that just about anyone can combine a bunch of seemingly disparate ingredients and be rewarded with a tasty, and often impressive, result. Taking into account all of the customizing and occasionally fool-hardy recipe tweaking we chronic bakers tend to engage in, that's comforting knowledge, don't you think?

I suppose it's sort of like one's faithful acceptance that a car can be driven to its intended destination even if  the windows have been tinted purple, the radio's been replaced by a waffle iron, and the interior's been  reupholstered in pink crushed-velvet. Baking is similarly flexible, at least to a certain degree. Just remember, figuratively speaking, not to remove the car's engine and everything should be okay.

When the yen to bake strikes, I try to zero in on a recipe that satisfies that familiar quartet of requirements, yet still leaves room for interpretation. This coffee cake provides an uncomplicated case in point.

About this recipe . . . 

Last weekend, with a grand total of about two hours available to me--start to finish--I assembled this yeasted coffee cake (or kuchen, for those of you who prefer to sprechen zie Deutsch!) without any stress or strain.

Adapted from The Grand Central Baking Book, by Piper Davis and Ellen Jackson (lots of good stuff in this beautiful book), the original formula called for three cups of red raspberries and cherries. I had neither of those in my fridge, but I did have a few handfuls of blackberries and blueberries that were almost overripe, so I subbed in a scant two cups of those. The recipe called for turbinado sugar; I didn't have that so I used coarse, moist Demarara sugar instead. (If neither of those happen to inhabit your pantry, just use our old stand-by, brown sugar). The instructions also called for active dry yeast, as most home-baking cookbooks tend to do, but I opted for instant yeast; though harder to find in stores, it's easier to use than active dry (no proofing needed) and, in my experience, more reliable overall.

This baby was thrown together without the aid of a mixer, all in about 20 minutes--no kidding. The dough rose in its baking pan for almost an hour, then it was topped with the berries, sparkly golden sugar, and finally it was drizzled with melted butter. When it emerged from the oven about 40 minutes later, looking like a dream, I knew the planets had aligned perfectly once again.  I love it when the world works like that.

Blackberry and Blueberry Kuchen
(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Lightly grease and flour a 9" x 13" baking pan, or use baking spray.

For the batter:
1 and 1/2 cups whole milk (I didn't have whole milk on hand, so I used 1 and 1/4 cups of  2% milk mixed with 1/4 cup of half-and-half) 
1/2 cup of light brown sugar, packed
5 oz. unsalted butter (That's 1 stick plus 2 Tbsp.)
2 tsp. instant yeast (Or, 1 Tbsp. active dry yeast.)
3 large eggs, room temperature
3 and 1/2 cups All Purpose flour (Sifting not required, but I always fluff it with a whisk before measuring.)
1 and 1/2 tsp. salt (I used kosher salt.) 

For the topping: 
1 cup clean, ripe blackberries
1 cup clean, ripe blueberries
1/4 cup Demarara or Turbinado sugar (Regular light brown sugar, loosely packed, can be substituted.)
4 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted

Vanilla Glaze:
1 cups confectioners' sugar (Helpful if it's sifted, but not critical. Good idea to have more than 1 cup on hand in case you want a thicker glaze.)
Heavy cream or half-and-half, at least 2 Tbsp. (Have more on hand so you can adjust the thickness of your glaze.)
1/2 to 1 tsp. vanilla extract (The more you add, the more beige your glaze will be.) 

In a medium saucepan over a low flame, stir together the milk, brown sugar, and butter until just warm. (If you're using active dry yeast instead of instant yeast, proof it now by adding it into this mixture--once the pan is off the heat--and let it stand for about 10 minutes until it begins to look bubbly.  If this mixture is above about 115 degrees when you add in active dry yeast, you might murder it, so be careful. Shoot for about 110 degrees.)


In a small bowl, whisk the eggs just to break them up. 

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and instant yeast. Pour the eggs and the milk mixture into this, stirring gently, just until combined. 

Spread the batter into the prepared pan and cover it with plastic wrap. 

Place the pan in a warm spot and let it rise for about 1 hour, until it's doubled. (Don't expect drama; the batter will be pretty flat to start with so even when doubled it won't look that much higher in the pan.) 

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Once the batter has risen, scatter the berries over the top evenly. 

Sprinkle the Demarara/Turbinado sugar all over the top and drizzle the melted butter over that. 

Bake uncovered on the middle rack for 25 to 30 minutes at 350 degrees; then decrease the oven temperature to 325 degrees and bake for another 10 to 15 minutes. The cake is done when it's lightly golden on top and darker golden near the sides. 

While the coffee cake is baking, mix together all of the glaze ingredients in a small bowl, stirring until completely smooth.


Let the kuchen cool in its pan, on a rack, for five to ten minutes. 

Then, invert it onto another rack or onto a sheet pan, then invert it again so it's right side up on the cooling rack. 

Place the cake, on the rack, onto a sheet pan with sides, and drizzle the glaze all over the top with a spoon or whisk. 

Really good when served warm, and definitely best when it's extremely fresh.