Wild Rice-Molasses Wheat Bread

My bread-making hiatus is over.

Two weekends out of town does put a crimp in domestic pursuits, especially baking. Ditto for an allergic reaction to Italian Walnut-Raisin Wheat Bread – my most recent culinary triumph. But I couldn't post about it -- I was too busy taking hits off my inhaler.

Let me clarify: It wasn’t actually the bread. More like the walnuts. Which was unfortunate because it was a damn fine batch of bread that I would probably make again. If only it didn’t send me into acute respiratory distress with each slice consumed. Ah, the sacrifices we make in the name of health. And an interesting postscript (well, at least to me): This new-found sensitivity seems to extend beyond walnuts to the entire nut family.

Needless to say, two inhalers later, I am now living in a nut-free zone. And hating it.

ANYWAY. I perused “The Bread-making Bible” for a worthy substitute and came up with Wild Rice-Molasses Wheat Bread. Yes, the ingredients sound a little bizarre, but oh mama, this is good eating. I think that whole cube of butter the receipe calls for might have something to do with this.


First you mix butter (melted), molasses, whole wheat, warm milk and yeast mixture together. Yes, I know it looks like poo -- but trust me, it's much more pleasant in person.


Then you start adding flour -- just 1/2 cup at a time. Your goal is "tacky" dough. Love it! How trailer park. I'm sorry. That just slipped out. Won't happen again.

Two risings later (in the laundry room, of course -- darks and whites done, thank you very much), our loaves of love are ready for the oven.


And 45 minutes later, perfection. Seriously.

Whole wheat basil bread

This post isn't about whole wheat basil bread per se. Well, except to say that I made two loaves yesterday to go with the spaghetti and meatballs we were serving to the fam who were over watching God's Basketball Team (aka Gonzaga) play San Diego. (The bread is excellent, by the way.)

This is more about why I, a self-avowed no-bake-nik, actually really enjoy making bread.

It's wonderfully tactile. I love slipping my hands into the warm batter, watching it envelope my hands with a new, yeast-fragrant skin.

I get time to think in a free-floating, James Joyce-ian kind of way. The rhythmic, repetitive process of kneading is excellent for this. When else in the course of a day do you get 10-15 minutes of time where you have nothing else to do than push a gummy blob of dough around on the kitchen counter? I plan my week, think about books I'm reading, watch the finches feeding outside on the seed socks, listen to the dog "huff" softly at some unsuspecting pedestrian strolling by the house, remind myself to call an elusive handyman for about the 40th time, make a couple of mental notes about garden tweaks I want to do in the spring, remember I need to return a guide book on Spain to the library this week, and start to construct a post about Ben and his border collie friend Wally. You get the picture

Bread baking also is the perfect culinary avenue for multi-tasking. Unlike many other types of cooking endeavors, you're not chained to the stove or oven needing to make split-second decisions about the fate of the free world. Dough goes together, dough is kneaded, dough rises. On to the next activity.

Unload the dishwasher


Load the dishwasher


Tidy up the kitchen


Do laundry


Start eggplant parmigiana


Watch iceskating


Finish egg parmigiana


Tidy up the kitchen


Watch iceskating


All in all, a perfectly satisfactory way to spend a Saturday in January. With two loaves of fresh-baked whole wheat basil bread to show for it.