a guest post by Nicole Levine
*an editors note:
Nicole Levine is a pseudonym, a nom de plume, a shout-out to one of my favorite fictional characters of all time. The true unnamed author asked me to keep her identity anonymous, perhaps fearing the possibility of a forced confession, one with her signature at the top of this page. It got me to thinking about the nature of this post, of food and unrequited crushes. Often, when there is an overwhelming presence of feeling, it is easier to sit down and ravish a bloody steak, or a fat piece of warm bread, than it is to name every moment which led you to that meal, every flutter that keeps you eating, and every hunger that you keep quiet. I hope you’ll try her recipe — the bread was superb! — and, at the author’s recommendation, have it for breakfast with your morning coffee.
xo, Pascale
a guest post by Nicole Levine
When he appears at your house on a snowy December night, you will thank the fates for a long lost love. You also curse the fates for bringing him while your apartment is an embarrassing mess and your kitchen empty. THIS is the one I want to marry, you silently scream at them. How can I convince him to marry me if he thinks I don’t know how to keep house? But the fates deposit him in your kitchen and depart without sticking around to watch you look their gift horse in the mouth.
The ensuing weekend is filled with breathless nights and giddy laughter and thoughtless acts of takeout. Sushi, halal buffet, pastries and coffee – all food is eaten with the object of refueling rather than sustaining. As in, once you get that hunger problem taken care of, you can move onto the next thing. Although you want to prove your womanhood by doing something drastic, like baking bread, you resign yourself to the fact that time is limited and you can’t waste it waiting for dough to rise.
At the end of the weekend, he comes by the cafe as your shift ends to say goodbye. You walk him the three blocks to the subway. He lets you hold his hand. In public. And kiss him over the turnstile. You are smart enough not to look back at him once you’ve turned away. You’re even smarter not to cry. You’ve almost convinced yourself that you’ve almost forgotten all about it when he calls a few days later to tell you he is coming back for New Year’s. The fates are giving you a second chance to show your worth. Telling you, go buy groceries – good ones, and clean the house, and BAKE. And you’re smart enough to listen.
The day before he returns, you bake your grandma’s sweet bread for the first time. This, you feel, is a true test of your mettle: subtly sweet, dense yet light; grandma’s bread always exuded warmth, love, and quiet competence. You heat the milk and pound the cardamom and knead and knead and hold your breath while the dough rises. You lovingly form the dough into braided loaves and, towards the end, keep watch through the oven window to ensure that the bottoms don’t burn. Out of the oven, sweet smelling and golden-beige, you know your bread is perfect, and your are confident. As you take in the bread’s aroma, breathing deeply, you are infused with a sense of security in your own womanhood.
The second time he enters your apartment, his eyes take in the braided loaves sitting on the spotless granite countertop, and he looks at you with a new respect and something that could almost (if you weren’t smart enough to know better) border on love.
When the fates give you these presents, it is often only a matter of time until circumstance takes them away. And circumstances, being what they are, keep him out of your reach until the fates are kind enough to return him. But in the meantime, you can bake off some of those perfect loaves and rest assured of your worth as woman, and his sureness of that value.
The Frost Family’s Swedish Christmas Bread
2 cups milk
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup shortening (butter)
2 cups flour (to start, uses lots more)
1/2 tsp. salt
15 cardamom seeds
1 pkg. yeast
1 egg
Yields 2 loaves
Begin by heating the milk over a low heat in a medium saucepot. You do not want the milk to boil – just heat it until a little steam rises off the top. While the milk is heating, remove the cardamom seeds from their pods and pound fine. (This was my job when I was a little girl, and I accomplished it by placing the seeds inside a dishtowel and hammering with a mallet. Now I am a grownup, and have realized that my coffee grinder performs this step equally well.) Remove milk from heat and whisk in the cardamom, sugar, and shortening. Set this mixture aside and allow it to cool to room temperature. When the milk is cooled, activate the yeast in a little tepid water and add it to the milk, mixing thoroughly. Transfer to a large mixing bowl, and add in two cups of flour and blend until smooth, with no lumps. Cover the resulting viscous liquid with a warm, damp dishtowel and let it rise until doubled in bulk (or for one hour, whichever comes first).
Once doubled, add one beaten egg and mix, adding flour gradually until you get a stiff dough. Knead the dough on a clean, well-floured surface and form it into a smooth ball. Clean, dry, and grease the inside of your mixing bowl and roll the dough-ball around inside until it is uniformly greased. Cover with your damp, dry dishtowel and let rise until doubled in bulk.
Shape the dough into loaves, braids or rolls. My mother contends that loaves bake more evenly, but as an aesthete, I prefer braids. If one is vigilant towards the end of the baking process, one may ensure that the bottoms of the braided loaves do not burn. Place your loaves on a lightly greased baking sheet, and let them rise for roughly another hour. This is a good time to preheat your oven to 350f. Bake your loaves at 350 for a half hour to 45 minutes.
Set your timer for 20 minutes, and rotate the pan if it looks like the loaves are baking unevenly. At the 30-minute mark, the tops of the loaves should be beige, and the bottoms should be browning nicely. Remove the loaves when the tops are golden beige, before the bottoms have a chance to blacken.
If you have followed the process correctly, your entire house will smell amazing and you will feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
