Tag Archives: bread

No Knead Bread with Seeded Crust

No Knead Bread with Seeded Crust

This is by far the most popular bread recipe that I make, with a crispy beautiful crust on the outside and a soft moist crumb on the inside. It is also one of the easiest breads you can make. As the title suggests, no kneading is required. Just a little time, a few ingredients and a cast iron pot. Start this bread the night before you want to eat it.

No Knead Bread with Seeded Crust


    • 470 grams strong white bread flour*
    • 1/4 teaspoon yeast
    • 10g fine sea salt
    • 350 ml water (warm or cold, just not boiling hot)
    • A bit of oil for coating a bowl
    • mixed seeds (I use poppy and sesame)

Tools needed:

  • mixing bowl
  • paper towels
  • spoon (or your hands)
  • cast iron pot with a lid
  • oven


  1. Mix together the flour, yeast, salt and water in a mixing bowl using your hands or a spoon (it should look like a shaggy dough ball). Cover with cling film (or a plate) and let it rest for 12-24 hours. After 12-24 hours, the dough will have risen and filled the bowl.
  2. Flour a work surface and “pour” the dough out of the bowl onto the floured surface – I use a spatula to scrape the dough off the sides of the bowl.
  3. Gently stretch out the dough into a flat squarish shape. Fold the dough into thirds as you would a letter, then fold it again into thirds in the other direction. This should give you a little folded up parcel with a seam – rest the dough with the SEAM SIDE DOWN on the work surface for about 15 minutes.
  4. While the dough rests, clean and dry your bowl.
  5. Oil the inside of the boil and spread it around with a paper towel. Put your seeds in the bowl and tip the bowl around so that the seeds cover the inside of the bowl.
  6. Place the dough into the bowl with the SEAM SIDE DOWN.
  7. Let the dough rest for about an hour or so.
  8. About half an hour before you’re going to make the loaf, put your cast iron pot and lid into the oven and turn the oven up as high as it goes (mine maxes out at 220 C). Let the oven heat up for about 30 minutes so that it’s good and hot (and the pot too).
  9. When the oven is ready, remove the cast iron pot from the oven. Remove the lid.
  10. Take your bowl with the dough in it and rotate it around to loosen the dough from the seeds. Now be brave and quickly flip the dough out of the pot into the hot cast iron pan (ideally it will land with all of the seeds facing upwards but don’t despair if it catches on the side of the pot and looks a mess – this bread is very forgiving).
  11. Put the lid back on the pot (be careful, it’s hot!) then put the pot into the oven.
  12. Bake for 20 minutes. Then remove the lid, turn the oven down to 200 C, and bake for another 10-15 minutes, until the top is nicely golden brown.
  13. Remove from the oven, remove the bread from the pot, and let it cool (ideally for at least 40 minutes) before slicing. (Or rip into it straight away – it’s all good!)

* You can also use wholemeal flour here, or a mixture of white and wholemeal, but the rise might not be dramatic.

Related posts:

How I Make Sourdough Bread

Been using #JuiceFeast as an opportunity to practise my #sourdough. Really happy with how it's coming along (thank you @ed_fryer).

Having posted a few pictures of my sourdough loaves in recent weeks, a few people have asked me for my recipe. Making sourdough is about a lot more than just a recipe. True, I follow the book Tartine Bread very closely (a very generous gift from my friend Rita Munn in Tennessee which really got me going on sourdough bread baking). But the truth is, I’ve only ever become “good” at sourdough (and I put “good” in parentheses because I still have so much to learn) by baking a lot of loaves and talking to other people who bake sourdough. A recipe will get you started, but only practice – and probably a lot of shitty results – will get you to the kind of loaf you’re after.

Practice will teach you when your sourdough starter is happy and well.

Practice will teach you how the dough should “feel” when it’s ready for breaking.

Practice will get you good at working with a dough scraper and a dough knife. Practice will give you the confidence to let your bread rise in baskets and flip them over into a hot oven!

Practice as often as you can, and don’t be sad if you have to throw away a loaf or two (or make a lot of breadcrumbs) – it’s all part of the learning process.

If it makes you feel any better, this is what my loaves looked like in the beginning:

Try as I may...

The best help I’ve had with sourdough baking is through talking to fellow bakers, most recently Ed Fryer (#edbakes), and also Gloria Nicol and Azelia Torres. This has been especially true of getting to grips with sourdough starter, the place where everything begins.

I do recommend the book Tartine Bread for its extremely detailed description of how to make sourdough, including step-by-step photographs from start to finish. It also has a good set of recipes on which to build on once you get comfortable with the “basic country loaf”. I’m sure other bakers out there have similar tomes they could recommend.

Finally, there is no substitute for hands on guidance. Dan Lepard runs excellent sourdough masterclasses at Cookery School at Little Portland Street in London. Rachel Demuth also runs top notch bread making classes at Demuths Cookery School in Bath. Again, I’m sure there are loads more classes you could choose from as sourdough is become super trendy (and rightfully so).

Sourdough explosion: car snacks for travel buddy and leftovers for @Airbnb guests, who get mega props for funding this weekend's Cornwall mission (partially at least).

If you do start getting serious about your sourdough practice, you might find you have a lot of extra sourdough starter on your hands, in which case I recommend making some Sourdough Pancakes and/or Sourdough Crepes.

Any other recommended reading on sourdough? Recipes that use up sourdough starter? Fabulous baker peeps that sourdough bakers should follow? Please share in the comments!


The Easiest No Knead Bread Recipe Ever

I’ve been a little quiet these last four weeks, due to recent holiday travels to the States which typically saw a serious decline in all productivity (the evidence is in the nearly 1000 photos I took while there). On the plus side, it saw a huge upswing in QFT (Quality Family Time) and gave me the chance to binge on baking as I knew I’d have plenty of willing recipients to devour my creations!

One of my staple bakes is the infamous no knead bread. I have been making this loaf for years and it is the bread I bake most (see Easiest No Knead Bread with Variations). There are two reasons for this: (1) it’s the easiest bread recipe in the world and (2) it is the bread that always gets the most positive reviews (which makes me wonder why I slave over sourdough, but that’s a topic for another time and place).

The no knead bread recipe is based on this recipe from the New York Times. And it really is a loaf that ANYONE can make – mix the dough, let it rest for ages, shape it, then bake it. The only tricky part is that it requires a dutch oven or cast iron pot, and involves transferring the risen dough into the hot pot after it’s pre-heated in the oven. This step is easy to overcome, but still, as much as I’ve tried to convince the people who love this loaf that YES THEY CAN bake it themselves, few give it a go. I guess buying a loaf is still just that much easier – and far less scary. Until now!

No knead bread just got way easier. Lazy approach wins. Baked this one 36 hours after mixing the dough in a bread tin (no proving).

While I was in Chicago, having fun and neglecting this blog, I was also often neglecting my dough! I’d mix the dough with the best intentions but then something would come up and take me out of the kitchen for hours or days. The original no knead bread recipe says to let the dough rise 12-18 hours, but there were times when I’d let the dough rise for 36-48 hours. Gasp!

There were other times when I didn’t have a lidded pot to cook it in. Surely I was cruisin’ for disaster.

And yet, every loaf turned out just fine. In fact, better than fine. The bread – and in turn, the toast – became legendary!

Dad, Monica, Bread

This was the trip where I learned just how forgiving the no knead recipe is. Not only can you let the dough sit for days, but you can also bake the loaf in a normal bread pan without a lid and still get stellar results (see the recipe below).

I did this a LOT while my relatives from Ohio were in town. Toast was high on the breakfast agenda, and my family quickly soon started referring to me as the “toast fairy” because their kids would wake up and there the bread would be, magically waiting for them with butter and jam (what can I say, I’ve had a lot of practise with Airbnb). This was almost as magical as the view outside (prime toast-eating weather):

Snow Globe -esque

Throughout their stay, the “toast fairy” theme took on a life of its own – we schemed ideas for cafes and childrens books and animated movies. After all, who in the world isn’t comforted by a slice of toast? Consequentially, this is not a new discovery – San Francisco is already hip to the artisan toast trend (as written in this highly moving article in the Pacific Standard about where it began); it’s only a matter of time before the toast trend hits London. Which makes me wonder, being the “toast fairy”, if I’ve stumbled upon my true calling?

Toast Fairy Apron from Melissa and Jim

(I big pile of thanks to Jim and Melissa for the apron! If only toast travelled well, I’d send you a thank you slice from here to Ohio!)

Now here is that recipe I promised. People who fear baking bread, I implore you to try this! You can and will succeed!

5.0 from 1 reviews

The Easiest No Knead Bread Recipe Ever
Recipe type: Bread

This is a simplified version of Jim Lahey’s no knead bread recipe. This recipe is for people who don’t have a lidded pot to bake in, or who are intimidated by some of the steps in Lahey’s method. When you’re ready to take things to the next level, check out my previous post on no knead bread with variations – the seeded crust variation is my favourite.
  • 3 cups (470g) all-purpose or bread flour
  • ¼ teaspoon instant yeast
  • 1.25 teaspoons (10g) salt
  • a little milk
  • sesame and poppy seeds (optional)

  1. In a large bowl combine flour, yeast and salt. Add 1⅝ cups (350g) water, and stir until blended; dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rest at least 12 hours, preferably about 18, at warm room temperature. I’ve left the dough for as much as 36-48 hours and it works just fine!
  2. The dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface (or a big plate or cutting board). Wet your hand and use it to pull the dough out of the bough and onto the work surface. Fold the dough into thirds (as if you were folding a letter), then rotate the dough and fold it into thirds again.
  3. Lightly grease a bread pan. Place the dough into the pan with the folded seam up. Brush a little milk or water onto the loaf and sprinkle with sesame and poppy seeds. Let the dough rest 60-120 minutes (you don’t HAVE to do this but it can help – definitely don’t let it rest more than 2 hours).
  4. Preheat the oven to 500 F / 260 C (or as hot as the oven will go). Put the bread in the oven. After 20 minutes, turn the oven down to 400 F / 200 C. Check the loaf and make sure it’s not getting too dark – if it is, cover it with some foil. Bake for another 15 minutes.
  5. Cool the loaf on a wire rack.


Free Form Bread with Seeded White Flour

Seeded White Loaf

I’ve written about this recipe before (see Malted Grain Loaf: best loaf ever?) but thought it was worth another moment in the spotlight after a recent success adapting it to use Shipton Mill’s new Seeded White Flour.

I made this bread for my Airbnb guests last weekend, who arrived just as the bread was coming out of the oven (my most recent prototypical Country Living moment). I served this bread as part of my Airbnb “complimentary help-yourself breakfast”, along with butter, jam, muesli, milk, fresh fruit, coffee and tea.

I am always fascinated by what my guests choose to eat for breakfast, and for these folks, breakfast seemed to consist of nearly an entire loaf of bread, Keens cheddar and marrow chutney. And they had the same breakfast for the remainder of their three-night stay. I needed to make more bread!

Malted Grain Loaf

What I love about this recipe is that it works really well for free-form loaves (vs tin loaves). It is also a yeasted bread so I can make a loaf within a few hours, making it a good contender for morning baking and lunchtime eating.

This particular recipe seems well suited for heartier flours (the original uses malted grain flour, and the Shipton Mill’s seeded white flour is full of, well, seeds – sunflower, linseed, millet, poppy and pumpkin seeds). The dough is denser than the no knead bread I’m used to, but I suppose that’s why it works for free form baking.

I’d like to try this recipe with pure white or pure wholemeal flour and see if I have the same success. This will no doubt require adjusting the recipe somewhat to adapt to the different hydration levels that such flours require – such are the lessons in baking. And speaking of bread baking lessons, I think the basic one is this: most bread recipes are basically the same, it’s just a matter of adjusting the flour and water ratio to get a dough that “feels right”. And the only way to learn that is through practice. Time to make more bread…

5.0 from 1 reviews

Free Form Multigrain Bread
Recipe type: Bread

Adapted from the River Cottage’s malted grain loaf recipe.
  • 500g multigrain flour (such as malted bread flour or Shipton Mill’s seeded white flour)
  • 5g dried yeast
  • 10g fine sea salt
  • 300ml warm water
  • About 1 tbsp melted butter, or rapeseed or olive oil (I used olive oil)
  • Rye flour, for coating (optional)

  1. Combine the flour, yeast and salt in a large mixing bowl. Add the water and mix to a rough dough (I recommend using your hands). Add the butter or oil and mix well. Adjust the consistency if you need to with a little more flour or water to make a soft, easily kneadable, sticky dough.
  2. Turn the dough out on to a work surface and knead until smooth and satiny – roughly 10 minutes (or if you have a blender with a dough hook, use that). Cover the bowl with cling film and leave until doubled in size – anywhere from 45 minutes to 90 minutes, possibly even longer depending on the temperature of your kitchen. When it’s ready it should look like this:
  3. Deflate (‘knock back’) the dough by tipping it on to the work surface and pressing all over with your fingertips. Then shape the dough into a loaf, dusting it with a little rye flour if you have some. Transfer to a well-floured board, linen cloth or proving basket, lay a plastic bag over it and leave to prove, until almost doubled in size again.
  4. Preheat the oven to 250°C/Gas Mark 9 (or at least 220°C/gas 7, if that’s your top limit), then put a pizza stone or baking tray in to heat up. Have ready, if possible, a clean gardener’s spray bottle full of water – you’ll be using this to create a steamy atmosphere in the oven, which helps the bread to rise and develop a good crust. (You can achieve the same effect with a roasting tin of boiling water placed on the bottom of the oven just before you put the loaf in – but the spray bottle is easier.)
  5. Transfer the loaf to the hot tray, removed from the oven. Slash the top, if you wish, with a serrated knife. Put the loaf into the hot oven and give a few squirts from the spray bottle over and around it before closing the door as quickly as you can.
  6. Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce the heat to 200°C/gas 6 and continue baking until well browned and hollow-sounding when tapped – around 30 minutes.
  7. Leave to cool completely on a rack before slicing.



Kate’s Aubergine Caviar from Gascony

Aubergine Caviar

Don’t let the word caviar fool you: there’s not a fish egg to be found in this vegan recipe I learned while road tripping through France and Spain this summer. One of my stopping points was Kate Hill’s place at Camont (aka Kitchen at Camont) in Gascony where I spent a life-changing weekend last summer on a food photography workshop with Kate and Tim Clinch. This time, the visit was more of a social call, a reunion if you will with Kate and Mardi, and since the focus wasn’t on food photography, I was actually able to participate more in the food itself.


One of the highlights was this aubergine caviar, which is sort of like a Gascon twist on the Moutabel I wrote about a few weeks ago. Kate recently published the recipe in her latest “Basix” eBook of Summer Recipes from Gascony, but as Kate explains, it’s so simple that you don’t need a strict recipe at all.

Aubergine night at #camont

To make the aubergine caviar, Kate grilled a large aubergine until it was blackened on all sides and soft in the middle (you can achieve this by roasting the aubergine in a hot oven for 30-40 minutes). After the aubergine cooled, Kate peeled and scooped out the flesh into a large bowl, added a couple cloves of minced garlic, a good squeeze of lemon juice, a good glug of olive oil, salt, pepper and – the Gascon moment – about half a cup of coarsely chopped pitted black olives.

Kate served the aubergine caviar on toasted bread, like a bruschetta (or “tartine” – this is France, after all) for a marvellously simple lunch, alongside fresh picked salad leaves from her garden.

Last lunch at Camont

It’s a hallmark of much of Kate’s cooking, and Gascon cuisine in general: use really good ingredients, cook them simply and – most importantly – taste your food. Pay attention to flavours. Does it need more lemon? Salt? And don’t be afraid to experiment – you could try adding some anchovies to the caviar if you’d like.

When you take the time to source quality ingredients, cook it with care and eat it with deliberate attention to your senses, you can’t help but slow down and enjoy what’s on your plate. It’s the Gascon way! And another life-changing moment, aubergine style, courtesy of Kate, Camont and the land. Merci!

Kate's tartine henge

Gascony “Basix”:

I travelled to Gascony by car from with Brittany Ferries (0871 244 1400; www.brittany-ferries.co.uk), sailing from Portsmouth to St. Malo.

Kate Hill is an author and professional cook who runs cookery classes, charcuterie workshops and road trips at Camont and in the Basque country (kitchen-at-camont.com).

More vegetarian French recipes can be found in Kate’s eBook: 6 Summer Recipes from Gascony.

This post also appeared on Great British Chefs.

Mushrooms on Toast with “Limon Tuzu”

Mushrooms on Toast

Last week I received a mysterious parcel. The box read “alternating pressure pump”, but inside was neither pressure pump, bicycle pump nor breast pump. Instead, this was box recycling at its best: what once held a pressure pump now bore a wonder of delights from my friend Tim Clinch, that rad peep photographer I met in Gascony last summer and who runs stellar food photography workshops in beautiful places like France, Bulgaria and Spain.


A few weeks ago I sent Tim a sample of the life-changing salsa macha, along with some dried chillies so he can make his own. In return, he sent me some of his homemade “oh fukkah it’s really good” dukkah along with an array of Turkish delights like date syrup, the best sumac ever (so far), dried gooseberries, a curious “raisin sausage” and this “limon tuzu”, aka lemon salt. Foodie pen pals are the best pen pals, don’t you think?

I’ve been having fun experimenting with the dukkah and spices (I’m saving the “sausage” for a special occasion). The dukkah is quickly becoming one of those “good with everything” sort of foods (much like salsa macha, and Chicago-style giardiniera since we’re on the subject). Today, it was time to tap the tuzu.

Lemon Salt

It was a spontaneous act, adding the lemon salt to the mushrooms. I was in a hunger-induced, post-swim, post-dog-walk panic, hastily frying the mushrooms, toasting the toast and barely finding the will to wash the rocket. It was time to salt the shrooms and I saw the tuzu before the sea salt, so in it went, and it totally transformed this fairly common breakfast into something totally tart, fresh and “fukkah yeah awesome”. A bit of thyme would have been great in here, but I couldn’t be bothered going outside so settled for a pinch of za’atar, which actually worked a treat.

In one sentence, here’s how it all came together: sautéed mushrooms with lemon salt and black pepper, served on sourdough toast with avocado, rocket and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar.

It took maybe 10 minutes to make, and I had to fight myself not to devour it in the same short amount of time.

My next mission is to photograph the dukkah as well as Tim photographed my chillies (see his blog – seriously, Tim, I will pay you for a print). Maybe Tim can help on this front, too… in fact, I know he can. And besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Bulgaria (I hear they have good cheese…and great photographers).

Baking with Nimo: Assyrian “Eight Day” Bread

"Eight day bread"

Last January my mother introduced me to her friend, Nimo, an Assyrian woman who’s managed that rare thing in America: to migrate to the states without losing her cultural food tradition. My mom’s been raving to me about Nimo for years, often sending me photos and scribbles from their cooking sessions, making such things as tabbouleh, lentil dumplings, Turkish bread, and stuffed aubergine. Given my propensity for Middle Eastern cuisine, it was no wonder why I “had to meet this woman”.

Making "eight day bread

Assyria is an ancient territory that dissolved in the mid-seventh century and is now part of several nations including northern Iraq, part of southeast Turkey and northeast Syria. Though Nimo now lives in Chicago, her roots are firmly in her heritage, and this especially applies to her cooking. Nimo bakes from her tradition, using the recipes that her grandmother taught her how to make, rarely measuring anything and often not knowing the English words to describe them, which made follow-up research a tad challenging, but also hugely educational.

One such dish that Nimo taught us is what she called “eight day bread”, a sweet, egg-enriched braided bread that is eaten across the countries of the former Ottoman empire and in Greece and Armenia has specific associations with Easter. In Armenia it’s called “choereg” and in Greece it’s called “tsoureki” or “lampropsomo”, derived from the Greek words for “Easter” and “bread” and refers to the light Christians believe is given by Christ’s resurrection.

Rolling dough for the sweet bread

There are many varieties of these festive breads, but what gives it its distinctive flavour and aroma is mahleb, an aromatic spice made from the seeds of a type of cherry. When ground to a powder, mahleb produces a flavour that’s much like a combination of bitter almond and cherry. The spice has several associations with Easter, not only in Greece, but also in Cyprus where it’s a used in a special Easter cheese-filled pastry called flaouna.


I’m still trying to navigate the landscape of Nimo’s food stories. Her food crosses several cultural landscapes and her methods are not recipes, but simple truths about cooking ingrained in her brain by tradition and repetition. The worktop must be clean. The ingredients must be good. The cooking must be done with care and respect. And the food must be enjoyed slowly and mindfully.

As to “eight day bread”, “Choereg”, “Tsoureki”, or whatever you wish to call it, I enjoy it best sliced and toasted with butter, during Easter time, or any time of the year.

5.0 from 1 reviews

Baking with Nimo: Assyrian “Eight Day” Bread

  • 6 cups flour
  • 1 cup butter, melted
  • 1 cup milk, warmed
  • ½ cup sugar
  • 3 eggs
  • 1½ teaspoons salt
  • 2¼ teaspoons yeast
  • ½ teaspoon mahleb, ground seeds
  • 1 egg yolk
  • sesame seeds or sliced almond, for topping (optional)

  1. Dissolve yeast in warm milk, then add the sugar and melted butter.
  2. Beat the eggs eggs and add to the milk mixture, along with salt and ground mahleb.
  3. Add flour gradually, one cup at a time until dough comes away from sides of bowl. Knead 10 minutes until soft, shiny and no longer sticky.
  4. Place dough in oiled bowl. Turn the dough ball in the bowl to coat the outside with oil. Cover the bowl and put in a warm place to rise until doubled.
  5. Divide the dough into two or three balls. Divide each ball into three and roll out with your hands to three long ropes.
  6. Pinch all three ends together and braid loosely. Pinch ends and tuck under.
  7. Cover and allow to rise again until doubled.
  8. Preheat the oven to 400 F / 200 C. Brush the braids with beaten egg and sprinkle with sesame seeds or sliced almonds.
  9. Bake for 20 minutes or until nicely golden brown all over.


This post first appeared on Great British Chefs blog.

Multigrain Bread

Multigrain bread

I haven’t been baking very much bread lately, partly because I already have a freezer full of bread, and also because I’ve been carbing it up on all the winter root veg I’ve been getting in my organic box. In truth, I feel better when I’m not eating so much bread. I don’t think it’s a gluten thing, I think it’s a self control thing: when good bread is around, I tend to eat lots of it.

The trouble is, I miss baking. And last week, I really felt like I needed to bake. More than that, I needed to Comfort Bake. I got the idea in my head that I wanted multigrain bread, and of all people, Martha Stewart came to the rescue with her Multigrain Bread recipe which ticked all the right boxes: rye flour, oats, flax seeds, sunflower seeds.

The only substitution I made was to use quinoa rather than bulgur wheat. I could definitely smell and taste the quinoa in the resulting loaf, but I loved it. I also didn’t need as much flour as the recipe called for (I had about a cup leftover), which may be partially due to quinoa not holding as much water as bulgur. This picture makes the crumb look a little, well, crumbly, but I think that’s due to my slicing the bread before it was totally cool.

I loved this bread and will certainly be making it again – with the quinoa. That is, once I get through my freezer stash.

Recipe: Multigrain Bread

Brown Bread and Guinness Ice Cream

Brown Bread & Guinness Ice Cream

Last weekend I had a few friends over for an Orchard Cottage slumber party / food fest. Among them was Kavey of the blog Kavey Eats and her latest stack of cookbooks. One of the themes of our visits has been to trawl through these books and pick out recipes to make. Then we head to the shop and return home for a weekend of cooking and eating. It’s basically my ideal way to spend time.

Kavey and I share many mutual foodie interests, one of which is ice cream. Kavey runs a monthly blog meme called Bloggers Scream for Ice Cream (aka BSFIC), so I always like to use Kavey’s visits as an excuse to try a new ice cream recipe. It also helps that her chosen theme for this month’s BSFIC is BOOZE, which made my mission to make ice cream all the more inviting.

Convenient to my cause, one of Kavey’s cookbooks was The Icecreamists: Vice Creams, Ice Cream Recipes & Other Guilty Pleasures by Matt O’Connor. I wasn’t sure if I liked this book at first, totally based on the cover whose bright pink / black design is really hard on my eyes. Inside the book, I continued to find other aspects of the design off-putting: lots of light-coloured text on dark backgrounds and pseudo punk rock motifs. I get what they’re going for, but it doesn’t make for user-friendly reading, which is pretty crucial for recipe books.

The photographs, however, are another matter – here the dark and brooding style really works. These days, too many pictures of ice cream involve pastel colours and frilly props. Not so in The Icecreamists. I reckon a man took the pictures – indeed, his name is Anders Schonnemann – and he definitely has balls (or should that be scoops?).

Having perused the book, it was obvious which recipe needed to happen: Brown Bread and Irish Stout Ice Cream (pictured in a very manly Guinness glass, though oddly looking more like a milkshake than an ice cream – but nevermind). I’d never heard of “brown bread ice cream” before but it seems to be a “thing” in these parts. It goes back to 18th-century Victorian times and has been a popular flavour in England and Ireland ever since. The premise is this: take ice cream, and mix in crunchy caramelised bits of bread crumbs. Sounds good, right? And this version is a particular tribute to the Irish, made with brown Irish soda bread and Irish stout (Guinness in my case).

The ice cream base is a basic custard, kicked up with cinnamon and nutmeg (a LOT of nutmeg, which I loved). For the brown soda bread, I followed the recipe in Bread: River Cottage Handbook No. 3 which includes dark treacle for a sweet, molassesy kick – basically perfect for this ice cream. The recipe only calls for 50ml of stout, which leaves plenty left over for drinking, but also makes me question whether the stout flavour comes through, particularly with the high flavour spices. Regardless, the final result was a total win. Caramelised bread crumbs in ice cream – or in anything for that matter – might be my new favourite thing.

Brown Bread & Guinness Ice Cream

Brown Bread and Guinness Ice Cream

Adapted from The Icecreamists.
  • 250 ml (1 cup) full-fat milk
  • ½ teaspoon allspice
  • ½ teaspoon nutmeg
  • 125 ml (1/2 cup) double cream
  • 2 egg yolks
  • 88 g (1/2 cup) dark brown (muscovado) sugar
  • 20 g (1/3 cup) brown Irish soda bread (or other brown bread)
  • 50 ml (1/4 cup) Guinness or other stout
  • 30 g (1/2 cup) brown Irish soda bread
  • 30 g (1/4 cup) dark brown (muscovado) sugar

  1. Pour the milk, spices and cream into a large saucepan and heat gently, stirring occasionally, until the mixture begins to steam but not boil.
  2. Meanwhile, whisk the egg yolks in a heatproof bowl until smooth. Add the sugar and whisk until slightly fluffy. Gradually pour the hot milk into the egg mixture while whisking continuously to prevent the eggs scrambling. Return the mixture to the saucepan and place over a low heat, stirring frequently until the custard thinly coats the back of a wooden spoon. Do not allow to boil.
  3. Add the crumbled soda bread and mix with a stick blender, then pour the mixture back into the bowl and set aside for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until cooled to room temperature. For more rapid chilling, half-fill a sink with cold water and ice and place the bowl in it for 20 minutes. Never put the hot mixture straight into the fridge.
  4. Once cooled, boil the stout until it is reduced by about half and add to the custard. Cover the mixture and refrigerate, ideally overnight but at least for 6 hours, until thoroughly chilled (at least 4°C/40°F). Pour the chilled mixture into an ice cream machine and churn according to the manufacturer’s instructions (you can also make this without an ice cream maker).
  5. Meanwhile, prepare the caramelised crumbs. Combine the crumbled soda bread and sugar and spread over a shallow baking tray lined with parchment paper. Place under a medium-hot grill, stirring frequently, until the breadcrumbs are softly caramelised. Allow to cool a little.
  6. Fold most of the toasted bread mixture into the ice cream, then use a spoon or spatula to scrape the ice cream into a freezer-proof container with a lid. Freeze until it reaches the correct scooping texture (at least 2 hours).
  7. Decorate each portion with a few of the remaining caramelised bread crumbs before serving.


Recipe posted for Kavey’s Bloggers Scream For Ice Cream December challenge.

Turkish Style Flatbreads

Turkish Style Flatbread

My bread mojo has been lacking lately. I feel like I’ve had a long string of loaves that are too flat, flatbread that is too dry, lacklustre sourdough starter and cardboard-esque pizza bases. It has me feeling a little ho-hum about bread, while desperately craving something great.

I decided to try two things: first, a new recipe. I opted for the Turkish flatbread from the River Cottage Bread Handbook. The second thing I tried was following the recipe exactly – no cutting corners, no experimenting with different flours. Instead, I paid attention to what I was doing and put my faith in the recipe. It didn’t let me down.

The dough includes yogurt and olive oil to create a soft pillowy flatbread. The dough wasn’t as wet as what I’m used to, but I resisted the urge to add (very much) extra water and let it do it’s thing. It rose as it should, and it was very easy to roll.

Making flatbread

Making flatbread

I love flatbread because you can roll the dough into whatever size you want – big ol’ flatbreads for sharing with friends, or little mini breads to stack and freeze and keep on hand for whenever you need it. I rolled mine into about 4″ diameter, 3mm thick (do you like how I’m mixing my measurement systems?) and then got on with the baking.

The recipe calls for the rolled-out dough to be baked quickly on a hot skillet, and then finished in the grill. You can imagine my delight as I saw the dough puff and rise on the stovetop.

Making flatbread

What you don’t see, however, is the bread rapidly burning underneath! Lesson learned: these flatbread bake VERY quickly, and it’s a little fraught working with the skillet and then the grill. I ended up making most of the flatbreads on the outdoor BBQ because it’s much cleaner, harder to burn and you can make more than one flatbread at once!

Making flatbread

The resulting flatbreads weren’t so “flat” at all, but they were exactly what I was hoping for. I’ve been eating them with gusto with raw kale salads and beetroot and walnut hummus (another River Cottage recipe). Most importantly, however, I feel relieved to have had a baking success. The mojo is returning. Next up, sourdough?

Turkish Style Flatbread

Turkish Style Flatbreads

  • 500g plain white flour, plus extra for dusting
  • 500g strong white bread flour
  • 10g powdered dried yeast
  • 20g fine salt
  • 325ml warm water
  • 325ml natural yoghurt, warmed
  • 2 tbsp good olive oil, plus extra for coating

  1. Mix the flours, yeast, salt, water and yoghurt in a bowl to form a sticky dough. If it seems really dry, and you’re having trouble working all the flour into the dough, add more water, a little bit at a time. Add the oil, mix it in. Knead until smooth and silky (either by hand or with a machine – I use a mixer with a dough hook and knead for about 5 minutes).
  2. Shape the dough into a round, then place in a clean bowl. Leave to rise, covered with a plastic bag, until doubled in size.
  3. Deflate the dough, then if you have time, leave to rise a second, third, even a fourth time (this improves the dough but is by no means essential).
  4. Tear off pieces the size of small lemons (or smaller, or larger, if you like) one at a time, shape into a round, then using plenty of flour, roll out to a 3-4mm thickness and leave to rest for 5 minutes or so.
  5. To bake on the stove / grill: Heat a large heavy based frying pan over the highest heat and set the grill to maximum. When the pan is super-hot, lay the first bread in it. After a minute or possibly less the bread should be puffy and starting to char on the bottom. Slide the pan under the hot grill, a good 15cm from the heat, and watch your creation balloon magnificently. Remove the bread when it starts to char on the top, brush on some olive oil, then server.
  6. To bake on a BBQ: Make sure the BBQ is good and hot. Lay the rolled out dough directly on the BBQ. You’ll see it start to bubble and puff. When it starts to char, flip it over and cook until it starts to char on the other side, too. Remove, brush on some olive oil and serve.