Bread and Simplicity
I did some quarantining with my brother’s family for about two months. He lives in beautiful, bucolic Pennsylvania in a little place called Downingtown. It is not a giant city, but just a very small town butted up against many other small towns about a half hour from Philadelphia. Most notably, the historic town of West Chester is about five minutes from my brother’s house. There you will find cute stores, bars, historic homes and tiny little restaurants. There are beautiful green pastures and many farms, particularly as you head west to Lancaster. Lancaster is also where you will find the people that time forgot: the Amish.
To me, they seem a strange yet practical people, speaking what the internet and others call Pennsylvania Dutch or Pennsylvania German, a sort of colonized version of the original languages including dialect-colored English words.
The Amish seem rather awkward around non-Amish. There is an oddness about watching them adjust to technology at local grocery store check outs. It is strange to see a group being driven in a minivan to and from a farmers market. Some engage you in a far-away stare as they seem to size you up. Others smile kindly and are very friendly.
But there is a thing that the Amish do that is compelling to me on a spiritual and practical level.
They maintain simplicity at all costs.
I’m not going to the talk about the humility aspect, even though it seems to go hand-in-hand with the practice of simplicity. I think there is a PhD somewhere in a discussion of Amish humility. But simplicity? That I can chat about. Especially as it relates to what seems to be an Amish super power: baking. Yeah, there is that whole barn raising thing, which is pretty amazing. But baking sustains life. And when you come right down to it, the Amish may very well be some of the greatest bakers we have in this country.
Did I say simplicity? Well, during this quarantine I am sure many people have come face-to-face with this monstrous concept. Forced to find household chores to be done, new hobbies and exercise regimes, we have all realized that perhaps this is the world hitting a reset button. If we want to participate, we must simplify. I’m going to take my cues from the people who seem to do simplicity best.
I am not innately a baker. Kim has the hands and the instinct for that. She somehow quickly wraps her head around the science and off she goes. I’m lazy. Seriously, you will generally not find me weighing my flour, measuring out vanilla or nurturing my sourdough starter. I’m always looking for the same bang for my buck without all the fussy bother of science; sort of like the present political climate and the pandemic. Yeah, I said it…
So! During this pandemic, I have turned to the Amish for advice. And this is what they gave me.
Amish Buttermilk-Cinnamon Bread. One of the simplest and most delicious quick breads you will ever make. Billowy soft and satisfying in an old-fashioned way.
We have all made a few of these quick breads, be it banana or zucchini. But what I absolutely love about this particular recipe is that you probably have all the ingredients in your pantry right now, so it makes a great impromptu addition to breakfast or brunch or even a dessert after the evening meal.
Here we go-
Amish Buttermilk-Cinnamon Bread
This recipe makes 2 loaves. Preheat your oven to 350º with your baking rack set in the middle.
Tools and ingredients:
Two 9x5 loaf pans well buttered, greased or sprayed
1 cup of butter, softened
2 cups of sugar
2 eggs (room temperature)
2 cups of buttermilk (If you don’t have store-bought buttermilk, consider making your own with 2 cups of regular whole milk and 2 tablespoons of vinegar or lemon juice.)
2 teaspoons of the best vanilla
4 cups of flour
1 1/2 teaspoons of cardamom (because I LOVE it)
2 teaspoons of baking soda
A pinch of sea salt
Cinnamon Mixture
1/3 cup of tightly-packed light brown sugar
1/3 of tightly-packed dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon of cinnamon
Another 1/2 teaspoon of good vanilla for this mixture
For the top
2 giant pinches of Turbinado sugar. White is fine if that’s all you have. I added a few nuts because I had them, but you don’t need to. Feel free to improvise with 1/4 cup of your favorite nuts on top.
To begin, in a medium bowl mix together the four cups of flour, baking soda, salt and cardamom with a whisk or fork. Set aside.
Next, in a large bowl cream together the soft butter and 2 cups of sugar. Add room temperature eggs, one at a time, beating each one in a bit before moving on.
Add 2 teaspoons of vanilla to your buttermilk.
Then, with your mixer on low, alternately add flour and buttermilk mixtures to the creamed butter, sugar and eggs in about 3 or 4 equal portions, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Set aside.
Mix together your cinnamon mixture of white and dark brown sugars, cinnamon, and vanilla. Set aside.
Now you are ready to assemble. Set up your assembly line. Pans, batter, and cinnamon sugar.
Pour 1/2 the batter (about a 1/4 for each pan) into both greased loaf pans. Next, sprinkle 3/4 of the cinnamon sugar over the batter, splitting the sugar between the two pans. Try not to get the sugar mixture on the sides of the pan, but get it close. Next, add the remaining batter equally between the two pans. Then, take a knife and starting at one end of the pan and wiggling your knife, cut all the way down the center length of the pan, touching the bottom as you go.
Moving your knife in a slight wavy line down the length of the pan and through the batter pulls the cinnamon layer along to make that marbled wavy line in the center when you cut into it.
Finally, sprinkle the top of the breads with the remaining cinnamon sugar and the 2 giant pinches of Turbinado sugar with nuts if you like them.
Place in the center rack in your preheated 350º oven, being careful not to let the pans touch. Bake for 45-50 minutes or until a skewer or knife comes back with moist, but not wet, crumbs.
Cool for 20 minutes and remove from pans to cool completely on wire racks.
It is not brain surgery, but there is some science involved here between the buttermilk, the baking soda and the eggs. I loved the old-fashioned aspect of alternately combining dry with wet ingredients. It gives the bread a cake-like texture. It feels luxurious by weight but tastes light in the mouth. Your efforts will be greeted by the heady aromas of two beautifully simple buttermilk-cinnamon loaves.
Out of reverence to simplicity, I’ve included few pictures here. See if you can duplicate the result by just reading the recipe like you did back in the days of Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, Simone Beck and Louisette Bertholle. They maintained a lovely simplicity through hand drawings for every step. We had to read and imagine what we were told. There were no pictures otherwise. We are all trying to find some respite from the hectic, right?
This bread is the perfect treat at tea time, breakfast time, quiet time or anytime. Add butter and/or jam to spice up your boring old quarantine. They freeze well, too!
Feeling daring? Switch out the cinnamon center for some hazelnut spread like Nutella, thinned out with a little batter. Or try almond paste, also lightened with some mixed in cake batter and sliced almonds on top. Or raspberry jam with fresh, thinly sliced peaches added to it. What could happen really, except something mesmerizing and delicious?
Worry about the calories some other day. Today, allow yourself the slight indulgence of a trip to Pennsylvania’s Amish country. With everything happening in the world today, it would be a simple, yet thoughtful escape.
