Rising to the occasion

Dad's Brilliant Brown Bread

I’ve just realised that my Dad rarely gets a mention in my blog-musings. Since yesterday was Father’s Day, it seems apposite that the subject of today’s post was inspired by him. His absence in my posts is no reflection on his importance in my life, it’s just that he doesn’t bake and most of my posts are cake related. He also takes a bit of a back seat in our girlie gatherings - though he frequently supplies the bottles of bubbly that keep us going, bless him - usually slipping away to the sofa with his book, Kindle or Pad as soon as the squealing and chatter gets too much for him. Not that he strays too far mind you (he has to be within hearing range of the gossip after all - Dad likes to know what's going on).

So who is my Dad? Well, when I think of him, I think of drugs (odd but true) – he’s a retired pharmacist and always knows what you need to take when you’re sick. Actually, I really should have said ‘medicine’, as I fear I now have you picturing him as either a twitchy drug-addict or a swaggering drug-dealer (sorry Dad). 

Making the brown soda

I also think of Spain, where he spends most of his time since he retired (yes, you’ve guessed it, the Costa del Sol, where all the dodgy drug barons go - Dad this coming out all wrong! To clarify, Dad is neither an addict nor a king pin dealer - hold the print Sunday Mirror).

Mostly when I think of my Dad, though, books come to mind (phew – think I’m safe on that one). Dad is a voracious reader (especially since he retired) and from the time I was very young, would buy me books for birthdays and Christmas. It’s Dad I have to thank for introducing me to J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis – who or where would I be now if I hadn’t had the pleasure of journeying into new worlds with the likes of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins in Middle Earth and the children from the 'Land of Spare Oom', who went through the wardrobe into Narnia? 

White soda with jam

Now to the inspiration: this weekend I fancied a bit of soda bread and ended up making two loaves – one white and one brown and the brown, which I made today, is one that Dad makes. Yes, I did say that Dad doesn’t bake, but ever since he went on a bit of a health kick a few years ago and had to cut down on the white bread, he learned how to make brown soda bread (so he could make it for himself while in Spain - very independent is my Dad). The recipe originally came from No.1 Sister but has now been tweaked and adapted by Dad for the perfect loaf. Tweaking and adapting is a true sign that you have mastered a recipe, which makes Dad the Master Brown Soda Bread Maker (No.1 Sister actually took Dad’s new and improved recipe back to replace hers, as his bread turned out better every time). 

I know Dad won’t mind me saying that it’s very easy to make and that, frankly, if he can do it anyone can (he’s nothing if not modest). Unlike yeast bread, there’s no temperamental yeasty antics, no waiting for the bread to prove and no kneading. Soda bread is also more versatile than you might imagine and certainly more than just brown vs. white. You could add some raisins or other dried fruit to the white, as I did yesterday, should you fancy a fruity loaf. Or you could make a savoury focaccia-style bread using cheese, olive oil and herbs (Rachel Allen has a lovely recipe here). Add chocolate and cinnamon or maybe crispy bacon - whatever takes your fancy. But really, there's nothing nicer than a slice of freshly baked, unadorned and unadulterated soda bread, spread with salted butter and perhaps some strawberry jam (my favourite on the white) or marmalade (ditto for the brown).

White fruity soda bread

The magic of soda bread is in the name - it relies on the chemical reaction between the bicarbonate of soda (a.k.a. bread soda) and an acidic liquid (such as buttermilk) to create lots of lovely bubbles that make the bread rise. It's also used in some cakes as a raising agent, either alone or alongside baking powder (and you'll see yoghurt, lemon juice, buttermilk or sour cream in these cake recipes for the same reason - all are acidic). The trick with soda bread, as with cakes, is to avoid over-mixing (which will make it tough and dense) and to get it in the oven quickly (before the rising action of the bicarb exhausts itself). 

It's quick to make - just mix the dry and wet ingredients (it literally takes minutes) and pop it into the oven for about 40-45 mins, either as a traditional round loaf on a baking sheet, or in a loaf tin (recipes below). Once it comes out of the oven, set it on a tea-towel, brush it with some milk and wrap it up in the tea-towel like an Egyptian bread mummy - this traps the steam, making the crust soft and slightly chewy rather than hard and sharp enough to cut the roof of your mouth (I go for a mummified loaf every time to save on cuts and grazes, but the choice is yours). The only time you have to spend twiddling your thumbs is while you wait for it to be cool enough to cut. As with all breads, it's best eaten on the day it's baked while it's still pillowy soft, but freezes beautifully and makes lovely toast.

So Happy Father's Day to my wonderful Dad. Thank you for sharing your recipe and your delicious bread, and for not minding that everyone who reads this blog now suspects you're a drug-baron gangster, holed up on the Costa!