Tag: bread

Teaching Old Bread New Tricks

Philosophers have long posited that it’s our capacity for abstract thought, creativity, and language that makes us human, but I’d like to argue that it’s our capacity to make bread. Yes, bread; the very bedrock of society, the foundation of nearly all cultures, found globally in every shape, size, color, and flavor imaginable, is the true demarcation between man and beast. Archaeological evidence from over 30,000 years ago, places flour, believed to have been made into unleavened flatbread, on our timeline.

A Bevvy of Breads

That’s all to say, bread is very important. And, for all its permutations, bread is still evolving, even after emerging from the oven. Leftover, excess, or “stale” bread, to those less resourceful, is simply primed for its next permutation. Before we consider recipes, let’s not forget the basics. There’s no excuse for tossing a day-old loaf when you could transform it into:

  • Breadcrumbs
  • Croutons
  • Crackers
  • Soup thickener

The Upper Crust

Basic culinary know-how and rudimentary techniques honor bread’s enduring utility. For the more industrious, there’s no such thing as too much bread. Embrace your own humanity, and embrace bread. Here are a few of my favorite suggestions for reviving old loaves, and more.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)11 Comments

In a Loaf Far, Farro Away

Whole wheat bread is out; farro bread is in. As we turn the pages to a new calendar year, it’s time for a fresh start, and a new approach to ancient grains.

When “Whole Wheat” Isn’t the Whole Story

Technically speaking, farro also qualifies as “whole wheat”, and more specifically, three types of whole wheat, as we touched upon when discussing emmer, the most popular type of farro. However, generic “whole wheat bread” most likely employs hard red wheat, which makes up approximately 40% of total U.S. wheat production. Nutty, robust, and high in protein, it’s no mystery why it became the poster child for wholesome baking, particularly following the counterculture movement of the 1970s, rejecting the processed white loaves proliferating on grocery store shelves. At the same time, it became the sworn enemy of many children bringing packed lunches to school, discovering those dark, dense, and bitter slabs imprisoning wan fillings, bereft of all fun. Whole wheat had soured many generations on the idea of a more wholesome loaf.

In an attempt to elevate the profile (and gluten structure) of whole wheat bread, many brands started producing “whole grain” bread, which was mostly white bread with a bit of color. The fact that they included any meager amount of whole grains gave them the legal grounds to use the label, much to the detriment of flavor and nutrition. If you ask me, they just started out by using the wrong whole wheat all along.

Farro For All

Farro bread isn’t something you’re likely to find in stores, nor is farro flour. That’s where Grand Teton Ancient Grains comes in. They have all three types of farro in stock; einkorn, emmer, and spelt. Better yet, you can grab a bag of ready-milled all-purpose einkorn flour so you can start preheating the oven that much sooner. Buying in bulk does make a compelling case for having your own grain mill, though, especially for breaking down those whole spelt berries. Consider it the best gift you didn’t get for the holidays and treat yourself to a better New Year.

Unlike modern hard red wheat, which has been bred for high yields, consistent protein levels, and machine-friendly milling, farro varieties hold on to traits that industrial agriculture left behind. Emmer and einkorn, for example, have naturally higher levels of carotenoids, which contribute to their flaxen color and subtle sweetness. Spelt tends to be more water-soluble, which is why dough made with it can feel slack even when the protein percentage looks high on paper. Their husked kernels also protect the grain from environmental stress, which is great for biodiversity but makes them harder to process. Grand Teton Ancient Grains is keeping history alive by putting these grains back on the table. You can truly taste that difference.

The Farro Trifecta in Action

All-purpose einkorn flour is the key to success. Soft as freshly fallen snow, it lightens the crumb both in texture and color, not to mention that stunning golden hue it imparts. Edging in on brioche territory, you’d think there was egg in the mix for all its richness. To that majority component, whole spelt flour adds an earthy undertone, grounding the flavor with notes of toasted walnuts and a subtle minerality. Most noticeable, whole cooked emmer berries are woven throughout the crumb, stealing the spotlight with their irresistibly chewy, hearty texture that adds a satisfying heft to every bite.

Altogether, it’s sturdy enough to slice thinly for sandwiches, and still soft enough to cut into thick slabs for dunking into soups, or simply eating plain. Truth be told, I ate roughly 75% of this particular loaf untoasted and unadorned, aside from the thinnest glaze of vegan butter smeared on top.

Rave-Worthy Results

I’m terminally intolerant of breathless hyperbole, deliberately honing my praise to a more reasonable tenor, but this one is hard to be modest about. Of all the loaves I’ve made, this is honestly one of my top five favorites, at least. Maybe even top three, but I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. It’s just as easy to whip up as any other humble sandwich bread, while having nuanced, complex flavor that you’d think could only come from a 24- or 36-hour ferment.

Better Living Through Baking

Make your New Year’s resolution to bake more bread from scratch. It’s a tangible, achievable goal with myriad benefits for health, sustainability, frugality, and honestly, happiness. Even on my worst days, a slice of warm farro bread has never failed to buoy my spirits.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)8 Comments

Catcher In The Rye

I’ve always envied those with a strong culinary heritage. My own origins are as murky as they are unexciting, with food appearing as a bit player, never the star. When asked, my general response is that I’m a European mutt, maybe Russian at most, or Ukranian, or German, or Austrian, or…

Clues are scant and hard to verify. There are stories, like family lore, that could be as close to fact as fairy tales. Anyone with the truth is long gone. The best evidence I have are photos, especially of my dad’s side, seen through a Kodaslide, illuminating the past in every sense of the word. Seen in 3D, there’s my teenaged grandparents at the pool, my dad and aunt as toddlers dressed in some unfortunate plaid jumpsuits, my other aunt as a child running away from what seems like a dead body lying in the grass; some of these moments in time raise more questions than answers.

My Great Grandmother May, Circa 1955

Naturally, I’m most drawn to images depicting holidays and dinner parties, the grand celebrations and feasts of yore. There, I can’t help but notice the towers of bread, stacked instead of splayed, like two pillars a the center of the table. Though it’s hard to identify much else, I know this for sure: it’s rye bread on display.

It turns out, I’m like rye bread. Any number of countries could claim it as their own, offering compelling facts to make the case. In Scandinavia, you’ll find sweet and crisp rye breads like the Finnish rye and the crispbreads of Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. Eastern Europe, particularly Russia and the Baltics, is known for its dark, dense, and intensely flavored rye breads. Germany has a wide range of rye breads, from the robust and complex to the rich and varied, with Vollkornbrot being especially popular. Other notable rye breads include the tender and piquant rye of Southern Poland, the aromatic and flavorful rye of Bavaria, Switzerland, Austria, and Italy, and the rustic French-style Tourte de Seigle. In essence, rye bread is also a European mutt.

Jewish rye bread, lightly sour, sweet, and flecked with caraway seeds, is the food of my people. Marbled loaves especially have held a certain undeniable allure, rippled with undulating waves of dark, cocoa-tinted dough. I’ve long promised myself I’d make a loaf of my own, and so, for this World Bread Day, I finally have.

Banner World Bread Day, October 16, 2025

Of course, as you probably already guessed, I couldn’t simply pander to tradition to recreate what’s already been done millions of times before. Mine is a triple take on the concept, weaving in an even darker braid dyed with edible charcoal for maximum impact. Looking like a streaky challah, the tender yet dense texture evokes the best parts of a brioche and a pullman loaf combined. There’s a uniquely savory edge thanks to the distinctive seasonings and earthy whole grain flours, making its thick slices the ideal end caps to any deli sandwich.

Happea Vegans Not Yo Mami Pastrami on Rye

Other recipes will advise that caraway seeds are polarizing and thus optional. This is true, and I’d never look down on someone who wasn’t a fan. That said, I will advise that this is my recipe, and for me, they are not. Want a simple rye bread without seasonings or inclusions? Want to skip the different colors, the braiding and waiting, the long prep time to make that distinctive final swirl? That’s perfectly fine. That’s not this recipe.

Like the story behind rye bread itself, layered, winding, and shaped by time, my journey has led to something uniquely mine. I can’t recreate the original exactly, but I can honor its spirit. This rye bread is my version, rooted in tradition, but entirely my own.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)14 Comments

Like A Rolling Scone

In the same way that a British “biscuit” is very different from an American “biscuit,” Scottish potato scones were nothing like what I had envisioned. Scones have a good deal of natural variation to begin with; some are buttery and flaky, while others are fluffy and cake-like. A comparable pastry is what I thought would grace my plate, but what I got was something else entirely. Truth be told, I was so overwhelmed by the breadth and depth of delicious items on a full breakfast platter that I didn’t realize until recounting the meal later, beginning to describe the unusual triangular flatbread when it hit me: That was the scone.

What Are Potato Scones, AKA Tattie Scones?

Potato scones, unlike their loftier baked brethren, are unleavened quick breads cooked on the stove top. Leftover mashed potatoes are the key to their soft, tender texture, and a thrifty way to prevent food waste while stretching a limited budget. In some ways, they’re like giant pan-fried gnocchi that’s cut into wedges, though they have more in common with Bannocks, another specialty of the British Isles. Potatoes are charmingly referred to as “tatties” in Scotland or sometimes “totties,” particularly in Glasgow, to explain their more informal name.

Old World Flavor, Modern Methods

Personally, I’ve rarely been graced with leftover mashed potatoes. When I make them for dinner, they’re the main attraction. They’re barely even a memory when it comes time for breakfast the next day. When it comes to making tattie scones, it’s more efficient to simply use instant mashed potatoes; you get more consistent results in terms of texture, there’s no additional cooking required, and you can leave the masher in the drawer where it’s already firmly wedged.

Scone Your Own

As a basic subsistence food, classic tattie scones are unadorned and unbothered. I’ve laid out the essential formula, but found them much tastier after adding some mixed dried herbs. For additional richness, use melted vegan butter instead of olive oil, and you can even pan fry them in additional butter or oil for a decadent finish. I found that they really didn’t need much added fat when using a nonstick pan, and to go in the opposite direction, you could make them entirely oil-free if desired. They’re just that versatile! Naturally, you could swap in fresh mashed potatoes as well, and to that end, mashed sweet potatoes, pumpkin puree, or any other starchy vegetable you prefer. The amount of flour will vary depending on your choices, so just measure with your heart. You can’t go too far wrong.

Serving Scones With Style

Though often seen as a breakfast food, tattie scones are welcome at the table for any meal.

  • For breakfast: Enjoy them instead of toast with your eggless scramble, spread with butter and jam, or top with peanut butter and sliced bananas.
  • For lunch: Serve alongside soup, cut into croutons for salad, or fill two wedges to made a sandwich.
  • For snack: Scoop up hummus, guacamole, or dip into seasoned olive oil.
  • For dinner: Treat them like little flatbread pizzas and top with marinara sauce, vegan cheese, and any meatless or veggie toppings you like.

Mash Hits

Potatoes can do no wrong. Tattie scones may not look like much, but that modesty is part of the appeal; humble, adaptable, and deeply satisfying in a way that only comfort food can be. What started as a surprise on a breakfast plate has turned into a new staple in my kitchen. Sometimes the best discoveries are the ones you never see coming. Whether you’re rolling out a traditional Scottish breakfast or simply looking for a new way to highlight the beloved spud, these unassuming savories are well worth a spot on your table.

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Hannah (BitterSweet)6 Comments