Grammy's White Bread

My Grammy turned 93 on Wednesday. 93 years. Most of them spent tending gardens, pickling produce, planning suppers and baking bread. In a house built by a young husband for his young wife many years ago. 

On the breezeway, the mid-afternoon sun warms the row of freshly picked cucumbers, still glistening from their bath with the garden hose. Two steps up into the porch where piles of shoes, a bucket of clothespins and hung up coats all have their place. An assortment of pies, strawberry, pecan and chocolate, placed precariously on the washer and dryer, catch your eye as you pass through. A curtained door leads into a faded kitchen, alive with the bustle of getting supper on and the smell of homemade food.

Grandpa sits in his chair by the window. Beneath him, a worn spot on the yellow linoleum, formed over years of bearing the weight of this man as he comes in from his work, takes off his boots and looks over the day's mail. 

The table, flush against the wall, is covered in a vinyl tablecloth, cheerfully depicting an artist's rendition of garden fruits and vegetables. On the table sits a small bowl of water, a peony blossom floating gently on the surface, a tiny ant or two busily exploring its scented petals. A clock, high on the wall, ticks off the minutes while a calendar, full of farm-life scenes, ticks off the days. 

The fridge is full, pictures of children and grandchildren on the outside and piles of food on the inside. The cabinets are tall, reaching all the way to the ceiling, custom made with doors that never seem to quite close. Yellow plates, centers decorated with stalks of wheat,  are stacked high on each shelf, gold rims almost rubbed clean off, telling of years of faithful service in this house. 

Above the sink, a breeze steals through the open window. Looking out you can see the birch tree that the grandchildren used to climb and beyond it the garden, where the man who sits at the kitchen table has painstakingly labored every year of his married life. And beyond that the field and the forest of white pine and woodland flowers. 

And there's my Grammy. Busy in the act of faithfully serving her family. Love spoken through crescent rolls and ribbon salad and pumpkin pies. She isn't a tall women and the years have aged her once youthful face, but her watery-green eyes are kind and her laugh sincere. 

This woman is one of the biggest reasons why I cook the way I do. I have learned the value of hard work and love tangibly expressed through feasting in her home. The bread that sits on her kitchen table, thickly sliced and served with strawberry jam, now sits on mine. And by God's grace, I hope that someday my grandchildren will understand how much they are loved as they sit at my kitchen table and take a huge bite out of their great-great-Grammy's bread. 

Grammy's White Bread

Makes 2 loaves

1 3/4 cups milk

4 1/2 tsp. yeast (2 packages)

1/2 cup hot water (about 110 degrees)

5 1/2 - 6 cups flour, divided in half

3 T. sugar

1 T. salt

3 T. shortening

butter, to brush on top of baked loaves

Start by scalding the milk. 

Heat over medium-low in a small saucepan until small bubbles form around the edges of the pan.

 Do not boil.

Scalding the milk makes for better bread. It weakens the whey protein which can inhibit gluten production. Gluten is what gives bread the proper structure so it rises properly. 

Let milk sit for a few minutes until the temperature reaches between 110 and 120 degrees. 

If you don't have a thermometer, you can test with your finger. 

You should be able to dip it in the milk, but only for a second or two before it gets too hot to handle. This will be the right temperature.

While milk is scalding, mix yeast with the hot water (around 110 degrees) 

in the bowl of a standing mixer.

Let sit for 5 minutes or so, until dissolved. 

Meanwhile, measure out 3 cups of the flour into a medium-sized bowl.

Add the sugar and salt and stir together. 

Then (once milk is right temperature and yeast is dissolved) add the flour mixture, 

milk and shortening to the standing mixer. 

With mixer fitted with the beater, 

beat for 1 1/2 minutes on medium speed (speed 4 on my mixer). 

Add 2 1/2 to 3 cups more flour to the dough. 

Mix on low speed until just combined. 

You want just enough flour so that the dough clears the sides of the bowl.

I used about 2 2/3 cups. 

Cover and let dough rest for 10 - 15 minutes. This allows the dough to relax. 

Then, turn dough out onto a floured surface and knead for 10 minutes, 

until dough is smooth and cohesive. 

(Alternatively, you can knead the dough in the standing mixer, fitted with a dough hook. 

Knead on medium-low for about 8 - 10 minutes.

 Then, knead by hand once or twice to form the dough into a cohesive ball.)

Place dough in a greased bowl, cover and let sit for 40 minutes 

or until dough retains the imprint of your finger when pressed. 

Press dough down with the flat of your hand.

And then cover and let rise another 40 minutes 

(until dough retains imprint of your finger when pressed).

Turn dough out onto counter. 

Divide into two equal parts. 

Cover and let dough rest for 10 minutes.

Working with one half at a time, press dough out into a large rectangle. 

Starting from the short end, tightly roll dough into a log.

Pinch seams together.

Then, turn up ends and pinch seams together.

Repeat with second half of the dough.

Place loaves, seam side down, into two greased loaf pans. 

Cover once again, and let dough rise for 40 minutes, 

until dough just crests the tops of the pans (by about 1/2 to 1 inch).

Bake for 25 minutes in a 425 degree oven, until a deep golden brown. 

Remove from pans and rub a stick of butter across the top of the hot loaf.

This softens the crust so its not so crunchy. 

Cool completely and serve with raspberry jam. 

This bread makes excellent toast.

Recipe from my Grammy.