My Bread and Butter
HOW TO MAKE A MEAL MEMORABLE
We were just big enough to peek over the counter to follow what Mariana was doing. There, in her perfectly preserved 1950s-style kitchen, my beloved nanny looked down at the fresh Portuguese bun she was holding and struck it sharply with a serrated knife, using the same motion you’d use to crack the shell of a hard-boiled egg. She studied it to see where its fine crust had broken before splitting a seam almost all the way around and pulling it wide open, exposing its airy middle. Mariana dragged the knife over the top of a bar of salted butter, leaving behind a few pale crumbs and long, jagged markings and then spreading a smooth, thick layer over the bottom half of the bun. She folded it closed and handed it to one of us. And as soon as my sister and I tucked in — our teeth passing through the floured crust, down through the soft dough and through that layer of savoury fat — our bodies would grow calm. Relishing each bite, we would inhale the nutty scent of toasted flour from the tops of the buns, chomping and smelling away until it was time for her to make us another.
Portuguese buns, or Papa Secos, are golden football-shaped dinner rolls, slashed across their tops right before baking. In my experience, only a genuine Portuguese bakery can produce that toasted crust enveloping an airy centre with a truly satisfying, almost marshmallow-like chew made even better by tiny salt pockets that slowly reveal themselves on your palette. The Portuguese Bakery and Syrian Kitchen in Lowertown makes these just the way I remember. Add a swipe of salted organic butter for a simple but euphoric bread-and-butter experience.
Like these Portuguese buns, the impact of handmade well-crafted bread can turn a seemingly regular meal into a memorable one. The key is to use the right bread for the intended purpose. For example, while I’ve found that a slightly sweet, rich white loaf is best for toast (naturally occurring sugars will allow it to brown without over-toasting), for sandwiches you want a paddle-shaped bread reminiscent of a ciabatta but a tad lighter with just a hint of fattiness. The Dynamite Dill and Potato by Art-Is-In Bakery is a perfect example. Its shape makes for easy cutting, and its low height ensures that your sandwich isn’t too bulky. The touch of fat also means it won’t dry out as quickly as some other baked goods, so you can also use it for sandwiches throughout the week.
From breakfast to dinner, at any time of the year, French baguettes are a go-to. Ever wonder why baguettes last only about 24 hours? It’s the strong gluten bonds and low fat content. But no need to shy away — just find a good source. I recommend the classic baguette from The French Baker — and make a meal around it. Right now I’m dreaming of dunking that baguette in an aromatic mussel broth.
But as the cooler months approach, the belly wants a substantial, rustic loaf — one that’s tender throughout and features a rich, crunchy crust. The Fig and Hazelnut loaf at Le Moulin de Provence is an excellent starting point for a comforting meal. Small pieces of fig and roasted hazelnuts are speckled throughout, making it nourishing as well as compatible with endless autumn dishes. Loaves like this are perfect for slicing into thick pieces and serving alongside a thick soup or stew. You can also drizzle it with olive oil and a sprinkle of fresh thyme before toasting and serving with … well, anything!
And despite my emotional attachment to loaves made with white flour, I’m becoming fonder of ancient grains, like kamut, in bread. Kamut, in particular, adds a malty flavour, colour, and heartiness to the bread, which is enhanced by the sourdough fermentation technique that Bridgehead uses for their Seedy Kamut loaf. It’s a great substitute for sourdough, offering a spectacular contrast to a rich grilled cheese or cheese fondue.
The right kind of bread can be transformative. Careful, now, because once you head down this road, there’s always a risk that pairing the right bread with meals will create high expectations for the dining table, creating the same fevered anticipation we had waiting for Mariana’s Portuguese buns.