A few short weeks ago, I was sitting in a dim and cozy restaurant gabbing with my pastry-school pal, Michelle. She'd just handed me about six luscious pounds of thin couverture-chocolate disks that she'd acquired wholesale through one of her mysterious culinary connections. Two big bags of the disks were parked on the table when the waitress came over to greet us. She glanced curiously at the bulging sacks and said, "What's this?"


I think she may have feared we brought our own bag-lunch because, for an instant, she got that wary-waitress gleam in her eye. You know the gleam I mean? Anyway, Michelle, who is smart as a whip and takes no guff from anyone, quipped, "I'm a drug dealer." Then after a pregnant pause she added, "It's chocolate."

The waitress immediately chuckled, smiling in understanding. Chocolate. Of course. We were speaking the universal language.


One of the nicest benefits of attending culinary school has been the opportunity to meet kindred spirits, Michelle being one of them. It was from her that I got the notion to make panettone this Christmas season. (Michelle, you constantly generate good ideas for baking and pastry shenanigans. I love that about you!) 


I opened one of each. They all looked and smelled so fresh. I tried citron first. I'd never tasted citron before, candied or otherwise, and the first thing I noticed is that it's beautifully translucent. Light shines right through.


As I nibbled each variety of fruit, my preconceived candied-fruit notions were blown out of the water. All of the lovely, sticky, little cubes were so bright. The orange- and lemon-peels were so chewy, and the candied ginger was just right--not too peppery, and not at all bitter.


I'm now officially a candied fruit believer, and panettone is the perfect vehicle for quality candied citrus. Many, many thanks to Paradise Fruit for offering me this wonderful sampling. I love it!


About this recipe . . .

The recipe I chose is pretty elementary compared to the more elaborate, old-school panettone versions out there. This is an I-don't-have-all-the-time-in-the-world-but-I-really-want-to-make-panettone formula. Adapted from a recipe in the latest issue of the King Arthur Flour catalog, this citrus panettone begins with a starter that you toss together the night before.

What did I change? Well, the main recipe calls for 1/4 cup of potato flour, but I didn't have that so I substituted 1/2 instant potato flakes; this is a common substitution used in bread recipes, and not to be feared. I didn't have the special flavoring called for (Fiori di Sicilia), so I made my own tiny mixture of vanilla, lemon, orange, and almond extracts. I didn't have one of those traditional paper panettone pans in the correct size (though I drove around metro Detroit looking for them, to no avail!), so I used two high-sided metal cake pans (6" x 3") and they worked out just fine. And, of course, I rewrote the instructions to reflect exactly what I did.

This panettone is slightly sweet with a gloriously tender crumb of the palest yellow. Yum.


Triple Citrus Panettone
(For a printable version of this recipe click here!)

Yield: Two smaller loaves (mine were 4" tall and 6" wide); or one larger loaf

Ingredients for the starter:
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/16 teaspoon instant yeast
1/2 cup (4 fluid ounces) cool water

Ingredients for the dough:
2 cups (8.5 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup instant mashed-potato flakes (I used Hungry Jack brand, natural flavor; alternately, you can use 1/4 of potato flour.)
1/4 cup granulated sugar

1 and 1/4 teaspoons salt (I used fine sea salt.)
2 teaspoons instant yeast

1/4 cup (2 fluid ounces) lukewarm water
2 large eggs, room temperature
6 tablespoons (3 ounces) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
A couple drops each of orange extract, lemon extract, and almond extract (enough to equal 1/4    teaspoon total)
1 cup mixture of candied orange peel, lemon peel, and citron, all chopped into very small cubes (I used Paradise Fruit brand; it's already cut to the perfect size.)

Make the starter the night before you make the bread dough:
In a medium-size bowl, combine the flour, yeast, and water. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Leave at room temperature, undisturbed, until the next morning. The starter will get slightly bubbly.

Make the bread dough:
Measure all of the dry ingredients for the dough into a large bowl; whisk them together lightly.

Add in the wet ingredients (except for the candied fruit; that goes in last) and stir until well combined combine.





Mix in the candied fruit until well distributed.



Mix by hand for a couple of minutes (I easily did this by hand with a dough-whisk; you can use a mixer with the paddle attachment, on low speed, if you prefer) then dump the dough out onto a floured surface and gently knead it for another minute or two. It should be soft and sticky.

Put the dough into a large bowl that's been sprayed with vegetable spray or lightly oiled with vegetable oil.



Cover the bowl with a sprayed/oiled piece of plastic wrap, and top that with a lightweight dish towel. Let the dough rise in a warmer-than-room-temperature spot for up to 90 minutes, until it's almost doubled (don't expect to see dramatic rise).



Turn the risen dough out onto a very lightly floured work surface. Gently deflate it. If you're making two smaller loaves, divide the dough now with a bench knife or sharp chef's knife. Shape the dough pieces into smooth balls and pinch closed any bottom seams.



Place the dough balls into pans that have been well greased with shortening (I used two 3"x 6" metal cake pans), or into paper panettone pans. Cover the pans with sprayed/oiled plastic wrap and top that with the lightweight dish towel.



Put them in a warm spot and let them rise for up to 2 hours, until almost doubled.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.



Remove the plastic wrap carefully so as not to deflate the dough and place the pans in the middle of the hot oven (I placed my pans atop a baking sheet to help ensure the bottom of the loaves wouldn't burn).

Bake for 15 minutes, then turn the oven down to 350 degrees. Continue baking for 15 to 20 more minutes, or until the loaves are deep golden all over. If you're baking one large loaf, you may need to bake for 35 minutes longer.

Remove the finished loaves from their pans immediately and cool them completely on a rack before slicing.



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I made these muffins yesterday morning while listening to NPR's coverage of Hurricane Sandy's damage. Every time I hear about that kind of storm, or of an earthquake or a massive flood, I thank my lucky stars that we live in Michigan. Here, natural disasters of that magnitude are virtually unheard of. We have the odd tornado now and then, and occasionally a big wild fire in the woodsy Upper Peninsula makes the news. Somehow, though, the Great Lakes have a way of shielding us, and that's comforting to know.

But, that reality doesn't stop us from worrying about family or friends who live elsewhere when these catastrophes occur. My only sister, for example, lives just a couple of miles from Long Island Sound in southern Connecticut. Despite her calm reassurance when we spoke by phone on Monday morning, as she was preparing to shelter-in-place, I was feeling pretty fretful. She's a tough cookie, and has always been the brave one. I don't think I could have been as calm in her shoes.


When I talked to her after the storm had passed and heard that she's just fine, I was relieved and grateful. Most of her small town, except for some houses on the beach, escaped the worst effects of the storm. She said everything there is eerily quiet now, and that people are still being asked to just stay inside. And, amazingly, the power is not out in the part of town where she lives.

Yes, I eventually ceased fretting. But as we know, when the going gets fretful the fretful get baking and it was my fretfulness that prompted the impromptu creation of these satisfying and tasty muffins. Maybe, now, I should call them Grateful Muffins.


About this recipe . . .

This is one heck of a muffin. Featuring dark-brown sugar and sour cream, it also contains a modest portion of shredded carrots, raisins, and roasted sunflower seeds, along with a little vanilla and cinnamon. It's sort of a morning-glory muffin, but without the entire kitchen-sink profusion of ingredients. Hearty without being hefty. This is an original Jane's Sweets recipe, unadapted from any other source.


Oh, before I forget . . . what do you think of those white "tulip" muffin papers? I used them for the first time and I really like them. Made of a relatively heavy grease-proof paper, they form a perfect square when unfolded. I like the way the tulip-shaped cup contains the muffin, as if it's in it's own little bag. These muffins all browned remarkably evenly, even on their bottoms--no burning. I've heard that you can bake in these papers without using a muffin pan, that they are that sturdy. I was hesitant to try that, but maybe next time I'll give it a whirl. I ordered some in brown and red as well, all from a company called Bakers Stock. Decent prices via this source, and the shipped items were securely packaged. I'd order from them again. (I keep wondering, though, if I could make wrappers like these myself at home, but I really think the paper they're made out of is not typical. It doesn't exactly feel to me like plain parchment or even silicone-coated parchment. I will have to do more investigating on that front.)



Brown Sugar & Sour Cream Morning-Glory Muffins, Simplified

Yield: About 16 standard size muffins, or about 10-12 larger muffins

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (I whisked the flour a bit in its container before measuring.)
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon salt (I used fine sea salt.)
1 and 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed (I think dark brown makes a noticeable flavor difference, but use light brown if that's all you have around.)
3/4 cup and 2 tablespoons canola oil
3/4 cup sour cream
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract or vanilla bean paste (I used paste.)
1/2 cup well-shredded carrots (lightly packed into the measuring cup)
1/3 cup dark raisins
1/4 cup roasted sunflower seeds (salted or unsalted, as you prefer)
2 tablespoons of coarse sugar (turbinado or sanding) to sprinkle atop unbaked muffins

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees and line your muffin pan(s) with paper liners or spray liberally with baking spray.

In a large mixing bowl, lightly whisk together the flour, cinnamon, salt, and baking soda. Set aside.

In another large mixing bowl, stir together the dark brown sugar, canola oil, sour cream, eggs, and vanilla until very well combined. Stir in the carrots, raisins, and sunflower seeds.

Make a well in the bowl of dry ingredients. Pour all of the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir until no large streaks of flour remain; a few small streaks are okay.  (Avoid over-mixing in order to avoid producing tough muffins.) Portion the batter evenly into the muffin papers/cups. Sprinkle a pinch of coarse sugar atop each unbaked muffin to add sparkle and crunch. (I used turbinado sugar--coarse, natural brown sugar--but you could use white sanding sugar or regular granulated sugar if you like.)

If you're making larger muffins, bake them for 15 minutes at 400 degrees, then lower the temperature to 350 and keep baking until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out mostly clean, perhaps 10 minutes longer. If you're baking smaller muffins, turn the oven temperature down after no more than ten minutes. If your muffins appear to be browning too quickly on top, lightly cover them with a sheet of foil. Let the baked muffins cool for just a minute in their pan on a rack, then remove them from the pan to cool longer on the rack. (Or eat them warm, with butter!)


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Ahh, yes, cinnamon chips. They were one of those newish ingredients I was loathe to try when they first appeared in the grocery store a couple of years ago, because they just sounded too fake to me. I envisioned little waxy textured, synthetically-flavored dots of hardened goo. It wasn't hard to tamp down what was a very moderate curiosity to begin with. I passed them by in the market week after week. No backward glance. Something--I knew not what--would have to legitimize cinnamon chips before I would trade cold hard cash to procure them.

And then, about a year and a half ago, I discovered King Arthur Flour's mini-cinnamon chips--better in quality than what I'd seen at the grocery store, no doubt. I bought a small bag, tested them out in a recipe, and found they were actually pretty darn good. So good, in fact, that I was miffed to realize I was completely out of them when I began assembling my ingredients to make these pumpkin scones the other day.  Not a single King Arthur cinnamon chip to be found on the premises. My choices? Use something besides cinnamon chips in the scones (mini chocolate chips? chopped candied ginger? chopped pecans or walnuts? raisins?); leave them plain (still good, but boring); or take a stab at making my own quick-and-easy chips at home. I picked the Do-It-Yourself option.


I had a sizable chunk of Callebaut white chocolate on hand, so I cut off a modest wedge, melted it slowly and carefully in the microwave, mixed in a scant teaspoon of ground cinnamon, spread the mixture thinly onto a piece of plastic wrap, sprinkled more cinnamon over that, laid another piece of plastic wrap over that, and slid it into the freezer for less than five minutes. Once rigid as a board, I broke the cinnamon-chips-to-be into a zillion tiny pieces, added them into my scone batter, and voila! Homemade cinnamon chips in homemade pumpkin scones. Sensational.

What, I ask you, is autumn without a nice warm batch of pumpkin scones cooling on the kitchen table? I dare not think.


About this recipe . . . 

Adapted from a King Arthur recipe aptly titled Harvest Pumpkin Scones, I made only a couple of small changes to the formula. I used a little more pumpkin than called for, along with a smidgen of 1/2 and 1/2; my dough, otherwise, would have been extremely dry. I also reduced the amount of allspice by half. I used homemade cinnamon chips, and I reworded the recipe to reflect my actual steps.

Pumpkin Scones with Do-it-Yourself Cinnamon Chips

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Yield: 8 large scones.

No mixer needed for this recipe (yay!).

Ingredients for the homemade cinnamon chips:

3 oz. of good quality white chocolate, or white chocolate chips
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
and
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Ingredients for the scone dough:

2 and 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg (I use fresh grated, and buy the whole nutmeg at a Penzey's spice store.)
1/8 teaspoon allspice
1/2 cup (1 stick) cold butter, cut into 1/2 inch chunks
3/4 cup canned pumpkin
1 tablespoon 1/2 &1/2 (or use milk)
2 eggs, large

A few tablespoons coarse white sugar (aka sanding sugar) to sprinkle on the scones before baking
2 tablespoons of 1/2 &1/2 or milk

To make the cinnamon chips:

Melt the white chocolate slowly and carefully in your microwave, or melt it in a small bowl set over a pan of simmering water on the stove. If you do it on the stove, be sure no water at all gets into the bowl with the white chocolate. Stir the 1 teaspoon of cinnamon into the melted white chocolate thoroughly. Spread out a small sheet of plastic wrap on a flat surface. While the chocolate is still very warm, spread it out thinly on the plastic wrap using a spatula or bowl scraper. Sprinkle the 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon over that. Cover it with another sheet of plastic wrap. Put it in the freezer for five minutes. Take it out when it's stiff as a board. Break it up into mini-chip-size pieces.

To make the scone dough:

Whisk together, in a large mixing bowl, the flour, granulated sugar, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and allspice.

Using a pastry blender, a fork, or even your fingers, work the butter into the dry ingredients until crumbly. It's fine if some small lumps remain. Toss all of the homemade cinnamon chips in and stir to combine.

In another bowl, whisk together the eggs and canned pumpkin. Pour all of this into the bowl of dry ingredients and stir until it comes together into a solid dough.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and pat it into a ball.

Press the dough with your hands into a large circle, at least 10 inches in diameter and 3/4" thick. Using a sharp knife or a pastry wheel, cut the circle, pie-style, into 8 even triangles. Lay the triangles on a parchment covered baking sheet. I bake my scones so they're not sitting right next to each other, and they have a chance get golden brown all over; you may also choose to bake them about 1/2" apart from each other so they'll end up slightly attached and less crispy on the sides. Brush the tops of each one with half and half, and sprinkle generously with coarse/sanding sugar or regular granulated sugar (coarse sugar will be more sparkly, once baked).

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Now put the scones, still on the baking sheet, into the freezer for about 20 minutes. (This step is a recommendation from KAF, and I think it really does seem to add to the scones' oven spring. They puff up nicely.)

Bake the scones for at least 20 minutes. They are done when they're golden brown, and a toothpick inserted in the thickest part comes out completely clean. Serve them warm or cold. Best the first day, but still pretty good the second!


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Over 25 years ago I landed my first real job at a publishing company in downtown Detroit. It was an interesting place, filled with smart, witty, and sometimes eccentric people, most of whom were recently graduated English majors like me. As entry-level research/editorial workers we had much in common--an insatiable love for reading, a constant yen to discuss books and authors, and the fact that we were all pathetically underpaid.


Despite our paltry wages, we did have unique company benefits. For example, employees could get free copies of any book they worked on and, typically, each person had a hand in several books each year, so that was potentially a lot of books. Since our names appeared on the credits page of each such book, that was a nice perk. In those early days, it was a thrill to open up a spanking new volume and show parents or friends your name in print. Another benefit was a policy requiring us to take rigidly scheduled breaks twice a day. Mandatory breaks. Just like recess in elementary school, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. A cute idea, at least in theory. You weren't supposed to work through a break, even if you were smack in the middle of a meeting or an involved task. That was the rule.


The break allowed enough time for a cup of coffee and chit-chat, but not much else. That, however, rarely deterred the famished among us from trekking out of our historic high-rise and heading down West Fort Street in search of nourishment. We'd dash half a block and duck into Britt's Cafe, a cafeteria/bakery that was bizarrely sequestered in the back of a high-end office supply store. (I know I reminisced here about Britt's once before, but please indulge me as I simply must do it again.) A best-kept-secret kind of place, Britt's produced fabulous baked goods, along with fantastic sandwiches, soups, and salads. Their roughly-constructed scones were to die for, and their fresh muffins sported the most colossal tops I'd ever seen. Once pulled from the oven, the muffins were cut apart and hoisted out of the pans. They were hearty, deeply golden, and packed with chunks of ripe fruit, toasted nuts, tangy dried berries. Sprinkled with coarse sugar, each was a glittering spectacle, a muffin-meal in and of itself. Well worth the risk of making it back to work a few minutes late.


I was reminded of Britt's muffins as I made these yesterday morning. My batter was really thick, there was a lot of it, and I wondered for a moment if I'd need two 12-cup pans versus just one. As I greased the cups with a pastry brush, I decided it would be fun to engineer a similar  top-heavy result. I loaded the cups with batter, rounding them above capacity with my ice cream scoop, dusted the tops with nuts and sugar, then slid them into the oven.

These big-tops are in honor of Britt's, a great Detroit food spot that no longer exists but, happily, still persists in memory.


About this recipe . . . 

This is an original, unadapted recipe. It contains a small amount of whole wheat pastry flour, which you can leave out if you wish (use white or regular whole wheat instead), along with small pieces of sliced, peeled nectarines (feel free to use peaches, or apples, instead). Coarsely chopped, salted, unblanched, Marcona almonds (oh, they're so, so good--I buy them from Trader Joe's) and turbinado sugar crystals are sprinkled on top. This recipe produces a hearty muffin that's not what I'd call cakey, nor too sweet.


Hearty Big-Top Nectarine Muffins with Marcona Almonds

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Yield: 12 very generous standard size muffins

1 and 1/3 cups light brown sugar, firmly packed
1/2 cup plain non-fat yogurt (stir in a tablespoon or so of milk if it's thick yogurt)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 cup and 2 tablespoons canola oil
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 XL (or 2 medium size) ripe nectarine, peeled, and cut into very small chunks (you'll need about one generous cup of chunks)
3 and 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour (if you omit this, add in the same amount of another flour)
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon of sea salt or coarse kosher salt
2 pinches of ground cinnamon
A few scrapings of fresh nutmeg, or about 1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

For the top of the muffins:
1/2 cup salted, unblanched, Marcona almonds, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup turbinado sugar (if you don't have this, you can instead use Demerara sugar, sanding/coarse sugar, or regular granulated sugar)

Heat your oven to 350 degrees. Liberally grease a 12-cup standard size non-stick muffin pan, and also grease the top of the pan (I even use baking spray on top of all this, whenever I'm not using paper liners); or use paper liners and grease just the top of the pan.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flours, baking soda, salt, and spices.

In another large bowl, stir together the brown sugar, yogurt, lemon juice, oil, and eggs. Stir until well combined, then add in the nectarine chunks.

Make a well in the center of the bowl of dry ingredients, pour in all of the wet ingredients, and stir just until combined. It's okay if a few small streaks of flour are visible. Using a portion scoop, distribute the batter equally into the muffin cups, heaping them high. Sprinkle the tops first with chopped almonds, and then with turbinado sugar.

Bake for about 20 minutes or more, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out mostly clean, the muffins are golden brown, and a finger pressed gently on the top of a muffin springs back. Check the muffins after about 15 minutes and if they're browning too quickly, lightly cover them with a sheet of foil. Let the muffins cool for about five minutes in the pan on a rack, then cut them apart to remove them from the pan and let them cool further on the rack.


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If there's any particular sort of baked good that can reliably remind me of my mom (speaking of Mother's Day), it would have to be anything featuring bananas. Her name was Stella, and she just loved them. The woman must have baked something banana-themed about once a week. Based on the profusion of banana-laced items that flew out of her oven, she could have been the PR gal for Chiquita. I wish I had a dime for every time I caught her humming the Chiquita banana ditty in her kitchen (click that link and you'll see--it's guaranteed to cheer you up if you're feeling cranky).


One of her specialities was a tall banana chiffon cake, baked in a tube pan. She'd cut two even slices, each piece about half an inch thick, and sandwich homemade vanilla buttercream between them. Served up this way, you could hold one of the 'nana-wiches in your hand and neatly munch on it with no need for a fork. It was the ultimate portable dessert. My dad eyes would light up at the sight of them, piled on a cake plate.


It's no surprise that, whenever I find myself in my own little kitchen, vigorously mashing peeled bananas, I'm reminded of her. So in case she's up there listening (and I like to think she's very often listening), I just wanted to say happy Mother's Day, Stella! I love you, will always miss you, and am so grateful you passed on your love of baking to me. And, of course, your love of bananas.


About this recipe . . .
This is my latest simple muffin experiment. I used a combo of white whole wheat flour (which is so much more palatable for a lot of folks, in baked goods like this, than regular whole wheat; whenever I use it, I don't think my family can even tell it's in there) and all-purpose; brown sugar instead of white sugar; canola oil for the fat, instead of shortening or butter; and, I added a crunchy oat streusel to the top. It's a nice muffin--not too cakey, nor too sweet, and bearing no resemblance to a doughnut--that would be quite at home nestled in a napkin-lined basket on a Mother's Day brunch table.


Banana Brown Sugar Muffins with Oat-Streusel Topping
(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line 12 muffins cups with paper liners or use baking spray. (Note: I've taken to doubling the paper liners whenever I make muffins or cupcakes lately. It really seems to help insulate the bottoms from over-browning, a problem that too often plagues me!) 

Ingredients for the streusel:
1/2 cup of cold unsalted butter, cut into chunks
1/3 cup of quick or old-fashioned oats
1/4 all-purpose flour, unbleached
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar, lightly packed
1 small pinch coarse kosher salt

Ingredients for the muffins:
2 and 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, unbleached
1 and 1/2 cups white whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt

2 eggs, large
3/4 cup canola oil (or use melted, unsalted butter if you prefer--slightly cooled)
1 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup half & half (or milk)

4 small, very ripe, bananas (or 3 medium size, or 2 large), well mashed

Make the streusel first:

In a medium bowl, whisk together all of the dry streusel ingredients. Using a pastry blender, a fork, or your fingers, cut/press in the butter chunks until the streusel looks evenly lumpy. (The lumps should be no bigger than about the size of blueberries, but you don't need to make them terribly small.) Refrigerate the streusel until you're ready to put it on the unbaked muffins.

To make the muffin batter:

In a large bowl, whisk together all of the dry ingredients.

In a medium bowl, thoroughly whisk together the eggs, oil (or melted butter), brown sugar, vanilla extract, and half & half (or milk). Add the mashed bananas and mix in.

Make a well in the large bowl of dry ingredients, and pour in all of the wet ingredients. Using a rubber spatula or large spoon, stir just until combined, scraping the bowl regularly. There should be lots of lumps (over-mixing the batter will cause tough muffins, so don't get carried away).

Divide the batter evenly into the muffins cups using a portion scoop. Heap the batter up on each one. Sprinkle a generous spoonful of cold streusel on top of each muffin, very gently patting it in as needed to help it adhere.

Bake the muffins on the middle rack of your preheated 400 degree oven for about 10-15 minutes; check them with a toothpick inserted into the center. If it comes out clean, and the muffins are lightly golden on top, they're done. Remove them quickly from the pan, and let them cool on a rack, or serve them warm.


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My husband walked into the kitchen, spotted this newly baked item on the kitchen counter, and asked the question I'd been anticipating.

Him: "What kind of bundt cake is that?"
Me: "Um, well, actually it's not a bundt cake. It's called Swedish batter bread, with cinnamon and dried cranberries. It's made with yeast."

Him: "Really? But didn't you bake it in one of those bundt pans?"
Me: "No. It was made in a kugelhopf pan."
Brief silence.
Him, with affectionate sarcasm: "Ohhhh, of course. A kugelhopf pan. I should have known."


He loves to tease me about the odd minutiae of baking. The wacky pans, the loonier methods/techniques, the sometimes off-beat ingredients. And that's okay with me. I figure it helps keep me from taking all of this too seriously. I assumed he'd have something funny to say about this particular recipe, because this is one of those baked goods that's not easily categorized.


It has the texture of a hearty cake or maybe even a muffin, which I found kind of surprising. I'd expected it to be at least a little more bready. The flavor, though, was as I expected--nicely mild, not very sweet, but still cinnamony. Luckily, Andy (the hubby), really loved this batter bread. He munched it with coffee in the morning for a few days, and I tucked a little piece of it into his lunchbox. Yesterday, when it was legitimately stale and he found out I'd thrown the small remainder away, he pretended to cry. That guy.

About this recipe . . . 

Adapted from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book by Beatrice Ojakangas (a wonderful book, by the way), this batter bread was originally intended to feature saffron and golden raisins. I toyed with the idea of using saffron with dried cranberries (I'm not crazy about golden raisins), but then realized I wasn't even in a saffron mood at all. I was in a cinnamon mood.


I also decided to refrain from sprinkling the finished bread with the recommended powdered sugar, and used cinnamon sugar instead. That was a good choice. I modified the method for putting this together slightly, used instant yeast instead of active dry, and added in a little nutmeg along with the cinnamon. I reworded the recipe to reflect all of my changes.



Swedish Batter Bread with Cinnamon and Cranberries
(For a printable version of this recipe,  click here!)

Yield: One 10" loaf made in a kugelhopf, tube, or bundt pan

1 and 1/2 tsp. instant yeast (or, 1 package active dry yeast, which you'll need to proof in the 1/4 cup of warm water below)
1/4 cup lukewarm water
1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1/4 tsp. salt (I used fine sea salt.)
1/2 cup milk, slightly warm (Ojakangas says to scald and cool the milk; whether this old-fashioned scalding step is still necessary these days with modern milk is up for debate. In any case, use milk that's warm. I did not scald it first.)
1 and 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg (Freshly ground is best; do it yourself when possible!)
3 cups all-purpose flour (I used unbleached.)
3/4 cup dried cranberries
3 Tbsp. granulated sugar mixed with 1 tsp. ground cinnamon (to sprinkle on finished bread)

In the large bowl of your mixer, cream together the butter and sugar until fluffy. Add in the room-temperature eggs along with the salt, beating until smooth. On the lowest speed, add in the yeast, water, and milk.

In a separate bowl, whisk the cinnamon and nutmeg together with the flour, then add it gradually into the mixer bowl, still on the low speed. Raise the speed to medium, and beat for five minutes, stopping to scrape the bowl and beaters now and then.



Add in the cranberries on low speed, mixing until combined.


Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, place it in a warm spot, and let the batter rise until it's doubled in size; this will take about 1and 1/2 to 2 hours.


Prepare your pan by liberally brushing it with soft, unsalted butter and lightly flouring it, or use baking spray (if you use baking spray, be careful not to let it pool in the bottom of the pan. Before you transfer your batter from the bowl into the pan, use a pastry brush to even it out and make sure you've gotten all the nooks and crannies, especially if you're using a kugelhopf/bundt pan.)

When the batter has doubled, stir it down; it will deflate considerably. Pour all of the batter into the prepared pan. Cover the top of the pan with plastic wrap and place it in a warm spot until the batter approaches the top of the pan (I let my batter rise to about an inch from the top of the pan); this should take about 1 hour.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees while the batter's rising.



Bake the bread for about 40 to 45 minutes. It should be quite golden brown on the outside. I tested mine with a toothpick, too.



Cool the bread in its pan for 15 minutes then invert it onto a cooling rack.



While still warm but not hot, set the bread still on its rack over a baking sheet and liberally dust the top of it with the cinnamon sugar.



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