When my family used to travel, my mother
would always pack a cooler of road snacks. It contained all the usual
suspects you’d expect from a lady who once gave her child a yogurt-filled
Easter basket. Baby carrots. Grapes. Nutri·Grain bars.
And some sort of homemade loaf or muffin, if we were lucky.
On these trips, I got the sense that the
kids in other vans were having way more fun, feeding each other Bubble Tape and
licking their barbeque chip-flavored fingers. But now I am very thankful for my mother—queen of
quick breads—and her health habits. And today I have this rhubarb yogurt
loaf, a recipe from the mom files.
One of my favorites.
I packed some for the car ride up to
Montreal, for Dave’s birthday a few weeks ago. And I am barely
exaggerating when I say it was the only non-animal thing we had while we were
up there. Ever had a meat hangover? Not pretty. By day five I was picking the pepperoni
off my pizza and fighting a case of reflux no amount of Tums could right.
But I had asked for it. We took on Canadian eating as a sport. Our trip was marked by the best food
and drink I've had in a very, very long time.
There were Aperol spritzers in a small,
candlelit scotch den called Big in Japan. Curried ribs at the Liverpool House, a seaside cottage meets old-timey club car establishment and sister
restaurant to Joe Beef. And a comforting bowl of celery root baked eggs
with a side of chewy, butter-laced sourdough at Lawrence for brunch.
And a refreshing plate of seasonal
vegetables (!) showcasing sea beans and the very last bottle of Tokaji Furmint Sec
at Pullman bar à vin. Christmas
dinner of stuffed pig foot with foie gras and roast guinea hen atop cheese curd
potatoes at Au Pied de Cochon. A place known for all things excess.
Plus their sugar pie.
And chèvre from Jac le Chevrier and spicy
pork sausage sliced with a pocket knife, eaten standing up Atwater market.
Hot sesame bagels out of the wood-fired oven at St-Viateur, schmeared with
cream cheese and salmon. A few bites of Dave’s smoked meat sandwich with yellow
mustard at Schwartz’s plus a big, thick pickle on small white plate. (By
this time I was getting pretty full.)
We finished with too many glasses of wine at
Bocata with Malcolm, our personal wine guide thanks to a slow Monday night in
Old Montreal. Plus fried sea
smelts with aioli and a haunting, simple appetizer of toasted bread topped
with tomato and Iberico sliced at the bar. (Let’s not mention the
blueberry pastry from Olive + Gourmando for the ride home.)
It wasn’t until we were en route back to
Boston with a cooler filled with foie gras, a hundred dollars worth of Canadian
cheese, some sausage, and a few cases of Heady Topper from Vermont that I
realized my mother’s habits had gone awry.
Luckily, I still have her rhubarb bread
recipe. Which I've eaten for breakfast on a few occasions since I’ve been
back. It’s nutty and chewy, with a slight tang from the lemon peel and
rhubarb that stud it. Cutting it into thick morning time slices
feels nourishing, without being overly virtuous. A perfect compliment for the
diet of sea creatures and plant-based edibles I’ve put myself on since I’ve
been back.
Lest we not forget, rhubarb is actually a
vegetable.
Rhubarb Yogurt Bread
Adapted from mom
Ingredients:
1¾ cup all-purpose flour, plus 2 tbsp
1 cup whole wheat
flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
½ tsp coriander
seeds, ground
1½ cups muscovado sugar
1 egg
½ cup canola oil
1 cup whole milk yogurt
1 tsp vanilla
zest of 1 lemon
2 cups finely
chopped rhubarb
Instructions:
Grease two loaf
pans (I used a 7 x 3½ and 10 x 3½).
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Sift 1¾ cups
all-purpose flour, whole wheat flour, baking soda, salt, and ground coriander
into a medium bowl. In the bowl of
a stand mixer, beat the sugar, egg, and oil until thoroughly combined (a minute
or so). Add in the yogurt,
vanilla, and zest and mix until fully incorporated. While the mixer is running, slowly add in the flour mixture
and then turn off the mixer (it’s okay if you can still see bits flour).
In a small bowl,
toss the rhubarb pieces with the remaining 2 tbsp flour. With a rubber spatula, mix in the
rhubarb until fully incorporated and the flour is no longer visible, but take
care not to over mix.
Pour into your greased pans and bake for 45-55
minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean when inserted into the center of
the loaves. Let cool on a wire
rack.
Makes “1 large
loaf and 1 small loaf” per my mother
Notes:
-I am fairly
confident this bread can take even more rhubarb, if you have it. The rhubarb melts into the bread and
doesn’t overpower.
-I used dark
muscovado sugar because I had it hanging around, though I do think I’d prefer
light in this recipe. The
difference is minor—just a slightly darker color and hint of molasses. (The
original calls for light brown sugar.)
-Mom is also a
wee bit more health-conscious than her dietitian daughter, apparently. She uses low fat yogurt and more whole
wheat than white flour. The lemon
peel and coriander were my additions.
Because I can never leave well enough alone.
Ohhh, it has been far too long since I was last in Montreal. (It was a three-hour drive away for five years of my life, but I didn't visit once during that time, and now it is much farther away!) Thank you for the glimpse!
ReplyDeleteThe coriander in this loaf sounds intriguing, and I like the look of its crumb. I'll have to see whether there's any rhubarb still at the market this weekend!
I can, in fact, relate to the thing known as a meat hangover. I was recently in Nashville and it was all southern barbeque this, let's add bacon to that...Even the one night when I attempted to smother myself with vegetables, bits of bacon were in my salad (naturally, I ate them, but that's a separate issue). Once we got back to Berkeley, I couldn't even think of pork for a few days without becoming queasy. Things are again rosy between us, though.
ReplyDeleteAs for your mother's rhubarb bread, it sounds so wholesome and good that I doubt one could ever tire of it.
Sounds like an incredible time! and a delicious rhubarb bread! Thank you for feeding my insatiable rhubarb kick! Love your writing, by the way.
ReplyDeleteKatie- oh, you definitely should see if you can get away at some point. It was a culinary travel highpoint on par with France! :)
ReplyDeleteJunsui-glad I'm not the only one to experience it! I'm finally warming up to swine again, but it's taken some coaxing. ;)
Ashley-thank you!! :)
It sounds like your vacations go much like my own and Montreal is the perfect place to explore great food. And yes, I am definitely familiar with the meat hangover.
ReplyDeleteThe rhubarb bread looks great and I'm looking forward to trying it out. Thanks also for putting Heady Trapper on my radar - I'll have to check them out on the way to my next visit to Burlington!
Heady Trapper, Heady Topper...you say tomato, I say tompratter...
DeleteThis looks like a great recipe, one that I am bookmarking right now! I often use yogurt in my 'bakes' not only to replace some of the saturated fat but also because it adds great moisture and flavor to most recipes. Can't wait to pick up some rhubarb this weekend to give this a try! Thanks for posting!
ReplyDelete