Rhubarb Yogurt Bread, Slice of Montreal

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.

PDC Rolls, Au Pied de Cochon to Share

In a world where so many lent books are forever lost between the pages of life, mixed in with the gently worn moving boxes, half-dead houseplants, and mismatched socks, it’s amazing when a book comes back to you. 

But this is how I came to be acquainted with Au Pied de Cochon: The Album.  My boyfriend lent it to a fellow cook a few years ago.  And it recently, miraculously, found its way back to him, this time making itself at home on my coffee table.

So I spent some time with the infamously foie gras-driven cookbook, pawing its pages filled with liver and sausage alongside more liver, cheese curds, and heaps of potatoes.

Foie gras poutine … page turn … boudin maison … foie gras and boudin tart … page turn … chicken pie with foie gras sauce and crispy chicken skin … page turn ….

Eventually, I came upon a bun recipe.  “PDC bread,” as titled in the book, with a picture of the bread in gorgeous bun form at the bottom of the page.  A bun with a shiny, lacquered top the color of a chestnut.  A top that very clearly yielded to a tender brioche-like bottom.

I had been looking for a bread like this.  The universe does not present such recipes very often.  So I wasted little time getting to know it.   

Sweet heavens.

It’s the kind of bun that is quite good when eaten on its own, but is also easy to imagine paired with some enthusiastically sauced beef or drippy pig parts.  It’s squishy and ever so slightly buttery.  Precisely the kind of bread you want when you are eating something that might just get all over your face.

Life gets messy sometimes.  It moves in ways that you could never predict.  But it’s nice to know there are people out there that still return books.  And still share cookbooks.  And are willing to part with amazing bread recipes.  Recipes that actually match up to the pictures taken of them.

PDC Rolls

Adapted from Au Pied de Cochon: The Album

Ingredients:

2 cups whole milk

4 tsp dry yeast

5 cups flour (plus more for the kneading), sifted

3 tbsp sugar

2 tsp kosher salt

2 eggs, gently mixed together

7 tbsp butter, creamed

2 egg yolks

Instructions:

Heat the milk to 93 degrees Fahrenheit (it won’t necessarily feel all that warm if you touch it). Mix in the yeast and let stand for 10 minutes to allow the yeast to activate (you should start to see very subtle bubbles every once and a while and the yeast will get somewhat cloudy but there won’t be a flurry of activity).  In the bowl of a stand mixer, mix together the flour, sugar, and salt; add in the yeast mixture when it is ready.

Mix at low speed using a dough hook for 10 minutes.  (Start the mixer slowly so that the flour doesn’t go flying.) Let the dough rest for 5 minutes.   

Gently mix in the two whole eggs and butter (i.e. on a lower speed) until most of the ingredients have been incorporated (you might want to cover the mixer with some plastic wrap, as some of the flour and eggs may want to jump from the bowl once you've added the eggs and butter); increase the speed of the mixer and blend with the dough hook for 10 minutes or until the bread dough looks very elastic and clings to the dough hook. 

Generously flour a work surface and slightly knead the dough until it can form the shape of a ball (I added another ½-1 cup of flour here because my dough was really sticky).  It will remain a loose-ish dough, but it should stop sticking to your fingers and should be smooth (not shaggy).  Once the dough is formed into a ball, place it into a bowl, and cover it with plastic wrap.  Let it rise at room temperature for about 45 minutes (or until it doubles in size). (I always place my bread on my gas oven range because it’s the warmest part of my apartment.)

Once the dough has risen, take it out of the bowl and divide it in half, divide each half in half and then divide each of your four pieces of dough into thirds so that you have a total of 12 pieces. (They should each weigh roughly four ounces if you have a scale.)  Form each piece into a round ball and place on ungreased baking sheets (I placed 6 balls on each sheet).  Cover the rolls with plastic wrap and allow them to rise again for roughly 45 minutes, or until they double in size.

While the rolls are rising, set the oven to 350 degrees and beat the two yolks together in a small bowl.  When the rolls are ready, lightly brush their tops with egg yolk using a pastry brush, brushing down their sides, as well.  Bake the rolls for about 25 minutes or until their tops are golden brown and shiny.

Makes 12 hamburger-sized rolls

Notes:

-These are damn good.  Just make them.