Amish Potato Bread

Third week of December. Christmas is six days out. The house is in the rhythm. I cleaned the smoker. I split wood — slowly, with my left hand mostly, with care. The shoulder protested but held. Hannah came out and helped me stack. She is the one finishing the heavy work I cannot finish. She has been finishing things for me for four months now and she will be finishing them for another month and after that I will be back to full and I will finish my own things again, but the months of having my work finished by someone else have been a humbling I needed.

Tuesday I drove to Tahlequah to pick up a Christmas wreath Hannah ordered from the cultural center fundraising table. The wreath was made by a woman named Esther Foreman, ninety-one years old, who has been making wreaths every December for sixty-some years for the cultural center sale. The wreath is gorgeous — pine and cedar and grapevine and red berries. I hung it on our front door Wednesday. Esther herself was at the table when I picked it up. She said: I made this one for somebody, and I'm glad it's you. I said: how did you know it was for me. She said: I asked the lady who took the order. She said: Hannah. She said: Hannah Whitehawk's husband. The man who welded the cemetery gate. I said: yes ma'am. She said: my husband's buried there. I said: I'm sorry. She said: don't be. He's buried by a beautiful gate. I held the wreath. I said: I welded it for him. She said: I know. She said: thank you.

Wednesday I baked. Three loaves of sourdough, four batches of bean bread, two pans of cornbread crackers. The Christmas baking. Hannah did the cookies. Miriam came over Wednesday afternoon to help — she made empanadas for the freezer. Beef and sweet potato, with chiles, the way her grandmother had made them. Hannah and I ate two each at lunch. Hannah said: these are not Cherokee. I said: nope. She said: they're great. I said: yes. The kitchen accepts everyone's grandmothers, eventually.

Caleb stopped by Friday. He was nervous. The proposal is two weeks away. I gave him the pep talk Hannah gave me before I asked her — which is to say, no pep talk, just the assurance that the answer would be yes. He said: how do you know. I said: I've seen her face. He said: yeah. He said: yeah, I know. He left. He had errands.

That Wednesday — the sourdough rising, the bean bread cooling on the rack, Miriam rolling empanada dough at the far end of the counter — was the kind of kitchen day I want to remember forever. Every grandmother showed up in that room, whether she was there or not. This Amish Potato Bread is the loaf I’d add to that table without hesitation: it’s soft the way good bread should be, it uses what you have, and it asks nothing of you except a little time and the willingness to stay close to the oven. The kitchen accepts everyone’s grandmothers. This bread proves it.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 2 hr 30 min (including rise) | Servings: 16 slices (1 loaf)

Ingredients

1 cup warm mashed potatoes (from about 1 medium russet, unseasoned)
1 cup warm water (105–110°F)
1/3 cup warm whole milk
2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 standard packet)
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
4 to 4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for kneading
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted (for brushing)

Instructions

Activate the yeast. In a large bowl, combine the warm water, warm milk, and sugar. Sprinkle the yeast over the top and stir gently. Let sit for 5–10 minutes until foamy. If it doesn’t foam, your water may be too hot or the yeast is old — start again.
Add the potatoes and butter. Stir the mashed potatoes and softened butter into the yeast mixture until roughly combined. The butter doesn’t need to be fully incorporated at this stage.
Mix in the flour and salt. Add the salt and 4 cups of flour, one cup at a time, stirring after each addition. When the dough becomes too stiff to stir, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface.
Knead the dough. Knead by hand for 8–10 minutes, adding flour a tablespoon at a time as needed, until the dough is smooth, elastic, and just slightly tacky. It should spring back when you press a finger into it.
First rise. Shape the dough into a ball and place it in a lightly oiled bowl, turning once to coat. Cover with a clean kitchen towel or plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm spot for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, until doubled in size.
Shape the loaf. Punch the dough down gently. Turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and shape it into a tight log roughly the length of your 9x5-inch loaf pan. Place it seam-side down in a greased pan.
Second rise. Cover loosely and let rise for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until the dough crowns about 1 inch above the rim of the pan.
Bake. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Bake for 30–35 minutes, until the top is deep golden brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom. An instant-read thermometer inserted in the center should read 190–195°F.
Finish and cool. Remove from the pan immediately. Brush the top with melted butter while still hot. Let cool on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before slicing — the interior needs time to set.

Nutrition (per serving)

Amish Potato Bread — The Bread We Bake When the Kitchen Belongs to Everyone