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Brown Bread — The Small Loaf I Baked When Shabbat Continued Anyway

The first week without Marvin in the house. The silence is enormous — not quiet, not peace, not the comfortable silence of a marriage that has said everything it needs to say. This silence is absence. This silence is the sound of a house that held two people for forty years and now holds one, and the one is rattling around in the space like a single marble in a shoebox, making noise that only emphasizes the emptiness.

I visit every day. Every day, at two in the afternoon, I drive to Cedarhurst with food — brisket, soup, challah, whatever I've made that morning — and I sit with Marvin in his room, in the visitor's chair beside his recliner, and I feed him and talk to him and tell him about the grandchildren and the garden and the weather and the writing, and the telling is my routine now, the replacement for the teaching, the new daily practice of standing in front of an audience of one and saying: this is what happened today, this is what I made, this is who loves you, this is where you are, you are here and I am here and here is where we are. The audience does not always respond. The audience sometimes sleeps through the presentation. But the telling continues, because telling is what I do, and the telling is the love, and the love does not stop because the audience has changed venues.

I made Shabbat dinner for one. One place setting. One glass of wine. One challah (small, a half-recipe, because a full challah for one person is too much challah and too much sadness and the portion must match the table). I lit the candles. I said the blessings. I ate the challah. I sat at the table where Marvin's chair has been removed (David took it; the empty space was unbearable) and where a vase of flowers now sits in its place, because flowers are better than emptiness and emptiness is better than a chair that no one sits in and the flowers are from the garden and the garden is alive. I ate Shabbat dinner for one. It was the hardest meal I have ever eaten. I will eat it again next Friday. And the Friday after. And the Friday after that. Because Shabbat does not pause for grief. Shabbat continues. So do I.

The half-recipe challah worked — barely — but I knew I needed something I could bake every week without the sadness of looking at a too-large loaf and thinking of the person who was supposed to help me eat it. This brown bread is what I settled on for the weeks between: dense, honest, the color of good earth, and forgiving of a baker who is sometimes distracted by the sound of an empty house. It does not ask much of you. It gives back warmth, and right now, warmth is enough.

Brown Bread

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 1 small loaf (6 slices)

Ingredients

  • 1 cup whole wheat flour
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 tablespoon brown sugar
  • 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
  • 3/4 cup buttermilk
  • 2 tablespoons molasses

Instructions

  1. Preheat. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a small loaf pan (8x4 inch) or line it with parchment paper.
  2. Combine dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour, baking soda, salt, and brown sugar until evenly mixed.
  3. Work in the butter. Add the softened butter and use your fingers or a fork to rub it into the flour mixture until the texture resembles coarse crumbs.
  4. Add wet ingredients. Pour in the buttermilk and molasses. Stir gently with a wooden spoon until just combined — do not overmix. The batter will be thick and slightly sticky.
  5. Transfer and score. Spoon the dough into the prepared loaf pan and smooth the top. Use a sharp knife to score a shallow line down the center lengthwise, which helps the loaf rise evenly.
  6. Bake. Bake for 40—45 minutes, until the top is deep brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. The loaf should sound hollow when tapped on the bottom.
  7. Cool before slicing. Let the bread rest in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Allow to cool at least 20 minutes before slicing — it finishes setting as it cools.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 165 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 210mg

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?