Cinnamon Raisin English Muffin Bread — The Loaf That Belongs Beside a Jar of Honeycrisp Applesauce

Grace would have been two years old this month. September, when the aspens are turning and the light has that particular quality of gold that makes everything look more permanent than it is. She was born in September 2015 and she would have been two and I would have been packing two bags instead of one for preschool drop-off, negotiating with two children instead of one about the backpack and the shoes and the snack, sitting in the parking lot with two empty car seats instead of one. I am aware that I am doing the math again. I have tried to stop doing the math. I think I will always do the math.

I made applesauce this week for the first time. Not from a jar, from Denise's method: Honeycrisp apples from the u-pick farm in Mapleton that we went to Saturday, thirty pounds of them, five kids and Brandon all carrying bags that were too heavy for about fifteen minutes before the kids figured out that picking apples is actually pretty fun and the bags became lighter by eating rather than loading. We brought the apples home and I spent Sunday afternoon running them through the food mill, adding nothing except a little cinnamon, no sugar because the Honeycrisps are sweet enough on their own, and canning twelve quarts and freezing eight more. My mother cans applesauce every October. I started a week early this year.

Lily brought home a drawing from school this week: two figures, one tall and one short, labeled MAMA and LILY in her handwriting, with something red in the tall figure's hands that I stared at for a moment before recognizing it as an apple. She drew me making applesauce. She had not seen me make applesauce yet. She had anticipated it. This is the child who notices everything, and sometimes what she notices is me, and sometimes that is everything.

The grief this week is quiet. It has a place. It sits in its place and I know where it is and I make applesauce and pack Noah's snack and look at the mountain from the kitchen window and the mountain is still there and so am I.

Denise’s applesauce is simple on purpose — Honeycrisps, a little cinnamon, nothing else — and it asks for something equally honest beside it. This is the bread I started making the same weekend, the loaf that fills the kitchen while the jars are still warm on the counter: a no-knead cinnamon raisin English muffin bread with a cinnamon sugar butter that melts into every nook the moment it comes out of the toaster. It has become part of the same ritual now. The apples come home from Mapleton, the food mill comes out, and two loaf pans get dusted with cornmeal.

Cinnamon Raisin English Muffin Bread with Cinnamon Sugar Butter

Prep Time: 15 min | Rise Time: 1 hr | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 1 hr 50 min | Servings: 2 loaves (about 16 slices each)

Ingredients

• 3 cups warm water (about 110°F)
• 2 tablespoons active dry yeast
• 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 6 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 cup raisins
• Cornmeal, for dusting pans

Cinnamon Sugar Butter

• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
• 3 tablespoons granulated sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• Pinch of fine salt

Instructions

1. Activate the yeast. Combine the warm water, yeast, and sugar in a large bowl. Stir briefly and let sit 5–10 minutes, until the surface looks foamy. If it doesn’t foam, your yeast may be old — start again with a fresh packet.
2. Mix the dough. Add the salt, baking soda, and cinnamon to the yeast mixture and stir to combine. Add the flour one cup at a time, stirring after each addition, until a thick, shaggy, sticky dough forms. Do not knead. Fold in the raisins until evenly distributed throughout.
3. First rise. Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap and set in a warm, draft-free spot. Let rise 45–60 minutes, until the dough has roughly doubled in size and looks bubbly and active.
4. Prepare the pans. Grease two standard 9x5-inch loaf pans well with butter or cooking spray. Dust the interior of each pan generously with cornmeal, tapping out the excess. This gives the bread its signature English muffin crust and prevents sticking.
5. Fill the pans. Using wet hands or a lightly oiled spatula, divide the sticky dough evenly between the two prepared pans. Smooth the tops as best you can and dust each surface with an additional pinch of cornmeal.
6. Second rise. Leave the loaves uncovered and let them rise for 20–25 minutes while you preheat the oven to 375°F. The dough should rise just above the rim of the pans.
7. Bake. Bake on the center rack for 33–38 minutes, until the tops are deep golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. An instant-read thermometer should read 190–195°F. If the tops brown too quickly, tent loosely with foil after 25 minutes.
8. Cool. Let the loaves cool in their pans for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Allow to cool at least 20 minutes before slicing — the interior needs time to set. Slice thick and toast before serving.
9. Make the cinnamon sugar butter. While the bread bakes, beat the softened butter with the sugar, cinnamon, and salt using a hand mixer or a fork until smooth, fluffy, and well combined. Transfer to a small ramekin or jar. It keeps refrigerated for up to 2 weeks; let it soften at room temperature before serving.

Nutrition (per slice, without butter)

Calories: 142 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 31g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 198mg