← Back to Blog

French Bread -- Baking Warmth Into a Winter Kitchen While Waiting for New Life

February 2035. The pregnancy news had moved through the family and the response was universally the same: good. Hannah said: another baby. River said: another person for the land. Caleb said: I'm going to be a great-uncle? I said: sort of. He said: yeah, sort of is right, that's how we work. Lily called from Norman and said she'd booked time off in October. Patricia called from New York and said she'd be there too.

I thought about what this child would find when they arrived into consciousness of the world. A food forest in its thirteenth year, producing without instruction. A kitchen built to hold the food and the people who made it. A family that understood itself as a chain of practice and belonging going back further than anyone could trace exactly. A great-uncle who made food because it was the most honest language he'd ever found. They'd be fed and known and they'd grow into the knowledge the way you grow into things you're given before you know what you're being given. That's the best kind of start.

Made a large pot of bean bread in February, not for any occasion, just because the Stilwell beans had arrived with the new year's order and I wanted the kitchen to smell right while I thought about this. The house warm around me. The food journals on the shelf. The food forest dormant outside the window, already holding what it would give in September.

Bean bread was what the day called for — but French bread is what my hands knew how to make, and sometimes the kitchen asks you to do what comes naturally while your mind works through something bigger. There’s a particular kind of quiet that comes with bread-making: the kneading, the waiting, the warmth that builds in a house when something is rising. That’s what I needed that February afternoon, thinking about a child not yet here, and a family already making room.

French Bread

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 45 minutes (includes rise time) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

  • 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 standard packet)
  • 1 cup warm water (105–110°F)
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil or vegetable oil
  • 2 1/2 to 3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for kneading
  • 1 egg white, lightly beaten (for brushing)
  • 1 tablespoon water (for egg wash)

Instructions

  1. Proof the yeast. In a large bowl, combine the warm water, sugar, and yeast. Stir gently and let sit for 5–10 minutes until foamy and fragrant.
  2. Mix the dough. Add the salt and oil to the yeast mixture. Stir in flour one cup at a time until a shaggy dough forms. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface.
  3. Knead. Knead for 8–10 minutes, adding flour as needed, until the dough is smooth, elastic, and slightly tacky but not sticky.
  4. First rise. Shape the dough into a ball and place it in a lightly oiled bowl. Cover with a clean kitchen towel and let rise in a warm spot for 45–60 minutes, until doubled in size.
  5. Shape the loaf. Punch down the dough and turn it out onto a floured surface. Shape into a long oval or baguette form, roughly 12 inches long. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet.
  6. Second rise. Cover loosely and let rise for another 20–30 minutes. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 375°F.
  7. Score and brush. Using a sharp knife, make 3 diagonal slashes across the top of the loaf. Whisk together the egg white and 1 tablespoon water and brush over the surface for a glossy, crisp crust.
  8. Bake. Bake for 22–26 minutes, until the crust is deep golden and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom. Cool on a wire rack for at least 10 minutes before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 115 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 1g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 195mg

Jesse Whitehawk
About the cook who shared this
Jesse Whitehawk
Week 325 of Jesse’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Jesse is a thirty-nine-year-old welder, a Cherokee Nation citizen, and a married dad of three in Tulsa who cooks over open fire because that's how his grandpa Charlie did it and his grandpa's grandpa did it before him. His food draws from Cherokee tradition, Mexican heritage from his mother's side, and Oklahoma BBQ culture. He forages wild onions every spring and makes grape dumplings in the fall, and he considers both acts of cultural survival.

How Would You Spin It?

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