By Birthday planning is underway. Owen and Nora are going to be two on February 6th — two years since 4:47 AM, since Owen at 7:22 and Nora at 7:41, since the three weeks in the NICU that reshaped everything — and I have been thinking about the party with less logistical intensity than last year, because last year was a first and this year is a second, and seconds are easier in the way that all repetitions are easier: the structure exists, the expectations are calibrated, the emotional weight is familiar.
Patty is making a cake. I am making a cake. There will be two cakes, which is what happens when your mother and you both cook. Both cakes will be eaten. No one will comment on the surfeit. This is family.
Dziadek Wally came to Sunday dinner and was more talkative than he has been since summer. He told Owen a story in Polish and English mixed, a story about a boy who found a treasure, which Owen listened to with complete attention despite understanding approximately forty percent of it. The attention was what mattered. Wally is ninety-four. Owen is almost two. They sit at a table together and exchange a story and both of them receive something from it. I watched this from across the table and thought: how lucky we are, to have him still. How lucky.
Potato and sausage soup this week: Aldi kielbasa sliced, Aldi Russets diced, onion, garlic, chicken broth, a bag of kale torn small. Thirty-minute dinner on a weeknight. Both babies ate it from the same bowl because they have decided they prefer to eat from one bowl, which is not sustainable as a practice but which is currently very charming. Two faces over one bowl of soup. This is what January tastes like in our house.
That potato and sausage soup needed something to go with it — something with weight and substance, something that could hold up to a bowl that two babies were sharing with complete dedication. German rye bread has been on my baking list since December, and a Sunday afternoon with Dziadek Wally at the table felt like exactly the right time to finally make it. There’s something about a dense, dark loaf that feels connected to his world, to the stories he tells in two languages at once, and I liked the idea of having it on the table alongside everything else.
German Rye Bread
Prep Time: 20 minutes + 2 hours rising | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 3 hours | Servings: 12 slices
Ingredients
- 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 packet)
- 1 1/4 cups warm water (110°F)
- 1 tablespoon caraway seeds
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1 1/2 cups dark rye flour
- 1 1/2 cups bread flour, plus more for kneading
- 1 tablespoon cocoa powder (for color and depth)
- 1 egg white, beaten (for egg wash)
Instructions
- Activate the yeast. Combine warm water and brown sugar in a large bowl. Sprinkle yeast over the top and let sit 5–10 minutes until foamy.
- Mix the dough. Add softened butter, salt, cocoa powder, and caraway seeds to the yeast mixture. Stir in the rye flour until combined, then add bread flour 1/2 cup at a time, mixing until a shaggy dough forms.
- Knead. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 8–10 minutes until smooth and slightly tacky. Rye dough will be denser than white bread dough — this is normal.
- First rise. Place dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a clean towel, and let rise in a warm spot for 1 to 1 1/2 hours until doubled in size.
- Shape. Punch down the dough and shape into an oval loaf. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Cover loosely and let rise a second time, 45 minutes to 1 hour.
- Score and glaze. Preheat oven to 375°F. Brush the loaf with beaten egg white and use a sharp knife to score 3 diagonal slashes across the top.
- Bake. Bake for 35–40 minutes until the crust is deep brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom. Cool on a wire rack at least 20 minutes before slicing.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 138 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 2g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 295mg