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Irish Soda Bread -- April in Vermont Earns You Butter Rights

April arrived with the subtlety of a Vermont spring — which is to say, not subtle at all. Fifty degrees on Monday, twenty-eight on Tuesday, rain on Wednesday, sun on Thursday, and a brief, insulting snowfall on Friday that melted by noon but made its point: winter isn't done until winter says it's done, and winter takes its time in Vermont.

The garden is almost ready to turn. The soil is drying, slowly, the mud retreating like an army that knows it's lost but isn't in a hurry about it. I stood at the garden's edge on Saturday and assessed the rows with the eye of a man who's been growing things in this dirt for forty years. The soil is good — dark, rich, fed by compost and cover crops and the particular alchemy of Vermont weather that breaks everything down and builds everything back. The fork went in easily. I turned three rows. The left leg had opinions. I overruled the leg. The garden needs me more than my leg does.

I made Irish soda bread — the quick bread, no yeast, no waiting, just flour and buttermilk and baking soda and the decision to have bread in forty-five minutes rather than four hours. I make this every April, when the days are too busy for yeast bread and the body needs carbohydrates and the kitchen needs to smell like something baking. The crust is thick and crackling. The inside is dense and slightly sweet. You eat it warm with butter and you don't apologize for how much butter because April in Vermont earns you butter rights.

The daffodils are up. Helen's daffodils, the ones she planted twenty years ago, returning with the reliability of family. They line the front walk in yellow rows, bright and absurd and exactly what the brown lawn needs. The forsythia is blooming too — yellow explosions along the stone wall. Spring announces itself in yellow first. Then green. Then everything.

Ben turned four this month. Sarah called with the report: he demanded a cake shaped like a dinosaur, which Tom attempted and which resembled, by Sarah's description, "a green blob with teeth." Ben was delighted. Tom was traumatized. The dinosaur-cake incident will become family lore, joining the ranks of stories we tell at Thanksgiving that begin with "Remember when..." and end with everyone laughing except the person who made the cake.

Three rows turned. Soda bread baked. Daffodils blooming. Dinosaur cake survived. April. Spring is almost here. Almost.

Three rows turned and a left leg overruled — that’s the kind of April morning that demands bread, not four hours from now, but soon. This Irish soda bread is the one I reach for every spring when the garden won’t wait and neither will I. Forty-five minutes, four ingredients at its heart, and a kitchen that smells like something worth coming inside for. You cut it warm, you butter it without apology, and you eat it standing at the counter while the daffodils do their yellow work outside the window.

Irish Soda Bread

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  • 1 and 3/4 cups buttermilk
  • 1 large egg, lightly beaten

Instructions

  1. Preheat the oven. Set your oven to 425°F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
  2. Combine the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, and sugar.
  3. Cut in the butter. Add the cold butter pieces and work them into the flour mixture with your fingertips or a pastry cutter until it resembles coarse crumbs with a few pea-sized pieces remaining.
  4. Add the wet ingredients. Make a well in the center. Pour in the buttermilk and beaten egg. Stir with a fork until the dough just comes together — it will be shaggy and slightly sticky. Do not overmix.
  5. Shape the loaf. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and gently shape it into a round loaf about 7 inches across. Place it on the prepared baking sheet. Use a sharp knife to score a deep X across the top, about 1/2 inch deep.
  6. Bake. Bake for 15 minutes at 425°F, then reduce the oven temperature to 375°F and continue baking for 25 to 30 minutes, until the crust is golden brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom.
  7. Cool and serve. Let the bread cool on a wire rack for at least 10 minutes before slicing. Serve warm with plenty of butter.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 520mg

Walter Bergstrom
About the cook who shared this
Walter Bergstrom
Week 106 of Walter’s 30-year story · Burlington, Vermont
Walt is a seventy-three-year-old retired high school history teacher from Burlington, Vermont — a Vietnam veteran, a widower, and a grandfather of five who cooks New England comfort food in the same kitchen where his wife Margaret made bread every Saturday for forty years. He lost Margaret to a stroke in 2021, and now he bakes her bread himself, not because he's good at it but because the smell fills the house and for an hour she's still there.

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