Quick Focaccia Bread

New Year's Eve 2018. The grapes at midnight. Twelve wishes for 2019. January: health. February: the bakery. March: three years of the notebook. April: spring. May: my birthday — forty-two this year, which is the answer to the ultimate question according to Diego, who read it in a book and told me that forty-two is the meaning of life, and I said, "The meaning of life is forty-two?" and he said, "According to Douglas Adams," and I said, "According to Rosa, the meaning of life is chile colorado," and he said, "That's also valid."

2018 in review: the year Alejandro died (February), the year Luis Jr. graduated (May) and shipped to basic (July) and came home to Fort Bliss (October). The year Sofia launched catering. The year Isabella scored in the ninety-seventh percentile. The year Diego built a trebuchet and a concha clock. The year Camila sang in a purple dress and asked for a dog for the fourth time. The year the bakery grossed seventy-six thousand dollars and profited forty-nine thousand. The year the recipe notebook reached one hundred and thirty entries. A year of endings and beginnings, of graves and gates, of empty chairs and folding chairs of love.

I stood in the kitchen at midnight. Again. Where else? The kitchen is the place where years change and bread rises and life happens. The kitchen is the room that never closes. I stood there and I ate my twelve grapes and I thought about Rosa, who ate twelve grapes every New Year's in Anapra, and about Alejandro, who didn't eat grapes because grapes were a luxury and Alejandro didn't do luxuries, and about Javier, who ate everything because he was sixteen and sixteen-year-old boys eat everything, and they are all gone and I am here and the kitchen is here and the grapes are here and 2019 is beginning and I am ready for it, the way I am ready for bread at 4 AM: not because I chose the hour but because the hour chose me.

I made rosca de reyes dough. Again. The annual tradition. The dough proofing overnight, the yeast doing its work in the dark, the flour and the sugar and the eggs and the butter combining into something that will rise and feed people and continue the cycle that Rosa started and that I maintain and that Sofia will inherit and that will go on, and on, and on, past me, past Sofia, past the bakery, past the bridge, past everything except the recipe, which is eternal because recipes are the only human creation that actually lasts, because recipes are not things — they are instructions for love, and love does not expire.

Every year I start the rosca de reyes dough on New Year’s Eve and let the yeast do its work while the rest of the world counts down — because that’s what Rosa taught me, and that’s what I’ll teach Sofia, and that’s the whole point. If you don’t have the hours or the tradition yet, this Quick Focaccia Bread is the place to start: same faith in the yeast, same faith in the dark, same proof that the kitchen rewards patience. It won’t be rosca — but it will be yours, and it will rise, and that is enough for a new year beginning.

Prep Time: 15 minutes + 1 hour rise | Cook Time: 22 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 40 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (one standard packet)
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1 cup warm water (about 110°F)
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon dried rosemary (or 1 tablespoon fresh, roughly chopped)
1/2 teaspoon flaky sea salt, for topping
Optional: 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder mixed into dough

Instructions

Activate the yeast. In a large bowl, combine warm water, sugar, and yeast. Stir gently and let sit 5–8 minutes until foamy. If it doesn’t foam, your water was too hot or the yeast is old — start again.
Build the dough. Add 2 tablespoons of the olive oil and the kosher salt to the yeast mixture. Add flour one cup at a time, stirring with a wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead 4–5 minutes until smooth and slightly tacky but not sticky. If adding garlic powder, knead it in now.
First rise. Lightly coat a clean bowl with olive oil, place the dough inside, and turn once to coat. Cover with a damp towel or plastic wrap and let rise in a warm spot 45 minutes to 1 hour, until doubled in size.
Preheat and prepare the pan. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Drizzle the remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil into a 9x13-inch baking pan and spread it across the bottom.
Shape the focaccia. Turn the risen dough into the oiled pan. Using your fingertips, gently press and stretch it toward the edges until it fills the pan in an even layer about 1/2 inch thick. If the dough springs back, let it rest 5 minutes and try again — the gluten just needs a moment.
Dimple and top. Use your fingers to press deep dimples all over the surface of the dough. Sprinkle with rosemary and flaky sea salt. Let rest uncovered 10 minutes for a brief second rise.
Bake. Bake on the center rack 20–22 minutes, until the top is deep golden and the edges pull away from the pan. The bottom should sound hollow when tapped.
Rest and serve. Let cool in the pan 5 minutes before slicing. Best served warm, the day it’s made — though the leftovers, if there are any, toast beautifully the next morning.

Nutrition (per serving)

Quick Focaccia Bread — The Dough That Proofs in the Dark