Whole Wheat Potato Rolls — The Bread on the Counter, the Kitchen Warm Enough to Live In

Sophie called Thursday. Her voice was different. She is pregnant. The baby will be a girl. She wants to name her Ingrid. I cannot speak. I make a sound that is not quite a word. Sophie says, "Grandma?" I say, "Yes, lilla älskling. Yes. Ingrid." The name is the gift. The name is the keeping. The name will be in the kitchen. Peter is calling more. The crisis has shaken him. He hears the math: Pappa, then Mamma, then me, eventually. He calls daily now. He sounds steady — not great, not happy, but steady. The grief made him show up. The grief unlocked the part of him that had gone silent. I do not say this to him. I just take the calls. I will take any number of calls. I have been waiting for these calls for years. Anna drove up Saturday with the kids. They cleaned my kitchen without asking. They folded my laundry. Anna said: "Mom, we're going to do this every other weekend until it stops feeling necessary." I let her. I did not protest. The protest had been used up on Mamma's death. I do not have any protest left. I let my children take care of me. It is a strange thing. It is also, I think, the right thing for this season. Mamma is in hospice now. The home is good. The staff is kind. I visit daily. I bring food — though she eats less and less, the smell of the food is still received. I bring limpa bread. I bring her own meatballs (the recipe she taught me, returned to her by my hands). She holds my hand. She says the names: Pappa. Lars. Erik. Linda. Karin. Astrid. The names are the prayer. The prayer is what is left when the words go. Julbord prep is in full force. The list is on the fridge. The pickled herring is ordered (three varieties — mustard, dill, onion — from Russ Kendall's, delivered next week). The meatballs are scheduled (Wednesday before Christmas Eve, sixteen pounds of beef and pork, the kind of cooking marathon that requires water breaks). The kitchen is at war with December and December is losing. The kitchen has been winning this war since 1990. The kitchen will win again. I cooked Köttbullar with cream gravy this week. Mamma's recipe. Always. The Damiano Center on Thursday. I have served soup at this center for twenty-some years. I know the regulars by name. I know the seasons of the crowd. I know that the first cold snap brings new faces. I know that the days after holidays bring the lonely ones. I know that the worst weeks of the year are not the ones that feel the worst — they are the ones in February when the cold has worn everyone down and the city has run out of tenderness. Paul would have liked this dinner. Paul would have liked this week. Paul would have liked this life. I tell him about it anyway. The telling is the keeping. I have been told, by a grief counselor, by friends, by my own children at certain anxious moments, that perhaps the constant tell-Paul thing is not healthy. I do not agree. I think it is exactly healthy. I think it is, in fact, the structural beam of my emotional architecture. The beam is solid. The house stands. It is enough. It has to be. And on a morning like this, with the lake doing what the lake does and the dog at my feet and the bread on the counter and the kitchen warm enough to live in, it is. It is enough.

The meatballs are their own ceremony — sixteen pounds, a Wednesday, water breaks required — but the bread is something quieter. It sits on the counter in the morning the way certain things do: without announcement, without needing to be noticed, just present. These whole wheat potato rolls have been part of the Julbord prep as long as anything, and this year, with Mamma’s name on Sophie’s lips and Ingrid already arriving into the world as a name before she arrives as a person, I needed the dough under my hands. The rolling, the rising, the patience of it. The bread does not rush. The kitchen does not rush. Neither, this season, do I.

Whole Wheat Potato Rolls

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 2 hr 30 min (including rise) | Servings: 24 rolls

Ingredients

• 1 cup warm mashed potatoes (about 2 medium potatoes, boiled and mashed plain)
• 1 cup warm potato cooking water (reserved from boiling)
• 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 packet)
• 1/3 cup warm water (about 110°F)
• 1/3 cup honey
• 1/3 cup unsalted butter, softened
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 2 large eggs, room temperature
• 2 cups whole wheat flour
• 2 1/2 to 3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for kneading
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted (for brushing)

Instructions

1. Proof the yeast. In a small bowl, combine the warm water (110°F) and yeast. Stir gently and let sit 5–10 minutes until foamy. If it does not foam, the yeast is spent — start again with a fresh packet.
2. Mix the wet base. In a large mixing bowl, combine the warm mashed potatoes, warm potato cooking water, honey, softened butter, and salt. Stir until the butter begins to melt in. Add the eggs and mix until incorporated. Stir in the proofed yeast mixture.
3. Build the dough. Add the whole wheat flour and stir vigorously until smooth. Begin adding all-purpose flour, 1/2 cup at a time, mixing after each addition, until a soft dough forms and pulls away from the sides of the bowl. The dough will be slightly tacky but not sticky — use just enough flour to make it handleable.
4. Knead. Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 8–10 minutes until smooth, elastic, and slightly tacky. Alternatively, knead with a dough hook on medium speed for 6–7 minutes.
5. First rise. Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl and turn once to coat. Cover with a clean kitchen towel or plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, until doubled in size.
6. Shape the rolls. Punch down the dough and turn onto a lightly floured surface. Divide into 24 equal pieces (a scale helps). Shape each piece into a smooth ball by pulling the surface tight and pinching the seam underneath. Arrange in two greased 9x13-inch baking pans, spacing them evenly so they will touch as they rise.
7. Second rise. Cover the pans and let rise 30–45 minutes, until the rolls have puffed and are just touching each other.
8. Bake. Preheat oven to 375°F. Bake for 18–22 minutes, until the tops are golden brown and the rolls sound hollow when tapped. An instant-read thermometer inserted into the center of a roll should read 190°F.
9. Finish and serve. Remove from the oven and immediately brush with melted butter. Let cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. Serve warm, or cool completely and store in an airtight bag at room temperature for up to 3 days. These freeze beautifully — wrap tightly and store up to 2 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 148 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 25g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 152mg