Irish Brown Bread

I cannot remember the first time I had Irish brown bread. I’m guessing it was while living in Dublin and going to school that, one day, I bought a regular old package of sliced bread and the creamiest butter I’ve ever had.

Toast and butter, with tea, or coffee depending on the mood, is one of the great joys of life. It feels especially nice in cold winter weather, but it is mutable. It can bring winter comforts to almost any type of day outside or in.

For the only Thanksgiving I spent away from home when in Dublin, I attended a group potlock dinner. I had brought my family’s old fashioned giblets infused stuffing to the dinner. Before our main meal, we ate a round of silky Irish salmon. I still remember it to this day. It was bright and savory (and I am Not a fan of salmon at All). The salmon was laid out on a thick, freshly made piece of brown bread over a thin layer of Kerry Irish butter (the best). I intend on recreating that soon.

For now, it’s about the brown bread itself. The difference between brown bread and Irish brown bread is the flour. You can try and recreate it (I have with wheat germ and wheat flour), but, while very tasty, it tastes more like a harder rustic bread, or sometimes something akin to a soda bread.

There’s only one way to make true Irish brown bread. Coarse Wholemeal Flour. It is the magic touch needed. Odlums is the most known brand–you can order it online here, or, if you’re lucky enough to live near Queens, there is and has been for many years an Irish goods market with the best prepared foods around called The Butcher Block. I lived nearby, as did my boyfriend, years ago and frequented many an Irish bar near or on Queens Boulevard. Recently, we took a multicultural trip back to Sunnyside for a Turkish-Irish mission: get Turkish sausage and goods and get wholemeal flour for brown bread at the Butcher Block.

I then was tasked with the style of brown bread to make. I do enjoy a good wide sliced bread, but I wanted something halfway between sliced bread and rustic. I had an old Irish cookbook and found this recipe there. It’s pretty straightforward and simple, and the best part is that it is a NO KNEAD BREAD.

Hallelujah.

It keeps well, and works as a traditional bread and butter or jam toast, is a wonderful companion to hearty soups and as a bread served with dinner. It even makes good sandwiches. Hell, I make avocado toast with a fried egg on my Irish brown bread. It moves betweens the old world and the new with dignity and might, like all the best Irish myths.