Making Irish Soda Bread

Kim’s Modified Whole Wheat Oatmeal Soda Bread (for 2 loaves)
3 ½ cups flour total:
2 cup cake flour
2 cups all purpose white flour
½ cup whole wheat flour
1 cup rolled oatmeal (ground)
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 cups buttermilk
¼ cup brown sugar
1 cup dark raisins (soaked in water, at least 30 minutes)
1 large egg
½ stick butter cut into cubes
*Also need 2 tablespoons flour for raisins

Preheat oven: 400
Put raisins to soak.. Sift dry ingredients together. Mix dry ingredients with butter until the consistency of damp sand. Slowly mix in buttermilk mixed with egg. Dust the drained raisins with flour and fold into mixture.

Place into two (oiled or buttered) loaf pans. Allow to set 20-30 minutes.
Bake for 1 hour.
Allow loaves to sit in pans for 5-10 minutes when taken from oven. Then decant into a wire rack. While loafs are still warm, massage loaves with butter to keep crust supple

This Christmas I have learned that it is true what is said about
“God closing one door and somewhere opening a window”.
You might wonder what this has to Irish Soda Bread. I will elucidate.
Several years ago (nearly seven, I think) I had a dear friend named Tammy.
I met her through Walt’s work. She had some serious relationship (marriage) problems and seemed to need me (us). After several years of her issues and my own problems, I began to sink into despair and on the advice of my (then) counselor, I severed the association. Maybe it wasn’t the best resolution of the problem, but at the time, it was the only one I had.
This year, I’ve been thinking very much about Tammy, and I asked Walt to find her contact information. I have learned that when someone is much on my mind, I usually end up running into them or hearing about them, or talking to them.
Walt emailed her, and that very day she called and that very night the four of us (with Tammy’s new beau, Michael) had dinner at Olive Garden.
It was as if the seven years disappeared in an instant and we were laughing and telling stories and catching up. It was wonderful. It did miraculous things for my mourning and (lately) lonely soul.
During our dinner we learned that Tammy and Michael had traveled to Ireland.
It reminded Walt and me of the transporting experiences we had, when we were in Ireland. Lovely cliffs punctuated the oceanic horizon, when we visited Waterford & Wexford. Just the thought of it had me remembering the rustic and warm aura in the shoppette in the village just off the cliffs. The hamlet was redolent with whiffs of Blahs and scones and the most comforting bit of baking—Irish Soda Bread.
Walt took a walk each morning to the shoppette, in the biting cold. There, he bought a loaf of Irish soda bread, and other staples (baked fresh for the day) for our little group. He would, then, take one loaf or scone for himself and consume it, reverently, on the cliffs, in the dawning Irish morn’.
This very morning, as I was talking to Tammy, I was pleased to hear that she and Michael had visited the pubs in Ireland and fallen in love, as we had, with Irish Soda bread. It reminded me that I have baked Irish Soda Bread, and, well,.. it is the holidays.
So I began amending a recipe I have, so I could make two loaves; one to keep and one to share (-see future blog on the topic of “Breadequette”). Soon I was soaking raisins, measuring flour, grinding oats and actually using my kitchenaid food processor-(an appliance I’ve owned for nearly three years and only recently have begun using to any great degree). Mixing dough left my t-shirt spotted with flour and dough bits (*NOTE TO SELF-Start every baking process by actually wearing my apron!).
Because I want the loaves to look lovely, which is, in fact, in large contrast to the rustic nature of traditional soda bread, I devised a toping for the loaves. After they rested for a half an hour, while I washed the appliance pieces, bowls and measuring cups (** Second NOTE TO SELF-Learn to use the dishwasher), I brushed both loaves with an egg-wash of a whole egg and cream, sprinkled whole rolled oaks on the top and brushed them again.
As I sit here, smelling them baking in the oven, I’m hoping they come out warm and wonderful and beautiful (and delicious) but I need to wait a bit before I’ll know.
One of the loaves (if they make muster) will go to Tammy, my new-old, dear friend, whom I’m meeting for lunch tomorrow.
The other, for my dear and magnificent husband.
If it brings him the slightest memory of his salient Irish Cliffs and warm bites of Irish tradition, then I will count my task for the day, complete.

Until next time:
Eat something wonderful
And live a life worth loving.

-Kim