comment icon 129 more comments I am totally smitten with this. Consumed. Overwhelmed. Carried Away. Which is good, because I could use a little food distraction so I don’t dwell on the fact that I’m going back to work today after three and a half years of winter break. I love my job, you guys. But I at the moment I love my comfies and my bed just a leetle beet more. This bread makes me think of happier times that did not involve me trying to start my sub zero temperature car in a very sub zero temperature garage. In heels. Cute. It reminds me of the happy/warm time when Bjork and I went to a baking class led by the lovely Bea Ojakangas, expert in Scandinavian baking and author of several award-winning cookbooks. Can I just say? What a doll. One of the things Bea taught us how to make was called Pulla. Or Pulla bread. Pulla loaves? I guess I’m not really sure how to say that, but I am sure that this bread was unique because it’s mildly sweet with crushed cardamom seeds and it’s 190% delicious. She had us make a whole big batch of Pulla dough and then divide it into three sections, to make three kinds of loaves with it. But I only remember one, and that was this cinnamon roll pull apart bread loaf. It actually had a really fancy, official Scandinavian name that I don’t remember. Carb brain freeze. I’m just calling it Homemade Cinnamon Roll Pull Apart Bread, half because it’s easier to remember and half because it has the word “Pulla” in it. And half because it doesn’t have cardamom in it so it’s not technically Pulla, which is why I didn’t want to actually name it Pulla. It’s complicated. In case you forgot: I am not a bread baker. Please see this if you need confirmation. Here’s the thing about yeasted bread – it takes fooooooooooor evvvvvvvverrrrrrr. And then when it doesn’t turn out, I obviously handle it like a normal person and I never cry and pout and pull my hair out because I’ve been waiting all morning for a large slice of warm, soft, fluffy bread soaked in honey butter. What, me? No, never. I definitely didn’t get this right on the first try and there may or may not have been hair pullage. But then by some frosted cinnamon roll miracle, I got it right. Soft, cinnamony, and fresh out of the oven right. At our class, Bea taught me that you really have to rely on your sense of feeling (like literally, your touch) and your good judgement to make bread just right. When we were baking with her, I would touch the dough and it would become a nightmare. Totally unworkable and sticking all over my hands. And then she’d take it from me and give it some gentle TLC and it would turn into silk in about 5 seconds. Some people just have the touch. The takeaways were a) don’t overflour (apparently I am a complete flour hog) and b) be gentle with the dough and let it rest when it becomes crabby; it will respond well. Oh, and c) a KitchenAid mixer reeeeally helps. The bread is just meant for perfectly cozy mornings where school is canceled (but I won’t dwell in the past anymore, promise) and you’re inside with a blanket and a hot mug of coffee and a little ambition. And a hungry tummy. I’ll just say these last two words to you: HONEY BUTTER. Hey hey. Fun math equation on how many hours went into this post, just for my fellow nerds who like to know about these kinds of things. 4.7 from 22 reviews Amount: This recipe makes TWO loaves. I did freeze half of the kneaded and risen dough and then thawed it on the counter overnight and it worked beautifully. 3 hours learning about it and making it at the class + 3 hours for my first (failed) attempt at home + 3 hours for my second (successful) attempt at home + 1 hour to photograph + 1 hour to import, edit, upload, and tag photos + 2 hours to write recipe and text =
13 Hours Spent On This Post.
And I love you goodbye.
