Easy Oatmeal Bread

I really believe that there is nothing more comforting, nothing more soul-nourishing, than a slice of warm homemade bread slathered in butter.

I inherited this way of thinking from my maternal grandmother, who baked her own bread every week. Memories of my childhood, much of which I spent at her house, are punctuated by the scent of yeast dough autolysing in a cloth-covered bowl in her warm kitchen.

I have the recipe for her farmhouse white bread, the bread she made for everyday consumption, but I don’t often make it. Because it consists mainly of plain white flour, and I’m committed to a high fiber intake, I rarely eat white bread. I certainly don’t eat it every day – I cash in my white bread account on French baguettes and sourdough. But I love bread, and I really can’t live happily without it. Put me on a carb-free diet, and I am a miserable, crabby person. Thus, I have developed a deep, deep love of earthy, dense, fiber-rich bread. I’m a fan of Wealthy Street Bakery’s Whole-Grain Health Bread, and of the Little Rooster Bread Company’s Multi-Grain and 100% Whole Wheat breads, made from fermented grain (for more on buying bread, read this). And although I obviously want my bread to be baked locally, in a pinch I can make do with a loaf of Ezekiel bread.

A few months ago, a friend gave me a copy of Good to the Grain by Kim Boyce, which got me thinking about baking my own bread. As with any new cookbook, I read the whole thing from cover to cover, and stuck Post-It Notes on the pages I wanted to come back to. Kim’s recipe for Oatmeal Sandwich Bread, in particular, captured my attention. Not long afterward, Molly Wizenberg wrote about that same bread recipe on her blog, Orangette. Molly wrote about her personal discovery of the wonder of toast. I, of course, think that all cooking begins with toast (read: how this blog got its name).

Seeing the same recipe in two places within the space of a few days sealed the deal. And yet I waited. And waited. Until this past Friday, when it was clear that we had really turned the corner toward winter, and well, baking bread just seemed like the thing to do.

So I did. I made soup, too. Lovely, not-in-any-way-boring vegetable soup. You can get the recipe here.

The house smelled fabulously of warm yeast and thyme (from the soup), and I happily worked away the afternoon in the midst of those good smells. We gobbled up half the soup in a couple of meals, and the other half went into freezer containers for lunches later on, but the bread went from being a soup accompaniment to breakfast (and lunch and afternoon snacks.) It’s all I need in the morning to hold me until mid-afternoon: one thick slice, toasted, with butter and homemade jam.

All this is to say that making bread is not difficult. It just requires time – a few hours – during which you come back to it here and there and give it a little love and attention, and then it bakes up lovely and brown and makes you want to just eat bread for every meal.

Here’s how to make my version of  this elemental Oatmeal Bread, which is sweet and hearty and far better for you than anything that comes in a plastic bag from the supermarket. I hope that if you haven’t ever made your own bread before, you will give it a try. I promise, you will get more out of it than a beautiful loaf of bread. If you are anything at all like me (that is, human), you will get a deep sense of having created something fundamental.

Side note: if you want a bread that is just a bit lighter in color and texture, use white whole wheat flour. Milled from white wheat, it will have the same fiber content but be obviously lighter. If you or someone you cook for has an aversion to darker bread, this should make a difference.

Easy Oatmeal Bread

1 package active dry yeast (make sure it’s not expired)
2 cups warm water (not hot, just warm)
3 tablespoons honey
2-1/2 cups whole wheat flour or white whole wheat flour
2 cups all-purpose or bread flour
1 cup rolled oats (use the real thing, not the quick-cooking kind)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
1 tablespoon kosher or sea salt

Butter the insides of a large mixing bowl and a 9×5 loaf pan. Set aside.

In the bowl of a mixer, stir together the yeast and warm water. Let rest for about 5 minutes, so that the yeast will start to “bloom,” or grow. It should begin to bubble slightly.

Using a wooden spoon, stir in the honey, melted butter, flours, and oats until just combined. Cover the bowl with a thin cotton towel and let rest for about 45 minutes.

Using the bread hook attachment, mix on medium speed for about 6 minutes, adding the salt. The dough should form a ball, and should not stick to the sides of the bowl. If it sticks, add a little flour, just a tablespoon or two, until it comes away from the sides of the bowl.

Scrape the dough onto a lightly floured surface – a large cutting board works well – and knead it a few times.

How to knead: place the dough in a large ball in front of you. Using the heels of your hands, press the dough down and away from you. Turn it toward you, folding it over into a ball again, and repeat. Do this 5 or 6 times.

Gently smooth the dough into a large, round shape, and place it in the buttered bowl. Cover with the towel, and place in a warm spot to rise. I usually turn the oven on to 250  degrees and set the bowl on the back of the stove.

Check on it occasionally to make sure it’s rising. After about an hour, it should have doubled in size. Turn it out again onto your floured work surface, and repeat the kneading process, but just knead 2 or 3 times. Using your hands, shape it gently into a log about the size of your loaf pan. Place it in the pan, and sprinkle the top with some oats (this will look nice after it’s baked).

Cover the pan with the towel, and put it back in its warm spot to rise again. Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 400 degrees. As before, check on it every so often. Depending on how warm it is, the second rise may take anywhere from 30 to 60 minutes. When it has almost doubled in size again, and is puffing up over the top of the pan, it’s ready to bake.

Bake for about 40 minutes. When the bread is a deep brown color and has a hollow sound (rap on it with your knuckles to test), it’s done.

Remove to a cooling rack, cool slightly, and turn out of the pan. Make sure you eat a piece while it’s still warm. Store in a plastic zippered bag.