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Comfort in a cast-iron pan.
Even though I lived in New York City for more than a decade, had eaten food by some of the city’s best chefs, and edited many cookbooks by some of these chefs, I did not sincerely appreciate food until I was pregnant. In fact, it was food that told my now-husband Thomas and I that we were pregnant. We were at the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam, and had just eaten a fantastic lunch of butternut squash soup and salad, when we walked by one of the city’s many shwarma shops, and I just turned in, ordered a chicken kebab, and inhaled it before Thomas could vocalize his shock. Until that moment, I had been oscillating between vegetarianism and veganism for years. A day later, I told him I wanted — no, needed — a burger. He suggested that we get a burger and a pregnancy test. Sure enough I was, as they say in Dutch, zwanger.
For the nearly 10 months I was pregnant with our daughter, I felt like I was eating every food, every flavor, for the first time. It was amazing. I felt liberated. After years of being ridiculously careful about every piece of food I put in my mouth, I ate what I was craving. This included wheat, some meat and poultry, and cheese. Oh my god, cheese! And bread. I no longer cared what anyone had to say about gluten, bread was … no, is … a miracle.
A day or so after our daughter Emma was born, we left the hospital and went to my parents’ house. It was early August, and we were lucky that they were delighted to house two new, overwhelmed parents. I remember sitting down in a big white chair with Emma sleeping in my arms, and feeling the weight of parenthood descend. This incredible creature was now out in the world, and it was my job to keep her alive. Could I do it? The terror came flying in. This was not haunted house terror, it was visceral, I-am-drowning-will-I-survive terror. At that moment, my mom walked into the room bearing a plate of warm Irish soda bread. I could smell the grated orange peel. I slathered a slice with salty butter and took a bite. The sweetness of the currants with the bite of citrus told me it was all going to be OK. I could do this. All that was ahead of me. Known and unknown.
So I share this recipe with you because it is one of those special memory foods for me. Because this Irish soda bread reminds me of food’s incredible power to soothe, heal, and inspire. Because it is delicious.
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RECIPE: Skillet Irish Soda Bread
- Yield: Makes 1 10-inch loaf 1x
Description
Great for a scared new parent, or anyone who loves yummy bread.
Ingredients
- 4 cups all-purpose flour, plus 1 tsp for currants
- 3 Tbsps sugar (or less)
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 1/2 tsps kosher salt
- 4 Tbsps butter, cut into cubes
- 1 egg
- 1 3/4 cups buttermilk (make sure you shake it!)
- 1 tsp orange or lemon zest
- 1 cup dried currants
Instructions
- Preheat the oven to 375°F. Line a 10-inch cast-iron skillet with parchment paper.
- Combine the flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt. Add the butter to the dry ingredients, and mix until the butter is well incorporated.
- Lightly beat the egg and buttermilk together. Add the zest. Mix the wet ingredients with the dry mixture.
- Mix the currants with a bit of flour, and then add to the dough. Knead the dough into a large, round disk. Place the disk in the center of the skillet, and slash an x across the top (a serrated knife works well here).
- Bake for 45 to 50 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature. Same day is best! Yummiest with scrambled eggs, maybe some lox, and lots of salty butter.
Notes
DIY Buttermilk
To avoid potential waste, make your own buttermilk. It is super easy to make with ingredients you likely have on hand. For 1 cup, simply put 1 tablespoon of vinegar (white, cider, red wine — your choice!) or lemon juice in a measuring cup. Add milk (this includes plant-based ones like almond, soy, or oat milk), so the total liquid is 1 cup. Let it sit for at least a few minutes before using in your recipe. Note: For 1 3/4 cups needed in this recipe, add 2 scant tablespoons acid and top off with milk to 1 3/4 cups.
Why Cast-Iron Skillets Are the Sustainable Tool of Choice
- Unlike many pans, cast iron is not coated in harmful toxic chemicals.
- A well-seasoned cast-iron pan is as nonstick as any coated, nonstick pan … but again, no chemicals!
- Except by copper, the even heat distribution of a cast-iron skillet is unparalleled.
- Cast-iron skillets are a relative bargain. A 10.25-inch Lodge skillet costs just $35, whereas an All-Clad skillet is around $160, and an enameled Le Creuset skillet usually costs $220, although you can get deals on certain colors. (All available on Amazon.)
- They are tremendously versatile. You can cook with cast iron on your stovetop — from sauces to poaching — and use it for grilling or baking in your oven.
- Cast iron works on all cooking surfaces, from campfires to induction stoves.
- Your well-cared-for cast iron may last for generations.
Sure would like to
Know the best way to clean up some old cast iron skillets.