So in keeping with the season, today I was jolly. I put on my favorite Christmas CD's and hung garland all across our big front windows, intertwined with some red and gold ribbon. And for good measure, some little white rice lights left from last year that I hadn't used. There's 9 settings on those things--you can dial anything from plain old solid lights to slow fade to fast twinkle and everything in between. I have to admit I spent more than a rational length of time mesmerized with lighting effects.Here's another shot--I couldn't take one straight on, because for the first time in a week, we actually had a sunny day. And the camera just couldn't stand all that brightness right in it's little face.
And then I spent the rest of my jolly time making my annual Christmas bread. When we were first married we lived in the woods overlooking a big lake, a decent grocery store was 50 miles away, and so I baked all our own bread. It was a wonderful time in our lives. Mondays and Thursday were baking days and it became routine and normal. I didn't realize then how much it would spoil Doug for the rest of our marriage. He is a bread elitist.
That first Christmas, I found this great Christmas bread recipe--a nice soft dough braided over a cherry and apricot filling. I make it every year--just once a year--and although I tired of it years ago, it's still Doug's favorite. He looks forward to it every year, is horrified when I gift it to friends, and it wouldn't be Christmas for him without it.
Here it is straight from the oven. Candy cane shaped and with little bits of filling peeking through the braid.
The recipe makes three large candy canes of yumminess--I keep one out for us to eat right away, and freeze the other two for Christmas dinner and friends dropping by, and holiday breakfasts. We eat them plain, but for company, the top is drizzled with a plain powdered sugar glaze and decorated with bits of cherry. Holiday traditions. They start accidentally--just a recipe made on a fluke one day. A new recipe to try. And now something that means Christmas to us--and to our kids and grandkids. As soon as they arrive for Christmas, after the hellos and hugs, they head for the kitchen asking "where is the Candy Cane Coffee Cake?"
And my heart glows. No matter how good the bread tastes, I know that's not why they can't wait for that first bite. It's the meaning baked into those breads. It's tradition and Christmas and home.
It's flour and yeast and sour cream with cherries and apricots. But mostly? Mostly it's love.
