Rieska

My office at work used to be a one-bedroom apartment.  (Yes, the place at which I work is rather unique.)  Some of the apartments have been remodeled  to either connect apartments into larger office areas or to at least remove the kitchen, but my kitchen remains.  While the original range is defunct, I have at my disposal a refrigerator, a sink (with hot water), a microwave oven, and a countertop oven my husband picked up for me at Christmas.  The company is gracious enough to allow us to use these kitchen facilities, within reason.

I figure if the smokers can go outside and spend 10 minutes or something puffing away at tobacco several times a day, I can take a few minutes to do a little baking here and there.  So I have at times mixed up bread dough at home, then brought it down to my office to rise, be quickly shaped into loaves, and bake.  This means my office usually smells absolutely wonderful . . . a fact which has not escaped the notice of the guys who have the office next door.  (One day, after hearing them exclaim over and over about the smell in my office, I shaped cinnamon rolls at home, then brought them to my office for their final rise and baking, specifically so I could share.)

The other morning, I had wanted to make a kind of sweet roll, but as my kids had kept me busy in the morning, I found myself thumbing through my Sunset Cookbook of Breads after they had gone on the bus, looking for a quick bread, instead, sweet or not.  I found one:  Rieska, a barley or rye bread from northern Finland and Lapland.

I was struck by the ease with which I could transport this particular recipe to my office, so I quickly assembled the ingredients.

Ingredients:

2 cups barley flour or rye flour  (I had rye.)
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup undiluted evaporated milk or light cream
2 Tablespoons butter, melted

At home, I mixed the dry ingredients and put them in a plastic zipper storage bag for transport.  I then grabbed a couple of 5-ounce evaporated milk cans and a stick of butter, put the whole thing in a plastic bag along with my cookbook, and headed down to my office.

After turning my oven on to 450 degrees Fahrenheit, checking my e-mail and doing the little things which needed to be done right away, I pulled my mixing bowl from my cupboard, grabbed a wooden spoon from the drawer where I keep all my kitchen implements, and emptied the plastic bag into the bowl.

As I do drink hot chocolate in my office, various mugs have found their way to my cupboards, so I measured two Tablespoons of butter into one of them, covered it with a paper towel, and melted the butter in the microwave.  With the remaining butter stick, I buttered the baking pan I keep in my office.

I mixed one of the cans of evaporated milk in with the melted butter and poured it into the bowl, then poured about 3/5 of the other can in, as well.  (I guessed.  I figured if the dough was too stiff, I could always add a little more.)  Mixing with a wooden spoon resulted in a reasonably smooth, but not too sticky and not too stiff dough.

I only had normal white flour in my cupboard, so after turning the dough out onto the baking pan, I floured my hands with that and started pressing it down to about 1/2 inch thick.  The recipe said to make it a 14-inch circle, but this pan would not allow that, so I ended up with a rectangle, more or less.

Time to prick it all over with a fork!

Baking time is supposed to be about 10 minutes or until lightly browned, but I goofed and ended up with closer to 12 or 13 minutes.  Sure smelled good!

When I pulled it out of the oven, my first thought was that it was going to be a brick.  It didn't look like it had risen much, if at all, and with the whole grain flour, I wondered what the texture would be.  (Of course, given that the recipe had directed me to prick the dough all over, it really is no wonder the bread didn't rise a lot.  That's usually the effect desired by pricking the dough.)

I was surprised to find that while the texture was not exactly fluffy, it was soft enough, especially when spread with plenty of butter, as the recipe suggested.  The hearty flavor also partnered well with the honey I coaxed out of my underused honey bear.  I justified eating three pieces by the fact that it was whole grain and therefore good for me . . . (right?) . . .

It actually feels fluffier than it looks.

I will probably make this bread again sometime, as it is very fast and easy to do.  This could even be made first thing in the morning, when I am getting the kids ready for the bus, to eat alongside their hot chocolate as we hold our morning scripture study.

But if not, it is a great addition to my "office cooking" list.