I don't even know what it was I wanted to do; I just ended up fascinated by the fact I had just purchased two tin cans of cookies, and, when flipping open Glezer's book, there was that picture of that bread sticking out of tin cans; the Boston Brown Bread! So, sometimes if not all the time, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do:
I didn't have nearly enough dough to make it out of the tin cans, but once removed you could never tell the difference:
The bread was... interesting. It's got light molasses in the formula, and all I had was dark molasses. Even though I downed the amount in the formula in favor of some extra milk in the very stiff and dry dough, the end result is still very....molasses. The dried cranberries work wonders in it!
There were some odd discrepancies in trying to recreate the formula. The dough I ended up with wasn't nearly enough to fill 3/4 of the tin cans, even though they had the exact recommended measurements. Maybe I dozed off for a second, maybe the rye was extremely thirsty today, I'll never know.
So, a bit on the dry side for my taste, but very comfy and x-massy to eat (dutch summer sucks anyway), I'm sure when the northern winds return I'm going to give the Boston Brown Bread another spin!
greetz
Freerk
P.S. You would do me a big favor endorsing my BreadLab iniative. Every "like" will get me closer to realizing a 6 episode documentary/road movie; chasing the best bread Europe has to offer. Thanks in advance!
Frederik, I'd take a slice anytime. I guess that it tastes sweet and bitter, very old-world style and addictive.
That is the typical approach for making Boston brown bread and usually results in a very moist, almost cake-like, texture. Using the full quantity of dark molasses in place of the light molasses wouldn't hurt a thing, at least for my tastes. It will just taste, umm, "darker". Kind of fun to see a bottle of Grandma's Molasses, a U.S. brand, on a Dutch kitchen counter.
Paul
I haven't tried one baked. I have a little tin steamer with a lid...great for steamed pudding too.
Sylvia