Try the rye bread

It is not just the sweet nuttiness of a rye loaf that appeals but its pinch of acidity. That brightness that exists even, sometimes more so, after toasting. There is often a chewy quality, each mouthful so much more satisfying than a piece of airy ciabatta or even a slice of sourdough. While rye toast has all the comforting qualities of wholemeal, it has a brightness, a little snap, that tastes alive, not dead.

Rye flour produces a loaf that is generally a wee bit heavier than white flour, and bread made purely from rye can occasionally be only a step away from a house brick. I lighten mine with a quantity, often half, of wholemeal or white. You get the best of both worlds. The flat, round 100 per cent rye loaves are good when sliced only a little thicker than a pound coin, toasted and used to carry goat’s curd and slivers of gravlax.

The nature of rye bread, tight textured and chewy, means you need less to satisfy a bread craving. Toasted, it works enticingly with sharp jams, gooseberry, plum and red currant jelly. Cream or curd cheeses, again with a speck of acidity, and sweet, nutty cheeses such as gruyre partner it as perfectly as ripe brie on a crisp crusted, flour-dusted baguette.

A great rye-bread sandwich is one that holds layers of milky caerphilly cheese and peppery, glossy-leaved watercress.

Toasted rye bread is probably the perfect base for small fish and shellfish. Prawns in dill-freckled mayonnaise; pickled rolled herring with paper-thin onion and sliced gherkin; escabche of mackerel. My own favourite is smoked cod’s roe, spread straight from its skin before some spoilsport whips it into taramasalata. The salty pink roe and the tobacco-coloured bread form a pretty fine partnership.

I used to think rye flour was difficult to work and had a few failures along the way. But the more you work with it and get to understand its ways, the more you realise that this is flour that doesn’t produce a billowing fluffy loaf or a feather-light sponge. It is more complex than that. No, the rise won’t be so magnificent, the crumb of your loaf will be tighter and the texture more dense. But you will end up with a bread of depth and intrigue whose flavour will be both complex and bright. It will keep well, too far longer than a white loaf.

I started my rye baking with a mixture of flours, but with each batch I make, I notice the ratio of rye flour to white is going up. If I keep headed in this direction, there will be a pure rye bread on my breakfast table by the new year.

A couple of rye loaves

The addition of a little grated cheese to this loaf is unusual. I included it initially on a whim, but then enjoyed the way it seemed to increase both the depth of flavour and moistness of the loaf. Leave it out if you wish. It’s no big deal. I used a deep loaf tin, lightly floured. These loaves keep very well for several days — and make cracking toast. If spelt flour remains elusive, then use standard wholemeal.

Makes 2 large loaves.

400g rye flour

400g wholemeal spelt flour

100g strong white flour

10g easy-bake dried yeast

1tsp fine sea salt

600ml warm water

3tbs honey

100g shelled walnuts

75g grated parmesan

Put the flours into a warm, generously sized mixing bowl with the dried yeast and salt, and mix well.

Lightly warm the water with the honey, stirring to dissolve, then pour into the flour and yeast. Mix the ingredients to form a sticky dough, then tip on to a floured board or work surface.

Form the dough into a ball, then knead by hand, pulling and stretching the dough, for a good 4-5 minutes.

Lightly oil the bowl then return the dough to it, cover with a tea cloth or cling film, then set aside in a warm place for about an hour, until the dough is half as big again.

Remove the dough from the bowl, place on a lightly floured board and knead again, briefly, for just a minute or two, incorporating the walnuts and parmesan as you go. Divide the dough in half, then place in the prepared loaf tins, cover and set aside for a further 30 minutes until risen. Set the oven at 220C/gas mark 8.

Bake for 30 minutes, until crisp on top. Remove from the oven, leave for 10 minutes in its tin, then lift out and leave to cool before slicing.

To keep, wrap in foil or kitchen film and set aside. It will also freeze well.

— Guardian News and Media Limited