A Sunday, a stove , a cake and egg on my face;
The same cooking stove was used by my parents to cook, bake and keep the kitchen warm in winter. In summer my mother used an electric stove called Therma. It looked similar to the one I used in my first home in the 1960s,
On Sundays my dad used to cook lunch and he also used to bake a traditional cake, called a Hefekranz (Yeast wreath)
Here is the recipe:
Yeast dough 400 g flour 1/4 teaspoon salt 80 g sugar yeast (about 20 g) crumbled or a sachet dry yeast, 80 g butter, cut into pieces, soft 1.5 dl (150ml) milk, lukewarm, 1 egg
Mix all ingredients plus yeast in a bowl. Add butter, milk and egg, mix, knead to a soft, smooth dough. Cover and let it rise until it doubles in size.
For the filling: 250 g ground hazelnuts, almonds or pecan nuts, ground, 100g sugar 1 egg beaten, 1 apple, finely grated 1 dl (100ml) cream;
Mix all ingredients in a bowl
6 tablespoons apricot jam for brushing the rolled out dough before adding the filing. 1 egg beaten, for glazing the top of the wreath before baking..
Roll out dough on a little flour into a rectangle approximately 40x50cm, brush with jam. Spread filling on top. Roll it up into a wreath. Lay wreath into the prepared pan. Let rest for around 30 min. to rise. Brush with egg before baking.
To bake:
50 min. in the lower half, 180 C ( ca.350 Fahrenheit). Remove from oven , cool slightly, remove from the mold, cool on wire rack.
Powdered sugar glaze
5 tbsp icing sugar
1 tablespoon water or lemon juice
Mix icing sugar and water, brush over baked wreath.
It was on a Sunday. Dad was baking a cake, when my mother ( she was a bit of a tease,) took the brush with the eggyolk and quickly smeared it all over dad's face. As fate was planing it, just at that time I returned from skiing, it was a cold but sunny winters day. I opened the kitchen door and I did not know what was happening but I had a brush with egg yolk smeared all over my face. My dad made big eyes when he saw it was I instead of my mother. She had left the kitchen and he thought it was her who returned and entered the kitchen again. There was some explanation why I was the victim of this egg yolk assault. We all had a good laugh and it was a joke for many years to come.
New Electric stove in my first home in the 1960s.
Text/Photos Ts