Stollen

the only thing I want to eat right now

I know that sharing this stollen recipe the day after Christmas seems a little pointless, but I had to share this recipe with you guys because this perfect stollen is all I can think about right now. I know most people would hardly even glance at what is essentially a dense fruitcake bread, but for those of you who get it and love this kind of stuff, this recipe is for you.

Stollen is essentially the German version of the more widely known panettone. But while panettone is known for its airy open crumb, eggy flavor and mile high light structure, stollen is the complete opposite. Flat, dense, cakey, bursting with almost too many mix ins, with a thick rope of marzipan running through the center — the best part.

For my first attempt at stollen I used Melissa Weller’s recipe from her genius book “A Good Bake” (every baker should own this book). I tweaked the recipe a little — I used a mix of pecans and walnuts, as well as raisins and dried cherries, and omitted the rum. Otherwise I made the recipe as she wrote it (rare, I love to stray from a recipe), and it resulted in a very very good stollen. Jordan and I devoured both loaves in a matter of days. However, there were a few things I thought would help it transcend from a good stollen to an amazing stollen. I wanted the crumb to be a little more open, a little less cakey, more bready and chewy like a well kneaded brioche. Adding 1 egg in place of 50 g of the milk solved this wonderfully, and added some height to the finished loaf. When proofing, I chose to push the loaves pretty far for an enriched dough (almost a 2 to 3 ratio of butter to flour — incredible), just to the point that you’d think they would start to deflate. I think the ropes of marzipan do a good job of holding the structure together, like little support beams. Many recipes say to barely proof the stollen, but letting them double in size added a little needed airiness without detracting from the stollen’s signature dense crumb. The resulting loaves were perfect, my ideal stollen — each bite savored, your empty hand rushing to cut another slice before the first is gone.