Gluten-Free Irish Soda Bread Recipe- made with millet

For bakers using wheat, Irish soda bread is one of the easiest no-fuss breads to throw together. The gluten in the wheat works its magic to bind the quick-rising dough without yeast. But if gluten is no longer in the equation, creating a tender loaf of Irish soda bread is a tad more complicated. The less elastic dough must be gently coaxed, and nudged by the generosity and chemistry of gluten-free ingredients. You can't simply substitute the flour and stir in the buttermilk and baking soda. It's not gonna be happy. Or pretty, I'm sorry to tell you.

What I know for sure?

I'm not a fan of rice flour. And I'm no fan of bean flours either. It's not that I'm a culinary snob- far from it. Most days I eat like a four year old. I could live on toast and Sunbutter. Mac and Cheese is my go-to favorite. Spaghetti in olive oil is my idea of a romantic meal. Don't get me wrong- I love good, tasty, sexy food as much as the next person, but I'm not a precious cook. I don't think being well fed means a complicated five course meal with ingredients like truffle oil. I yawn at haute food with all its confetti and ribbons and pretense. Barbie doll portions with infusions, essence, and foam whatever? Please. It becomes all about the Chef, and not the food. Just get over yourself.

I blame television. The media. And the critics who fall for this stuff. They go gaga over it. Like they do with Paris fashion. These foodie trends remind me of the wire-hanger runway models in ridiculous cruel shoes, goat-hair wrapped and balloon-lipped, strutting bizarre costumes er, fashion, that is critiqued as "potent, passionate and powerful" (triple-p?). Is any frock worth a year's salary and such mainlined envy?

I always feel like the kid in the fairy tale The Emperor's New Clothes. I want to tug the sleeve of the nearest adult and say, Um. It's just plain stupid.

Why narcissism on display- and the whole cult of celebrity thing- has gobbled up our collective focus of late- not only in the fashion and celebrity world where you'd expect to find it, but in the food world, and the blogging and cookbook world- confounds and fascinates me. I'm looking forward to Drew Pinsky's book on the subject (that's aka Dr. Drew, for those of you into Loveline; and by the way, if you are-like me- a fan of Dr. Drew, guess who's on Twitter? Yup. He's @Drdrew).

It brings to mind a line from a fun little movie called Dinner Rush (produced, in full disclosure, by the producer who has optioned Steve's script, The Truth Hurts), when the hunky, charming stranger- played by John Corbett- asks the bartender in a trendy Tribeca restaurant, When did dinner become a Broadway show?

So when a reader or two complain that my gluten-free recipe smacks of a chemistry lesson (and by the way, what the heck is xanthan gum, anyway, and why do I need it?) I have to stop. And breathe. And refrain from getting snippy because I too once mourned the ease of baking with all-purpose King Arthur flour. I did my share of swearing like a character in a David Mamet play. I chucked various disasters into the backyard for the raccoons to eat.

I feel your pain and frustration, I really do.

But the bottom line is, I've been at this gluten-free baking thing for awhile now. Since December 2001, in fact. And I started- just like most of you- with the old school flour blends of rice flour and cornstarch (I do have a tiny bone to pick with the lovely and inspirational Julia Child who started the whole cornstarch trend by stating any wheat flour cake recipe could simply be subbed with cornstarch; I mean, sure, but the question begged is, Why? And please don't send me e-mails explaining that cornstarch was widely available back then, not to mention, cheap, and there was no Amazon.com or sorghum flour. I know this, okay? I'm just asking a rhetorical question.)

After baking gluten-free for awhile, one develops personal preferences. For instance, my whole I don't like the weird taste or texture of rice flour thing. Or bean flour. (I don't care how much protein and how few carbs a raw bean has, okay?) So I experiment and tweak my recipes. I try new flours and intuitive ideas. I contemplate. I start thinking about how a recipe crumbles a bit, so I add some honey because honey is a humectant and Hola! It keeps the bread tender and moist. This whole process of gluten-free baking is exactly that. A process.

And as an artist, I cultivate a deep affection for process.

So- even though I have a perfectly acceptable gluten-free Irish Soda Bread recipe on the blog, and a nifty new school Gypsy Soda Bread recipe, I felt the need to try again this week and experiment with a new formula. And I came up with a slightly sweet and tender loaf that is rice-free and vegan. No eggs. No milk. And guess what? You know what.

Steve told me, This is my favorite bread now (as he chowed down a wedge grilled in a dab of light olive oil).

Why do I tweak? Why do I add a touch of honey when I already use sugar? Why do I add millet when I have sorghum? This is why.

Because there's always room for improvement. Recipes aren't precious. They're not written in stone like a commandment. A recipe is more like a poem. Set to music. And the music?

Jazz, baby.

Gluten-Free Irish Soda Bread Recipe- made with millet

The combo of sorghum and millet flour gives this soda bread a lovely mildly sweet flavor. The potato starch gives it tenderness, moisture and lift. If you don't like caraway, try grated orange peel.

Whisk dry ingredients::

1 cup millet flour
1/2 cup sweet sorghum flour
1/2 cup potato starch
2 tablespoons raw sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon sea salt
2 teaspoons xanthan gum

Cut in:

5 tablespoons Organic Spectrum Shortening

Wet Ingredients::

3/4 cup plain hemp milk with 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice, or mild rice vinegar added
Ener-G Egg Replacer for 2 eggs whisked with warm water (1 TB Ener-G egg replacer with 4 TB warm water)
2 tablespoons honey, or raw agave nectar

Stir In::

1 to 3 teaspoons caraway seeds, to taste (or use grated orange peel)
1 cup currants or raisins

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Lightly grease an 8-inch round cake pan and dust it with gluten-free flour.

Whisk the dry ingredients together in a large mixing bowl. Cut in the shortening with a whisk, fork or pastry cutter.

Whisk the wet ingredients together in a separate bowl.

Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and slowly pour the wet into the dry ingredients, gently mixing as you go- I use a soft silicone or rubber spatula to do this. If you need a little more hemp milk to moisten the dough, add a tablespoon at a time and stir in.

When the dough is evenly moist- like sticky biscuit batter, add the caraway and raisins. Stir only briefly to mix them in.

Scrape and spoon out the dough into the prepared cake pan; and use wet hands to flatten and smooth the dough into a round loaf.

Using a sharp knife, slice a criss-cross into the dough and wiggle it a bit from side to side to make a wider dent. According to Irish folklore, the criss-cross discourages the mischievous fairies from messing with your humble loaf of bread. In case you were wondering.

Place the pan into the center of a preheated oven. Bake for about 30 minutes, until the loaf is golden and crusty and sounds hollow when thumped. Insert a wooden toothpick into the center to test for doneness.

Cool on a wire rack for five minutes; and turn the loaf out of the pan to cool to room temperature on the rack.

This sweet and tender bread is fabulous warm from the oven, even if it tends to crumble a bit.

Serves 8.

Printer-friendly recipe.

Karina's Notes:

We froze our leftover slices (wrapped in foil and bagged), then reheated the thawed pieces in a warm iron skillet with a drizzle of light olive oil. Don't tell your mother. We were licking our fingers.