The Silver Palate: Portuguese Sweet Bread

When my friend came to visit last weekend, she mentioned that she made her own bread each week. I was intrigued by the thought of homemade bread, and I thought it would be a great cooking adventure because I've only tried my hand at banana bread. I was craving French toast all weekend, so I thought I'd make the Portuguese Sweet Bread from the Silver Palate as a base for my French toast. The bread reminds me of Pan de Muertos, a lightly sweetened, egg heavy bread baked on November 2nd which is All Souls day or Dia de los muertos. I'll say now that my bread was a failure. For some reason my bread didn't rise. From research on the Internet, I think either I didn't add enough water because my dough was kind of stiff even though I kneaded it for 12 whole minutes or my water wasn't hot enough and my kitchen is a cold place so the yeast was never at its optimum temperature. Though my bread is sitting in my kitchen about to be turned into bread crumbs or bread pudding (I haven't decided), I'm posting the recipe because of its potential to be a delicious breakfast staple served with butter, jam and cafe con leche.

Portuguese Sweet Bread

1/4 cup warm water (105-115 degrees Fahrenheit)
2 packages dry yeast
2/3 cup plus 3 tablespoons raw sugar
1/2 cup creme fraiche
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
pinch of ground nutmeg
7 eggs, room temperature
1/2 (1 stick) unsalted butter at room temperature
2 teaspoons water

1. Pour 1/4 cup of warm water into a small bowl. Stir in the yeast and 1 tablespoon of sugar and let stand for 25 minutes.
2. Heat the Creme Fraiche (Note: see alternative for creme fraiche at bottom of post) in a small saucepan over low heat until bubbly around the edges. Let it cool slightly, then pour into the yeast mixture.
3. Mix 5 cups of flour, 2/3 cup of sugar, salt, and nutmeg in a large bowl.
4. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture, pour in the yeast mixture and 6 beaten eggs into the well until blended. Melt the butter in the microwave for less than a minute to liquefy it, then mix it into the flour mixture.
5. Stir in enough of the remaining 1 1/2 cups flour to make a soft dough. Knead the dough on a floured surface until smooth and elastic, 15-20 minutes. (Note: I mixed in only 1/2 cup of flour, and mixed in the rest while I kneaded the dough)
6. Place dough in a large buttered bowl and turn to coat with butter. Cover with a damp towel and let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1 to 1.5 hours.
7. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
8. Once the dough has risen, punch the dough down and divide it in half. Shape each half into a round ball and place in a buttered 2 quart souffle dish. ( I only own one 2 quart souffle dish, so I put my other dough ball in a pie dish) Cover and let rise until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
9. Beat the remaining egg and 2 teaspoons of water in a small bowl. Brush the two dough balls with the egg wash and sprinkle with sugar.
10. Bake until the top of the loaves are dark and shiny, 40 minutes. If the bread seems to be getting too dark, cover with aluminum foil. Cool in the pan for 10 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack or a plate to cool completely.

Note: If you don't have Creme Fraiche on hand or cannot find it at your local grocer, the Silver Palate recommends whipping together 1 cup heavy cream and 1 cup sour cream. Pour the mixture into a jar and let stand in a warm place until thickened, about 12 hours. Refrigerate for 36 hours before using.

I could tell my bread was a miss when it failed to rise in the first hour it is left to sit. I kept baking in hopes that the yeast would revive itself and I would lift the rag from the bowl to find a beautiful, soft and doughy mound that would bake into a lovely loaf of Portuguese sweet bread. Alas this did not happen, so I have two loaves that taste like sweet rocks. Even though the bread doesn't taste very good, the bread photographed well...every cloud has a silver lining.

If any experienced bread bakers have advice for my future bread baking endeavors, please comment or email me because I don't want to fail again. Then I might never get the courage to bake again!