There was a big outdoor concert on Reforma on Sunday night, and in the midst of a string of lesser-known Spanish-language pop bands, I got bored and felt like going for a beer. Three micheladas and two glasses of wine later, I was feeling gooood. The next morning, though — revenge. Dry mouth. Headache.
I’d forgotten to eat anything on my beverage spree.
I ate some dry cereal and grumbled to myself about how I was too old for this crap. In my brain fog, I downloaded Confessions of a Shopaholic. (Note to everyone else: BAD IDEA.) Then I saw a bowl of potatoes sitting on the counter.
Wait.
Potato bread. That could make my hangover better.
It was warm, hearty. My stomach could handle a yeasty slice soaked in butter. Hell, maybe I’d even have it for lunch, since I certainly wouldn’t be eating the last serving of Alice’s homemade kung pao chicken. (She’d brought some over on Saturday.) Okay, it was settled. I’d make potato bread. But first, to get myself in kneading shape, I would need a sugar injection in the form of Diet Coke. Thank you, past Lesley, for buying a Diet Coke at Oxxo on Saturday.
Feeling unfit to google any recipes, I grabbed Joy of Cooking from its handy spot on top of our Spanish-language dictionary and flipped to the potato bread recipe. I microwaved and riced a potato, made my dough, and kneaded it until sweat beads formed at my temples. Unsure of exactly how fast it would rise because of the high altitude, I watched the dough carefully as it rose and then rose again.
By 2 p.m., I had a warm, golden-brown loaf resting on a wire rack. But by then I wasn’t hungry anymore. I’d also decided to whip up a bowl of jook for lunch. Yes. When other people are hungover, they sit in their pajamas all day. I make potato bread and Chinese rice porridge. I think I have Energizer Bunnies in my intestines.
When I finally did cut off a slice — while watching the dreadfully shallow Confessions movie (Isla Fisher, why have you abandoned me?) — the bread almost fulfilled my dreams. It needed more potato flavor, but the texture was just about perfect. Soft and chewy. Just the type of pillow you’d want to rest your hangover-pounding head on.
Recipes below, in case your head is ever in a vise, too. The jook is amazingly easy. A thickened, creamy rice porridge seems especially fit for overcast days like today.
Buttermilk Potato Bread
From The Joy of Cooking
Makes two loaves (I halved the recipe to make one)
3/4 c. freshly cooked potatoes, rice through a ricer or mashed with a fork, and kept warm
8 tablespoons butter, very soft
4 teaspoons active dry yeast
2 cups buttermilk, at room temp
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
6 1/4 to 6 1/2 cups bread flour
Place your still-hot potatoes in a large mixing bowl, and stir in the butter. Add the next five ingredients — everything but the flour — and mix well. Gradually stir in the flour until the dough is moist and not sticky. When it comes together, knead by hand for 10 to 12 minutes. As soon as the dough is smooth, soft and elastic, transfer the dough to an oiled bowl and turn once to coat. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature until doubled in volume. (In my house, this took about an hour.)
Grease two 9 x 5 loaf pans. Punch the dough down, divide it in half and form two loaves. Place seam side down in the pans. Cover with oiled plastic wrap and let rise until nearly doubled in volume. (Again, about an hour in my house.) Preheat the oven to 375, or 400 if you’re in a high altitude. Brush the tops with 1 egg, lightly beaten with a pinch of salt.
Bake until the crust is golden brown and the bottoms sound hollow when tapped, 40 to 45 minutes. Remove loaves from the pans to a rack and let cool at least 30 minutes before serving.
Jook
(Chinese Rice Porridge)
Note: I made mine with cooked rice, but you can also make it with dry rice. It just takes longer. And you’re technically supposed to cook your mushrooms… I was too lazy to do it, or even chop them into little pieces. So ignore my Hun-sized mushrooms below.
1 cup cooked rice
2 cups low-sodium chicken broth, or a mix of chicken broth and water
1 teaspoon grated ginger
Veggie/meats of your choice: I used left over pork rib meat, cilantro and mushrooms; seen others use hard-boiled egg, bok choy, tomatoes. It’s whatever you want it to be.
Pour broth in a large saucepan and add rice. Let boil, then bring to a gentle simmer, stirring occasionally. When the rice begins to break down and thicken, add your ginger. Keep stirring and/or adding more liquid until you reach your desired consistency. Serve and feel extremely blessed that you don’t have to go into work feeling like a zombie.