Pan de Muerto from Fine Cooking Magazine, October/November 2010

I got in trouble for this picture. Dudette came home from Tae Kwon Do while I was taking it and I was sure she was going to practice some of her kicks on me. You see, those skulls are hers and I used them without asking her permission. She takes her skulls and skeletons very seriously. Those aren't a Halloween decoration. Nope. They're Dudette room decorations, which clash remarkably with the butterflies and flowers on the walls, drapes and bedding. When decorating a one year-old's room parents never imagine that their child will go goth by the time she reaches age four.

Props aside, this recipe was one of those that I passed by again and again each time I was paging through the magazine for something to make. First, it's bread, which has never been my favorite thing (to make; I can eat it without any encouragement what-so-ever). Second, this is a specific bread that's made a specific way for a specific purpose. To mess it up would be twice as wrong.

Pan de Muerto is made across Mexico to celebrate Day of the Dead, a holiday honoring those who have passed away. In the section of the magazine called "Cooking Class," pastry chef Fany Gerson helped provide step-by-step instructions on how to make the bread, which is the only reason I decided to give it a go (I was going to stay undertake the effort, but there's something really morbid and not-funny pun-ish about using that word).

This is not a difficult recipe to follow and put together. There is milk, which is heated with butter and orange zest. There is yeast, which is bloomed in warm water. Then there is flour, sugar and salt, which is plopped on a working surface with a well in the middle so the blooming yeast and warm milk can be incorporated in a similar fashion as used in making pasta. I like this part because it allows me to play with my ingredients.

Due to an unfortunate accident the day before, I had to do the mixing and kneading one-handed. That was no problem except for the fact that I forgot to remove my wedding and engagement rings and the cuts were on my right fingers. Oops.

Upon incorporating the wet ingredients with the dry, I found that I needed about 3/4 cup more flour than the instructions called for before the bread got to the correct consistency (smooth but still slightly sticky). I loved the fact that it had a small kiss of orange in it and kept trying to smell to see if the aroma would drift up while I was kneading the dough. No luck, however. When the kneading was finished, the dough went in a bowl, was covered and placed in a warm area of the house.

When it was time, I followed instructions made the balls for the bread, the strips for the bones that were draped over the bread and set it all out for another rest. Then into the oven it went. After 30 minutes of baking I loosely covered the loaf with foil so it wouldn't brown any further but would continue to cook (for another 15 minutes). Then I removed it, let it cool a few minutes, brushed it with melted butter and sprinkled it liberally with sugar.

They say that this bread is perfect to eat with coffee or hot chocolate. I can't imagine it being more perfect than it is all by itself, honestly. It's absolutely delicious. Aesthetically, I know I need to practice rolling the "bones" a bit and there was a problem with my dough rising because the bread cracked as it cooked, but other than those things, I'm very, very pleased. In fact, we all were. For the first time in her life, Dudette said that she liked the peels (as she calls the crust) the best. I'm looking forward to having it with my coffee in the morning, that's for sure.

I can only find one fault with this bread. It gives me the hiccups. Even if I eat just one bite and then put it down, I start hiccuping. It's worth it though. This bread is wonderful.