On Baking My Mother's Irish Soda Bread Recipe
Irish soda bread saved one fussy child on St. Patty’s Day. All photos by Alex Van Buren
To look at my byline is to not know how Irish my family is. But—Dutch last name aside—I’m 31/32nd Irish, right down to the Kennedy mom (no, not those Kennedys), freckled skin, and abiding affection for Guinness.
My mother was one of seven kids, my dad was one of eight, and in both Irish-American families, you’d better believe they celebrated the heck out of St. Patrick’s Day, right down to the traditional foods. I’d know the dread day had arrived by the scent that permeated the house: My mother would start boiling that darn cabbage seemingly when she put on her morning pot of coffee.
I wasn’t a good eater as a child, and I wasn’t shy about expressing my aversion for a food. On St. Patty’s, I’d cover my face with a T-shirt like a combat zone reporter, grumbling my way about the house. (Today, cabbage remains one of my vegetable nemeses.)
At dinner, I would slouch in front of the corned beef, picking it apart, isolating the creepy fatty bits (which as an adult I realize are delicious), sectioning those off and to the side of the plate. The cabbage I did not permit to cross the meridian to the right of my little brother—on pain of a covert kick administered under the table.
Sometimes your soda bread will puff way up, and sometimes not so much!
Thank God and St. Patrick alike, then, for Irish soda bread, which in my house rounded out the holy trinity of clichéd Irish-American foods and, I think, kept me alive. My mother’s recipe was the best thing about the day: The bread was thickly sliced, buttery, strewn with plump raisins, and placed in a basket that edged ever nearer to me over the course of dinner.
Mom sent me the recipe card recently, and although a lot of things are incorrect—and there are no directions on it!—she still makes the recipe from memory. (For instance, the card suggests she cut chilled butter into the mix. She did not. It was the late 70s, she had three kids and a job, and she put the butter into the microwave, like you do.)
This Irish soda bread is blessedly caraway seed-free, straightforward, and ideal to serve along any sort of stew. I re-tested it this weekend, and lo and behold, it holds up.
Sláinte, and happy St. Patrick’s Day.
The recipe card from the 1970s. Note: That baking powder measurement is way off, and should be baking soda instead!
Irish Soda Bread Recipe
Adapted from Gail Van Buren
Serves 6-8
3 Tbsp butter, plus more for pan and for serving
1 Tbsp plus 2 tsp baking soda
5 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 cup raisins
2 eggs
3 Tbsp sugar
2 cups milk
Preheat oven to 300° F. Butter a loaf pan or 9” square glass baking pan. Set aside.
Melt butter using microwave in a small pan over low heat. Remove from heat, and set aside. Allow to come to room temperature.
Mix baking soda, flour, and salt together in large bowl. (Mix well, to be sure baking soda is totally incorporated.) Stir in raisins. Set aside.
Whisk eggs in medium-sized bowl. Add milk, and whisk to combine. Slowly add melted butter, whisking.
Make well in center of dry ingredients and pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients. Using a wooden spoon, combine all ingredients. Do not over mix.
Place into buttered pan and bake until golden-brown and a knife inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean. Serve warm, with butter.
More tasty Irish ideas:
Make corned beef hash the day after!
Good-looking St. Patty’s Day recipes
Are you cooking or going out to drink green beer this St. Patrick’s Day?
