Fëanor's Perfect Milk Rolls by Elwin Fortuna

Fëanor's Perfect Milk Rolls

It is a misconception held by some of the Eldar that among us, it is only women who are permitted the baking of bread. In truth, it is only the making of coimas that is the sole province of women. Even then it is few women among us who know it, for its making is reserved to the queens of the Eldar and to the Valië Yavanna herself.

It is also a misconception that among the Noldor we only care for crafts such as jewelcraft, smithcraft, the art of Bryde Míriel, and the making of pure art such as sculpture. In reality, all the works of our hands we delight in, and I, Fëanáro, have turned my hand to many of them.

Among all these crafts, the baking of this particular kind of bread is greeted with exuberant enthusiasm among my sons, who to a one all eagerly help in the making. Often I make it before setting out upon a journey with them, and we consume it, toasted on a fork, around the campfire in some remote wilderness. It is a rich, buttery roll that needs no topping to be satisfying, but will elevate even the humblest meat or cheese to a truly delicious meal. It may be eaten with stew, sliced with cold meats or cheeses, or merely by itself.

You will need the following ingredients:

Leavening, first and most important. It was Nione of the Noldor who at Cuiviénen first began to experiment with wild yeasts, and over time developed the true baker’s yeast which we all know and love. You will need one measure of this yeast for every twelve rolls you wish to make.

Next and just as important is your flour. It must be strong wheat flour, suited for the making of bread. It may be refined to your desired preferences, but you must take into account that less refined flour may need longer rising times.

You will also need milk from a cow, warm as it comes from her body. Fresh milk is ideal for a sweet and soft roll.

Butter, too, must be obtained, and this softened and warm, though not melted. Yeast is temperamental, and if not given a warm (not hot!) place to grow, will fail and die.

Salt is also most necessary, and this should be refined and small, such as the sea salt collected and strained at Alqualondë. You must take care to keep the yeast separate from the salt, for they love each other as little as half-brothers do, and given the chance the salt will kill the yeast and so ruin the bread.

Lastly, obtain two eggs from a hen. Again, fresh is best, and the eggs should not be cold.

You will need a large bowl and spoon for the mixing of your ingredients, and a sturdy table upon which to place your kneading board or mat. A cloth to cover your rising dough, and a warm place to set it will be most important. You will need a pan to bake your rolls within, and a good hot oven for their baking. A knife for dividing your dough and a set of scales to weigh it out to ensure evenness will also be most useful.

Begin by proofing your yeast. To do this add your fresh lukewarm milk to the bowl, followed by the yeast. Then wait. Have patience. Watch for the yeast to bloom across the surface of the milk like flowers in the Spring of Yavanna. If your yeast is active and fresh, it will be vigorous. If your yeast is dull and does not bloom within a few minutes, it is dead. You must obtain fresh yeast and begin again.

Once your yeast has bloomed, begin to add your flour in small batches, mixing it in as you go. Break your eggs into a separate bowl, beat them together, then add them to the dough, mix them in, and continue adding flour. Next add your softened butter to the dough and continue adding flour, mixing all together before you add more. Lastly add the salt, and mix that in too, before you continue to add flour.

At some point, the dough will come away from the sides of the bowl, and the spoon will be hard put to it to carry on stirring. That is your cue to set aside the spoon and begin to knead the bread with your hands. Turn it out upon your floured kneading board, and begin to knead.

Kneading may sound difficult, but the motion of it is quite easy and not so different from the rhythm of the forge when metal is melted and stretched for the making of swords. You must stretch the dough and so strengthen it. Press with the heel of your palm upon the bread and force it away from you on the board. Then bring it back together into a ball, folding the dough under itself, and repeat. Add flour as you need to, but beware at this point of adding too much flour. Be sparing and careful; you are baking bread, not making bricks!

At intervals, take a small portion of the bread and stretch it between the fingers of both hands, as far apart as you can before it begins to tear. When the dough is so thin and stretchy that you can see light between your hands, that is your cue that the dough is ready to rise.

Form the dough into a smooth ball, folding the edges of the dough underneath itself. Then place the dough back into the bowl, which should have been cleaned in the meantime and lightly oiled. Cover with a clean cloth and set it in a warm place. The windowsill is ideal, or near the stove if you are cooking.

Go about your business for an hour or more, returning to check on the dough at times. Once the dough has at least doubled in size, get out your clean kneading board and flour once again. It is time to punch the dough down.

This was always little Tyelkormo’s favourite task. Punch the dough several times to watch it deflate like Nolofinwë at the King’s Council having his self-serving proposals rejected.

Then turn your dough out onto the board and spend a few minutes more kneading it. You do not need to do this for a long time, just enough to be sure there are no large air bubbles remaining.

Then divide your dough up. You can, if you wish, make a loaf of it, or even two loaves. But my preference is for rolls, as they travel better. Take your knife and divide the dough in half, weighing both to ensure they are about equal. Then divide in half again, and so forth until you have twelve rolls of more or less equal size. Form them into smooth balls, tucking the edges of the dough underneath. Set them in a large pan, lightly oiled, a little way apart from each other.

Leave them to rise under the cloth again, until they have reached once more double in size. Get your oven good and hot during this time, as you will desire to put them into a heated oven.

Lastly, and this step is at your own choice, but I recommend it, take either a measure of melted butter, or a beaten egg, and brush it lightly over the tops of your rolls. Then put them immediately into the oven. They will take around fifteen to twenty minutes if you have made rolls, thirty to forty minutes if you have made loaves.

You will know that they are ready when you pull them from the oven and the tops are golden brown. When you tap the rolls, they should sound hollow inside, as hollow as the empty heart of Melkor. Turn them onto a rack to cool, and spend the next thirty minutes at least fending off eager children from stealing them. Then you may consume them, or pack them for your next adventure, at your will. If kept away from air and sun, they will last you several days, but in truth, none of these rolls in my household have ever lasted so long as to go stale.

Recipe
300ml lukewarm milk
1 packet (or 1 tbsp) of instant or active dry yeast
Approx 500g flour
100g softened butter
2 eggs
10 g salt

Bake at 180C (350F). Makes twelve large rolls or one large loaf.