Rachel Roddy's cheesy Easter bread recipe

One of the most satisfying aspects of cooking is continuity. In my ideal world, this would be an efficient and resourceful stockpot rolling on a back burner, a legion of preserves in the larder, no stale slice of bread or cake left behind, meals cooked with two in mind (the cook’s answer to a child’s one for me, one for you – “you” being the freezer). And while I sometimes achieve some of this, reality is often milder, even in lockdown.

Leftovers are a relay baton into the next meal: a parmesan rind prompting soup, a no-cook jam, the surplus from a lasagne, rolled into cannelloni and then frozen. Then there is the continuation of ideas, the variations on a theme, which feels like the cooking equivalent of wearing the same outfit again and again, washing it but then putting it back on again because it is comfortable and familiar. For the last month of lockdown, I have been wearing a black polo-neck, a denim skirt and black or red opaque tights and making variations on a yeasted dough theme.

When I can find yeast and flour, that is. Fortunately for me, both our local bakery – with its two-metre-distance masking-tape stripes – and supermarket are calling out greedy shoppers. Quite literally shouting “Oi” across the aisle, reminding whoever that they will still be here tomorrow and not to panic. I do panic, almost every day, my fears about the domestic minutiae and the huge alike, spiralling outwards like radiation. It would be untrue to say I’m calmed by dissolving yeast in warm liquid for focaccia, milk rolls, last week’s maritozzi or this week’s cheesy Easter bread. But I am steadied and distracted by the process, the congeniality of the bubbling yeast, the promise of the thick smell as I bake, and thoughts of eating.

Most recipes seem to suggest letting this sort of pizza di pasqua al formaggio, or crescia di formaggio, rest overnight, which has as much to do with flavour (it certainly deepens) and consistency (firms), but also timing. You make it the day before in preparation for a late breakfast on Easter Sunday. While different regions have different types of yeasted bread enriched with cheese, some sweeter, some made with ricotta, others studded with cubes of salami, the accompaniments are pretty consistent: sharp and salty cheeses, hard-boiled eggs, salami or cured meats, big bowls of broad beans or peas in their pods … abundance we almost certainly won’t see this year, but that we can imagine. I think it is better still after two days, whether that be Easter Monday or any day, cut into slices (which invariably crumble at the edges), toasted and spread generously with butter.

Cheesy Easter bread

25g fresh yeast, or 10g dried
250ml milk, tepid
A pinch of sugar
2 eggs
75g parmesan, grated
75g pecorino romano, grated
60ml olive oil
7g salt
Black pepper
250g 00 flour
250g strong white bread flour

If you are using fresh yeast, dissolve it in the milk with a pinch of sugar and leave to activate for 10 minutes. Add the eggs, cheeses, olive oil, salt and pepper and whisk together with fork. If you are using dried yeast, add it to the egg and cheese mixture now with the milk.

Add the two kinds of flour to the other ingredients gradually, whisking in between each addition, then use your hands to bring it together. Knead the dough until smooth and pliable.

Tuck the ends under gently to make a round the size of an 18cm cake tin and put it in. Leave in a warm, draught-free spot for two to four hours, or until it has doubled in size.

Bake at 210C (190C fan)/410F/gas 6¹/₂ in the middle of the oven for 35 minutes. Remove the bread from the tin and return it to the oven loosely covered in tin foil for a further 10 minutes.