 |
| Stollen fruit and nut bread by Hot Bread Kitchen |
I never expected, back in December 2014, to discover something new at the breakfast table, but there it was on Christmas morning: a short, lumpy loaf, swaddled like the baby Jesus himself in a thick blanket of powdered sugar—the very picture of old-fashioned holiday gatherings. Nevertheless, the calzone-size stollen remained untouched throughout the entire meal, overshadowed by a heavily frosted bûche de Noël decorated with meringue fungi, a plastic Santa-driven sled, plastic Season's Greetings and an equally plastic spear of holly.
It wasn't until later in the evening, propelled by boredom, that I gravitated toward the stollen, knife and plate in hand. Slicing through the powdered sugar wasn't as messy as I thought it would be. Back to the living room I went, to enjoy my sliver of stollen and coffee (brewed earlier but still hot), on the couch, in front of the glowing monolith that is my parents' television.
Somewhat like panettone but denser, the bread-cake hybrid had me at guten tag. The cool feeling of powdered sugar on your tongue, mixed with the heavy bread, marzipan, dried fruit and spices, makes you feel all bundled up inside, and wrapped and warm and ready for winter.
I had to learn more.
Legend has it—a most appetizing phrase—that stollen goes back to the 14th century in Germany, where the existence of stollen was recorded for the first time in 1474 on a bill at a Christian hospital.
By most historical accounts, the Middle Ages was a tough time for man and bread alike. When I think of 14th century Europe I think of brown-cowled monks and giant cauldrons like in The Name of the Rose—the Umberto Eco novel turned Sean Connery movie that takes place in 14th century Italy. Of course, nothing records the general human condition of a specific time and place more tellingly than art. With that in mind, here is one of the most famous sculptures from Germany, circa 1325:
 |
| The Roettgen Pieta, Early 14th Century, Reinesches Landesmuseum, Bonn, Germany |
As you can see from its heavy emphasis on emotional anguish and physical pain, this 3-foot Gothic statue does not suggest an era that would bring us the Cronut. In addition to the plague, Europeans of that century had also endured dismally bland stollen made solely of flour, yeast and water.
It took an official letter from the Pope, more than a hundred years later, known as The Butter Missive, to loosen the rules of Advent and bring butter to stollen. And you can bet your sweet marzipan that butter made stollen better.
Today, stollen, aka Weihnachtsstollen, aka Christstollen, is gaining in popularity far beyond the borders of Dresden, the city that lays claim to the original stollen and most-prized version, and where an annual stollen festival is held at the Dresden Striezelmarket—the oldest Christmas market in Germany. Dresden of course takes its stollen very seriously. Authentic Dresden Stollen can only be found in Dresden, baked by any one of 150 official Dresden stollen bakers.
For those who have never tried stollen, if you're looking for ways to relax and enjoy the cold winter, I recommend stollen with a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. The power of a good stollen is its ability to take the harshness out of winter, transforming snow-covered rooftops and driveways into powdered-sugar landscapes. And, like its legacy, stollen itself is long-lasting. Buy it in October, keep it refrigerated, and it'll stay edible at least until March.
