Time To Make Seeded Bread (And Why It’s The Best Way To Beat The Cold)

It’s been one of those weeks. The kind where stepping outside is akin to walking into a meat locker with the door slammed shut behind you. You know the kind of cold where your bones ache just thinking about it? Yeah, that’s been our reality lately. January is that month where I really start thinking about turning into one of those snow birds that moves to warmer climes. Since a massive relocation isn’t in the cards, I did what any rational person would do when faced with a weather-related crisis: I decided to bake bread.

I know I bake bread all the time. It's one of those things I’ve come to enjoy, mostly because it fills the house with that magical, “everything’s going to be okay” smell. But this bread—this seeded bread—well, this one is different. This bread is a big ol’ healthy, warm blanket kind of bread. The kind you make when you’re so cold that curling up under a blanket and eating carbs feels like your only option. I figured that, at the very least, I’d be cozy and nourished, even if the weather outside was a frozen tundra.

So, with all the reckless confidence of someone who’s baked their fair share of loaves, I decided to make my own seeded bread. The "healthy" kind, of course. Because, you know, winter body preparation.

So, without further ado, here’s how I threw together a loaf of seeded bread that not only warms your kitchen (and your soul) but also leaves you feeling like you’ve accomplished something… even if it’s just filling your stomach with carbs. (Hey, carbs are important!). And for the record, this bread dipped in a big steaming bowl of soup is comfort to the max! You know that book, “When You Give a Mouse a Cookie”? Well, if you’re going to make seeded bread, you might as well have soup to go with it!




The Logic Behind Seeded Bread (Or, How I Justified My Obsession with Seeds)

I’ve come to realize that there’s something magical about adding seeds to your bread. It’s like you’re making a healthy choice, but also tricking yourself into thinking it’s gourmet. Like, “Look at me, I’m adding flax and chia seeds, so I’m basically a health guru now.” I’ve got this weird internal dialogue that goes something like, “If I put enough seeds in this bread, it’s practically a salad, right?” And sure, that’s probably a stretch, but let me have this one.  And frankly, it's so much better than the stuff that costs an arm and a leg at the store.  

But seriously, seeds are pretty nutritious, and they’re easy to throw in without messing things up (which, trust me, is important when you’re dealing with bread, since baking is a science). Plus, the crunchy texture they provide makes each bite feel like an achievement. It’s like eating a little victory, one slice at a time.

The Recipe: Seeded Bread for Beginners (With a Side of Confidence)

Okay, so here's the thing: bread can be fussy and winter temps can make rising times tricky. But the more you do it, the better you’re going to get. And you know what? Kneading bread has been shown to be meditative. Yeah baby! You’re making healthy bread AND you’re meditating.

Ingredients:

  • 2 cups all-purpose flour (I promise, it’s not a typo. This isn’t some weird gluten-free flour nonsense. Go with the classic.)
  • 1 cup whole wheat flour (we said healthy, right?)
  • 1/2 cup old fashioned oats
  • 1 tablespoon instant yeast (the fast kind, so you don’t have to spend hours wondering if your yeast is alive or dead)
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup (optional, but it makes the bread a little sweeter and who doesn’t love a sweet, warm loaf?)
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil (for some fancy Mediterranean vibes)
  • 1 cup warm water (not scalding hot, just cozy)
  • 1/4 cup sunflower seeds (for that crunch that says “I’m doing something good for myself”)
  • 1/4 cup pumpkin seeds (for extra crunch and, let’s face it, because pumpkin seeds are cool)
  • 2 tablespoons chia seeds (Because why not throw in some chia seeds? They’re trendy, and it makes you sound like a professional.)
  • 1 tablespoon flax seeds (For good measure. I feel like they belong in every health-related thing ever.)
  • Optional: A few extra seeds for sprinkling on top, because you’re extra like that.

Instructions:

  1. Combine 1/2 cup oats with 1 cup water. Now just walk away. I mean it, give this 30 minutes to soften up.
  2. Make the dough: In a large mixing bowl, combine the flours, yeast and salt. Make a little well in the middle (it’s like creating a tiny volcano of flour). Pour the the softened oats in the well, followed by the olive oil and honey or maple syrup if you’re using it. Stir everything together with a wooden spoon until it forms a dough. It’s going to be a little sticky, but don’t panic—that’s how it’s supposed to be.
  3. Knead the dough: Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and start kneading it. It’ll feel like you’re just squishing and stretching it at first, but eventually, it’ll come together into a soft, elastic ball. You’ll want to knead it for about 8-10 minutes. I’d recommend putting on some music to make it feel like a workout. (Maybe some 80s power ballads for extra motivation.)
  4. Add the seeds: Once the dough is smooth and elastic, it’s time to fold in the seeds. Gently knead them into the dough until evenly distributed. This is where you’ll really start feeling like you’re a bread-making wizard. If you spill a few seeds, just pretend it’s part of the charm.
  5. Let it rise: Place your dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover it with a damp cloth, and let it rise for about 1-1.5 hours, or until it doubles in size. If you’re impatient, you can always do the sniff test—if it smells doughy and nice, you’re good to go.
  6. Shape the dough: Punch down the dough (this part feels very satisfying), then shape it into a loaf. If you’re feeling fancy, you can roll it into a tight ball or braid it for a more artisan look. I went with “loaf,” but I can’t judge.
  7. Let it rise again: Place your shaped dough onto a baking tray lined with parchment paper and cover it with a cloth. Let it rise for another 30 minutes. This is your moment to preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). I put a dutch oven into the oven with the lid on, because I think it makes for the perfect bread, but if you don’t have one, you can always just bake on the baking sheet. Get ready for the aroma that will soon fill your house and make all your neighbors jealous.
  8. Bake: Carefully remove the super hot lid and put your bread dough (parchment and all) into the dutch oven. You can just slide the cookie sheet in if you want. Bake for 30 minutes with the lid on, uncover and bake another 20 minutes or until you’ve got a nice deep caramel color on the crust and it’s hollow sounding when you tap on the bottom. Carefully take your bread out using the parchment paper.
  9. Cool: Let the bread cool on a wire rack for at least an hour. I know, that feels like forever. But if you cut into bread too soon, it gets gummy and you don’t want to ruin all that hard work! Then slice, slather with butter or some honey and enjoy a little slice of heaven. This bread also makes amazing grilled cheese sandwiches…just sayin.

The Verdict

I won’t lie: this bread was a win. It was cozy. It was healthy-ish (thanks to the seeds). And it made the whole house smell like a bakery, which is the best part of baking, if we’re being honest. If you’re cold and need something to warm you up—this seeded bread is the answer.

Plus, there’s something deeply satisfying about cutting into a warm loaf, knowing you’ve created it with your own two hands. Or, at least, your two hands and a little help from the yeast.

So, grab those seeds, throw on your favorite sweater, and let’s all pretend to be gourmet bakers for the afternoon. Your kitchen (and your soul) will thank you.

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