In summer, I like to put the lightest possible bread on the table, thin, crisp and snappy. The commercial Scandinavian-style crispbreads are fine, dark with rye flour and pockmarked with holes, but those we make ourselves will have an interesting artisan wobbliness to them.
A homebaked crispbread has a tendency to twist and warp in the oven, emerging with an uneven quality to charm and tempt in a way a factory-made crispbread never can. You cannot resist snapping off a piece of warm, curling rye cracker.
We have a tendency to link these thin, brittle doughs with weight-watching when, in fact, they have no such connotations in their countries of origin. They are simply a light and crunchy form of bread to eat with a meal – a modern version of the long-life doughs that accompanied long sailing trips.
Slather a crispbread with tarragon-flecked fresh cheese or a curl of smoked eel, or a fudge-coloured pâté of smoked mackerel and you have something every bit as gratifying as a wodge of crusty bread.
What gives this Scandinavian-style baking such a kick is the slightly sour note that comes from the rye flour. (That is partly what makes them the perfect vehicle for slices of smoked salmon.) Use wheat flour by all means, but with rye comes a faint backnote, like that of a thinly cut piece of sourdough toast, not dissimilar to the treacly pumpernickel that is so sensationally good with lightly smoked fish.
My own attempts at sheets of thin bread are based on those I have seen at the market in Stockholm, a favourite place for lunch when I am there. (You perch on a stool and brace yourself for a potatofest – the tubers are bound to come in some form or another.) There is always a bread of interest here. Perhaps a coarse one with the surface of sandpaper, or ones sprinkled with nigella, pumpkin or sesame seeds.
By making our own, we are able to add seasonings according to our whim rather than sticking to traditional flavourings. I like to include caraway, blue-grey poppy seeds and aniseed.
I particularly appreciate using crispbreads as a scoop for herb creams and soft, silky pâtés. We can add a certain sumptuousness with a pile of shredded smoked salmon, lemon zest and dill-speckled cream cheese, a smoky dip of roasted aubergine and pomegranate molasses, or a mash of cooked crab with coriander leaves and lime juice.
My own preference is for smoked fish-related pastes and pâtés. I crush smoked mackerel with snipped dill or fennel fronds, and stir in grated beetroot and just enough soured cream to hold the mixture together. Spring onions and a drop of cider vinegar balance the sugar load of the beets. This week I made a sloppy, pulse-related salad of garlicky brown lentils and fried onions – like a cool dhal that we scooped up with shatterings of rye bread – and another of salmon and cucumber. Both slipped on to the crispbread with ease: a happy marriage of soft and silky with crisp and dry.
Smoked salmon and cucumber dip
½ small, ridged cucumber
2 or 3 cornichons
1 tsp capers
100g mayonnaise
100g soured cream, cottage cheese or crème fraîche
½ tsp smooth Dijon mustard
1 tsp lemon juice
a small bunch dill
150g smoked salmon
Directions
Peel the cucumber, halve it and then remove the seeds with a teaspoon. Cut the cucumber flesh into thick match-like strips and then put these into a colander or sieve and place over a small mixing bowl. Sprinkle the strips with salt and leave for 20 minutes, during which time much of the water will drain from the cucumber. Finally, pat dry with paper kitchen towel.
Cut the cornichons into small dice. Rinse the capers, dry them and add to the chopped cornichons then stir in the mayonnaise, soured cream, cheese or crème fraîche, mustard, lemon juice and a little black pepper. Finely chop the dill fronds and fold in.
Shred the salmon into thin strips, then fold – together with the drained cucumber – into the mixture. Chill briefly before serving.
Rye crispbread
400g
1 tsp
10g
350ml
Directions
Put the flour into a large bowl and add the salt. Warm the water to about 22C (if you don't have a thermometer get the water pleasantly warm). Crumble the yeast into the water and whisk until the water is milky and has virtually dissolved.
Pour the yeast mixture into the flour and stir. The result will be sticky, stiff and wet. Cover the bowl with clingfilm or a cloth and leave in a warm place for an hour, during which time it will rise a little. Don't expect the rise to be as voluminous as with white dough – it should just be a little puffed up.
Line a baking sheet – or better still, two – with baking parchment. (You will need to bake these large breads in batches.) Set the oven at 200C/gas mark 6.
Roll out about a 12th of the dough into a rough disc the size of a side plate. It will be difficult to roll, so you might like to do this on the baking sheet rather than on the work surface. You can cut the edges using a plate as a template if you wish, though I tend to leave mine rough. Pierce the surface of the dough all over with holes, using a fork or skewer. Bake for 15-18 minutes until the bread is truly crisp. Remove and continue with the rest of the dough. Once cool, the bread will keep in a biscuit tin for a few days.
