This recipe is in tribute to my Grandma Irrer, who just passed away on Monday.
Aside from her many grandmotherly qualities and sweet ways, Gram was an awesome cook.
She would tell you otherwise, referring to herself as a very basic, simple farm cook.
In my girlhood, Gram had a fresh from scratch chocolate sheet cake at all times for family and the farm hands. Her homemade noodle soup, usually made with a chicken broth, vegetables and whatever was handy, was filled with homemade egg noodles … of dough rolled as thin as paper and sliced into tiny ribbons. When time was short she’d make lump soup instead. She made a killer pot roast and wonderful fried chicken and mashed potatoes and my favorite chocolate chip cookies ever (her secret was lard).
And, every week, she’d made a big batch of homemade white bread. I don’t remember how many loaves she’d make but there were quite a few, maybe six or seven.
I remember her big strong hands kneading the dough on her wooden bread board.
When we were kids, us grandchildren always got a piece of dough of our very own to pat into our own little loaf. Being Catholic kids, sometimes we would mush our dough into “hosts” and play communion. If my cousin Ken were around he’d play the priest and dole it out.
We always gathered around for the first piece out of the oven. But a lot of times we just couldn’t even wait for that. It was a rare treat when Gram would take the raw dough, slice off hunks, and fry it in her black cast iron skillet until golden brown in lard. We’d eat it dripping with butter and jam and nothing tasted quite as mouthwatering.
Awhile back I was homesick for fried bread dough. Frozen bread dough isn’t quite the same but it works in a pinch. The first time I set out to make it my little one said “mommy, you don’t fry bread dough!” She changed her tune with the first taste.
So here’s the best frozen bread dough recipe ever – trust me on this one:
One loaf of frozen bread dough, thawed and at least half-way risen
shortening – preferably lard but Crisco will suffice
butter
jam
Heat your skillet to medium high. Cut off a hunk of dough about the size of a slice. Fry on both sides until golden. Spread with butter and jam. Devour. And think of my Grandma smiling down from heaven.