Berliner Schrippe

Schrippe is Berlin bread, the roll you split for breakfast, pack for work, or set beside soup when the pot has done its honest duty. It isn't feast bread. It belongs to the weekday table, which means it has to be cheap, crisp, and made properly. In Berlin the split down the back gives it the name; elsewhere they argue over Brötchen, Rundstück, Weck, or Semmel, and half the country thinks its word is the only sensible one. Im Norden anders, im Süden anders.

I make it with Type 550 wheat flour, a small overnight starter, and no packet trick. Nicht aus dem Glas, and not from a freezer bag either. The starter gives a plain white roll a little depth and helps the crust brown; without it, you get something pale and forgettable by lunch.

The cut decides the roll. Let the dough proof until it is light but still has spring, then cut it boldly down the middle and bake it hot with steam. Cut too early and the seam closes while it rises. Cut too late and the roll collapses. Skip the steam and the crust sets dull before the back can open. Erst verstehen, dann kochen.

Weggeworfen wird nichts: stale Schrippen become Semmelbrösel, breadcrumbs, or cubes for Semmelknödel, bread dumplings. A German bread basket has a second life built into it.