
Chef Elsa
Allerheiligenstriezel
A rich, buttery braided bread that Austrian godfathers bring their godchildren on All Saints' Day. The golden six-strand braid is as much ritual as recipe, and the kitchen smells like love while it bakes.
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A golden braided yeast loaf hiding a dark, fragrant swirl of ground poppy seeds, rum-soaked raisins, and lemon zest. The bread Austrians bake when the holidays demand something beautiful on the table.
In my grandmother Eva's kitchen in Kent, the poppy seed grinder lived on the top shelf. It only came down twice a year: once before Christmas and once before Easter. That was my signal. When the grinder appeared, Gretel was coming, and they were going to bake something I'd been thinking about for months.
Mohnstriezel is braided yeast bread with a filling of ground poppy seeds, rum-soaked raisins, a little honey, and enough lemon zest to make the whole kitchen smell sharp and sweet at once. The dough is enriched with butter and egg yolks, soft and golden, and when you roll it out and spread the dark filling across the surface, the contrast is so stark it looks almost painted. You roll it tight, braid it, let it rise again, and bake it until the top turns a deep amber and the seams of the braid just start to crack open, showing that dark filling underneath.
Gretel always said you could tell how good a Mohnstriezel was before you tasted it. If the swirl was tight and even when you sliced it, the baker knew what they were doing. If the filling pooled at the bottom and the dough gaped open at the top, they'd rushed the rolling or skimped on the breadcrumbs that bind the filling together. She was right. The technique is not difficult, but it rewards you for taking your time, for rolling evenly, for letting the dough rest when it tells you to.
This is the kind of baking that fills your house with a smell so good you'll want to stand at the oven door for the last ten minutes just watching it darken. Austrians bake Mohnstriezel for Allerheiligen, for Christmas Eve, for Easter morning. I bake it whenever I miss those afternoons in Deal, with flour on my hands and Gretel telling me to roll it tighter.
Poppy seed baking runs deep through Central European cuisine, stretching from Austria through Bohemia, Hungary, and into Poland, a legacy of the Habsburg empire's shared kitchen. Mohn (poppy seed) has been cultivated in the Waldviertel region of Lower Austria since the Middle Ages, and the Waldviertel still produces Austria's finest culinary poppy. Mohnstriezel and its cousins, Mohnstrudel and Mohnbeugel, appear on Austrian tables for Allerheiligen (All Saints' Day) on November 1st, when families visit cemeteries and return home to coffee and braided breads. The association between poppy seed pastries and remembrance days is centuries old, with some food historians linking the tradition to the poppy's ancient symbolism of sleep and peace.
Quantity
500g
Quantity
80g
Quantity
7g
Quantity
200ml
lukewarm
Quantity
80g
softened
Quantity
2
Quantity
1
Quantity
1 packet (8g)
Quantity
1
zested
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
200g
Quantity
120ml
Quantity
60g
Quantity
30g
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
50g
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
1
zested
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1
mixed with 1 tablespoon milk
Quantity
for topping
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| plain flour | 500g |
| granulated sugar (for dough) | 80g |
| dried yeast | 7g |
| whole milk (for dough)lukewarm | 200ml |
| unsalted butter (for dough)softened | 80g |
| egg yolks (for dough) | 2 |
| whole egg (for dough) | 1 |
| Vanillezucker (vanilla sugar) | 1 packet (8g) |
| lemon (for dough)zested | 1 |
| fine salt | 1/2 teaspoon |
| ground poppy seeds (Mohn) | 200g |
| whole milk (for filling) | 120ml |
| granulated sugar (for filling) | 60g |
| unsalted butter (for filling) | 30g |
| honey | 2 tablespoons |
| raisins | 50g |
| dark rum | 3 tablespoons |
| lemon (for filling)zested | 1 |
| fine breadcrumbs | 2 tablespoons |
| ground cinnamon | 1/2 teaspoon |
| egg yolk (for egg wash)mixed with 1 tablespoon milk | 1 |
| pearl sugar or sliced almonds (optional) | for topping |
Put the raisins in a small bowl and pour the rum over them. Give them a stir and leave them alone for at least an hour, longer if you can manage it. The raisins need time to drink up the rum and turn plump and fragrant. If you skip this or cut it short, you'll have dry, hard little raisins sitting in your filling doing nothing useful.
Warm the milk until it's just lukewarm, about the temperature of a comfortable bath. Dissolve the yeast in the milk with a pinch of the sugar and let it sit for five minutes until it turns foamy on top. That foam tells you the yeast is alive and working. If nothing happens after ten minutes, your yeast is dead and you need fresh. Put the flour in a large bowl. Add the sugar, salt, Vanillezucker, and lemon zest. Make a well in the center. Pour in the yeast mixture, the egg yolks, and the whole egg. Begin mixing with a wooden spoon, then add the softened butter in pieces as the dough comes together. Turn it out onto a floured surface and knead for eight to ten minutes until it's smooth, elastic, and springs back when you press a finger into it. This dough should feel soft and a little tacky, but it shouldn't stick to your hands in sheets. If it does, add flour a tablespoon at a time.
Shape the dough into a ball and place it in a lightly oiled bowl. Cover with a clean tea towel and put it somewhere warm, not hot, for about an hour and a half, until it doubles in size. The top of the fridge works. So does a turned-off oven with just the light on. Yeast wants gentle warmth, not a sauna. If you rush it with too much heat, the dough will rise fast but taste flat.
While the dough rises, make the filling. In a small saucepan, bring the milk, sugar, and butter to a gentle simmer over medium heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves and the butter melts. Remove from the heat and stir in the ground poppy seeds. They'll absorb the liquid and turn into a thick, dark, slightly gritty paste. Add the honey, lemon zest, cinnamon, breadcrumbs, and the rum-soaked raisins with any leftover rum. Stir everything together and let it cool completely. The breadcrumbs are doing quiet but important work here. They absorb extra moisture so the filling stays put inside the braid instead of leaking out the seams while it bakes. Don't leave them out.
Punch down the risen dough and turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Roll it into a large rectangle, roughly 40 by 30 centimeters. The dough will want to spring back. Let it. If it fights you too hard, walk away for five minutes and come back. The gluten needs to relax, and forcing it only makes things worse. Spread the cooled poppy seed filling evenly over the surface, leaving a two-centimeter border on all sides. Be thorough. If the filling is patchy, your slices will have bald spots of plain dough with no poppy seed in them, and that's a disappointment nobody needs.
Starting from the long edge closest to you, roll the dough up tightly into a log, tucking the filling in as you go. Pinch the seam to seal it and place the log seam-side down. Now, using a sharp knife or a bench scraper, cut the log in half lengthwise from end to end. You'll see the dark poppy seed spiral exposed in cross-section. Turn both halves so the cut sides face up. Pinch the two strands together at one end, then twist them around each other, keeping the cut sides facing upward so the filling stays visible. Pinch the other end to seal. Transfer the braided loaf carefully to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Tuck the ends underneath slightly to give it a clean shape.
Cover the shaped Striezel loosely with a tea towel and let it rise for another thirty to forty minutes. It should puff up noticeably but won't double again. While it rises, preheat your oven to 175°C (350°F) with the rack in the center. Don't rush this second rise. If you put it in the oven too soon, the braid will tear open in ugly places as the dough expands. Give it time and the oven spring will be gentle and even.
Brush the entire surface of the Striezel with the egg wash, getting into the crevices of the braid. The egg wash is what gives you that deep golden, lacquered finish. Scatter pearl sugar or sliced almonds over the top if you like. Both are traditional. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until the top is a rich, deep amber and the loaf sounds hollow when you tap the bottom. If the top darkens too quickly, tent it loosely with foil for the last ten minutes. The internal temperature should reach about 88°C (190°F) if you have a probe thermometer.
Let the Mohnstriezel cool on a wire rack for at least thirty minutes before slicing. I know the smell will make this difficult. But the filling is still setting as it cools, and if you cut into it too early, the poppy seed layer will smear instead of holding its shape in a clean, dark spiral against the golden crumb. Slice with a sharp serrated knife. Serve it at room temperature with good butter and strong coffee. Or just as it is. It doesn't need anything else. Mahlzeit!
1 serving (about 125g)
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