“Don’t fill up on bread!” was a common warning at my childhood dinner table. When I was growing up I had a natural affinity for carbs (which has not let up with age) and I would routinely down half a loaf of Italian bread at dinner. The bread on our table was simple and straightforward. But as I grew up, I acquired a palate for
the finer things in life. So it’s no wonder that when I encounter an exquisite and complex loaf I can’t help but worship it.
On Friday at Hedone, chef Mikael Jonsson proudly offered up slices of his fragrant, acidic sourdough, which is attained with long fermentation and stone ground French wheat. In spite of the imminent tasting menu, I devoured several slices even before the amuse and continued to carboload throughout the long and substantial meal, putting the sourdough to work as a mop for sauces.
Much like the rest of his food, Johnsson’s bread is complexly flavored, expertly prepared and extremely digestible (the final observation is my digestion-obsessed Italian side talking). It was with great joy that I transported a loaf of his bread back to Rome, where I dedicated Saturday to whittling away slices thick and thin until only crumbs remained of the object of my devotion.
