“Like all fruit breads, [Prune Bread] is moist and rather rich and sweet.”
-James Beard, Beard on Bread
The hardest part about making this bread was tracking down the ingredients. After searching high and low for prunes, I discovered that thanks to some sort of public relations decision, prunes are now referred to as “Dried Plums.” Next, I had to track down some sherry. Mike and I are not big drinkers, so I didn’t have any sherry lying around the house. I bought a bottle of sherry at the local liquor store that wasn’t ruinously expensive and popped the cork to see what it was all about. I’m not sure if it was just the brand I purchased or if all sherry is this intense, but I think that you could get tipsy just from sniffing the fumes. Well, I thought, this bread will certainly be interesting.
Here are the ingredients:
I diced the prunes and marinated them in sherry the night before. If I thought the fumes out the bottle were strong, that was nothing compared to sherry fumes that have been stewing in a closed container with prunes for 24 hours.
The preparation was simple: all I had to do was mix the ingredients together. Beard suggests using a round mold or souffle dish; since my souffle dish substitute (aka slow cooker liner) was busy cooking dinner, I just used a regular 9 x 5 loaf pan.
I set the timer for 50 minutes, but then didn’t hear it ring. When I finally realized I should probably check on the bread, it was a little over-browned.
Unfortunately, I don’t like the taste of Prune Bread at all. I don’t mind prunes. However, when chopped up, marinated in sherry, and baked into bread, prunes end up tasting like my food enemy, raisins. The sherry, as far I could tell from my one slice, contributed nothing to the loaf besides turning the prunes into raisin impostors. Mike is going to be eating this loaf.