Funny how it’s been exactly a year since we made our Stollen-2020. Maybe it sounds weird, but I began my Stollen chronicles in 2013, and kept them going ever since: it gives me that soothing feeling of luxury (ugh, I must stay away from using hygge as the most suitable word for such things) and necessary festive cosiness.
The drill is the same, however: L. and I prepare all the ingredients on the table (true enough, I arranged them in a slightly nicer way for taking photos, but the real picture is not very far from this one), then we mix, and grind, and mix again, and pour the fabulous liquids (the dark rum, that is) and knead (L.’s job), and then wait an hour or two when the goodness happens: the Stollen enters its pre-existing phase. Then L. cuts the puffy and lovely aromatic dough into two pieces and rolls the marzipan in: we are at this stage now, waiting a bit nervously until it will rise double in size. And then, the hot oven will be opened, and the evening will be full of that unmistakable scent of upcoming festivities, which will happen against all the odds.
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