When I took the “What nationality should you actually be?” quiz on Playbuzz and got “German”, I secretly believed it was true. Now anyone who knows me well knows that I am as un-German as one can get — not only do I have brown skin and dark eyes, I’m also perpetually late for everything. But every autumn in Melbourne, my fictional northern European roots emerge in the form of an intense craving for and obsession with dark rye bread. I’m not entirely sure how it all started, but when the weather drops below 20 degrees, I find myself in a bakery having a jovial conversation with the baker about the difference between a Schwarzbrot and a Borodinsky — all while wolfing down a thick slice of malty, aniseed-y goodness smothered in salted butter.
This year I decided to document this obsession and as a result, I probably have enough bread to last me through to next autumn. (The Husband asked if Jesus had been in our kitchen because it looked like someone had miraculously multiplied loaves of rye to feed the masses.) Here’s where I found the top baker’s dozen and how much I liked each of them.