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COOKING September 23, 2019
Supremely soft loaves from Japan redeem a childhood staple
By Kate Krader Photograph by Danny Kim
Got Milk Bread?
For anyone raised on
the packaged white
bread that lies around
on America’s super
market shelves for
unspecified amounts
of time, the concept
of Japanese milk bread
is both a dream and
an affront. Known as
shokupan, Japan’s stan
dard alabaster loaf resem
bles its U.S. counterpart in
generally being long and
cut into square slices. After
that, the similarity ends.
Shokupan is extraor
dinarily fluffy and sweet,
with a center that could
double as a cloud. The
best versions have a
bronzed, resilient crust
that adds a delicate tex
tural contrast. The origin
of milk bread is obscure,
but it’s believed to be based on a Chinese technique for mak
ing delicately sweet buns with a waterpaste starter—which
yields a similarly soft texture—that the Japanese adapted in
the 20th century. It became more popular after World War II
with the influx of American wheat amid rice shortages. The
dough is a combination of flour, milk, butter, and/or eggs and
has approximately seven times the fat of its American cousin.
There are even $270 toasters to ensure the perfect experience.
Another part of milk bread’s allure is the extravagant thick
ness of the slices. (Prepackaged sliced breads average around
halfaninch thick.) ChaAn Teahouse in Manhattan’s East
Village, which bakes about 60 loaves a day, serves 3inch
thick pieces for toasts with simple toppings such as smoked
salmon and two kinds of butter—red bean and miso—to gild
the richness. ChaAn’s bread is also key to the popularity of
the Japanese porksandosat neighboring HiCollar, one of the
most indemand sandwiches in New York City.
More than anything, it’s these sandos, the disarmingly
simplelooking snacks, that have helped jumpstart milk
bread’s popularity in
the U.S. Konbi in Los
Angeles became an
Instagram staple for its
egg saladfilled versions,
made with bread spe
cially commissioned from
the esteemed bakery Bub
and Grandma’s. Katana
Kitten, New York’s hot
Japanese pub, takes an
Italianinflected approach
with mortadellastuffed
bar bites. Thanks to
shokupan, white bread
sandwiches are as in
demand today as they
were in Queen Victoria’s
heyday. The bread is also
showing up at elite sushi
counters. At Shuko in
Greenwich Village, the
cakelike milk bread on
the $225 tasting menu
is almost better than the
bowl of toro tartare with caviar it accompanies.
But the ingredient is becoming most visible on non
Japanese menus. At Orsa & Winston in L.A., chef Josef Centeno
makes sandwiches—from porchetta to tuna niçoise to less con
ventional raspberries and mascarpone—with his homemade
loaves, while Carpenters Hall in Austin uses its milk bread in
a mean turkey club as a sort of highbrow Texas toast.
Chefs in San Francisco, sourdough’s spiritual home, have
particularly taken to shokupan for dishes that have a strong
American DNA. “It keeps its softness when it’s toasted, which
is perfect for sandwiches,” observes Sarah Rich, coowner
and cochef with her husband, Evan, of Michelinstarred Rich
Table. She uses it as the base for fried softshell crab po’ boys.
Prairie’s chef, Anthony Strong, likes it so much that it frames
his brunch service Impossible Burger and comes as a des
sert slathered with salted maple butter and Vermont maple
syrup. At the Progress, Stuart Brioza and Nicole Krasinski’s
newAmerican dining spot, milk bread stars in an offmenu riff
on the most American of dishes: a doublesmoked hot dog. <BW>
Light as a cloud,
with about seven
times the fat
of its American
equivalent
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