Disappearing Rose Bread

Every October, some dear friends of mine host a cider pressing party.  They rent a wooden press (or two), raid everyone's backyard for windfalls, and ask in return that guests bring containers for cider, a willingness to work, and a treat to share.

Even though the event starts at lunchtime, the treat table is usually overrun with sweets.  Because the event happens so close to Halloween, there are bowls of candy, cupcakes topped with gravestones, and pumpkin-flavored breads and cookies.  When washing, tossing, and cranking apples into fresh sweet cider, it's good to have more than a sugar rush to keep you moving.  Every year I am determined to bring something savory and filling.

I had been eyeing this beauty for awhile:  Russian Rose Bread (adapted from this recipe).  Filled with pesto, gloriously arranged, this bread seemed to me an impossible goal.  Thankfully, the recipe has step-by-step picture instructions to make it approachable.  After four hours of mixing, kneading, rising, and assembling, I had this to show for my efforts:

Russian Rose Bread filled with Pesto

I held my creation on my lap for the car ride to the party.  When I brought the bread out of its foil covering, I was both proud to show it off and immediately protective of it.  How could I dare cut into it?  How could I let anyone else cut into it?  Thankfully, my desire to taste it won out.

Ten minutes after the first slice was made, I was left with this:

I now call it Disappearing Rose Bread.  And it is delicious.