Bridge rolls are the ultimate dinner rolls. It's what you get served with silver tongs by a tail-coated waiter, after he'd lovingly draped your cloth napkin over your knees.
Bread - a guilty pleasure?
White bread is a guilty pleasure. For a lot of us BREAD is a guilty pleasure too, but at least we can reassure ourselves that bakery goods that are wholemeal, contain bran or whole grains, plenty of seeds and are made from coarse and unbleached flour are the lesser evil.
Soft dinner rolls - the guiltiest pleasure
But every now and then we get a craving for something fluffy and soft, rich and almost brioche-like. Something to go with a really velvety carrot or tomato soup, or with delicate pate, or lovely ham and a slice of cheese and some pickles. And why on Earth should we not if it’s only now and then?
Bridge rolls - fluffy, soft and rich
This is exactly the thing: fluffy and light, with smooth thin crust, soft and spongy, buttery and rich. They are called bridge rolls because they rise and bake to stick to one another, side by side. But just in case you won’t manage to achieve the bridging factor, they can also be called finger rolls and that accommodates the potential shape failure.
Not sourdough but I like it
They are on the other end of the bread spectrum from earthy, sensible sourdough which ferments to gain flavour. Bridge rolls cheat: they have eggs, milk and butter as aides but on the plus side, they are ready within a couple of hours.
How to serve bridge rolls?
You can make them a bit bigger if you like, or smaller than below and they’ll be dainty, soft, lovely and rewarding. They’ll happily make ham and cheese rolls. They can take on bacon and tomato.
Fantastic lobster rolls, or failing that, some cooked fresh prawns, a little mayo, a dot of ketchup, a slice or two of cucumber. They’ll go with soup. With butter and jam. Made into a bread pudding in the unlikely situation where you have some going slightly stale.
It’s a recipe adapted from ‘Bread Machine Kitchen Handbook’ by Jennie Shapter.