There are certain food cravings that arrive with a specific memory attached. Mine involves a plate of open sandwiches in a Scandinavian office canteen – dark rye bread, pickled herring, a scrape of butter, and the smell of caraway. I spent a significant part of my working life in Scandinavia, including Finland, and lunchtime smörgåsbord was one of the genuine pleasures of it.

Back in Monte Lope Álvarez, Vicente Gonzales at the Panadería-Pastelería Gonver — an award-winning baker and maker of excellent rústico, chapata and integral bread — didn't make rye bread when I first wrote this. He does now, and sourdough too if you order ahead. But there's something to be said for making your own, and this rye bread recipe has become the thing I reach for when the herring craving strikes.
So when Lidl stocks its occasional jars of Scandinavian-style pickled herrings, or when an IKEA visit brings home a bag of something Nordic, the craving arrives and this rye bread recipe gets made. It's a dense, chewy, deeply flavoured loaf that takes an afternoon and rewards the effort considerably.
Rye and Caraway — An Inevitable Pairing
Some flavour combinations feel accidental. Rye and caraway doesn't — it feels like it was always going to happen. The slightly bitter, earthy depth of rye flour and the warm, anise-adjacent flavour of caraway seed complement each other at a chemical level, each bringing out what the other does best. There are good sensory reasons why Northern and Eastern European bakers have been putting them together for centuries.
Caraway also aids digestion – which, given that rye bread is considerably denser than a standard white loaf, is a practical bonus as much as a culinary one.
I don't use caraway much elsewhere in my cooking. It's one of those ingredients that belongs so completely to one dish that using it anywhere else feels slightly wrong. This is its moment.
Rye Bread Recipe — The Method
Ingredients
- 200g rye flour, plus extra for dusting
- 100g strong white flour
- 100g wholemeal flour
- 7g fast-action dried yeast
- ½ tsp fine salt
- 1 tbsp runny honey
- 1 tsp caraway seeds, plus a few extra for sprinkling
- 250ml warm water, plus a little more if needed
Method
- Pour the warm water into a jug and stir in the honey until dissolved.
- Place all the dry ingredients — flours, yeast, salt, and caraway seeds — into a large mixing bowl. Pour in the liquid and mix to form a soft dough. Add a splash more warm water if needed — rye dough is naturally stiffer than a standard white loaf, but it should come together without crumbling.
- Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 10 minutes until smooth and pliable. Rye dough is less elastic than wheat dough — don't expect it to spring back in the same way. It will feel denser. That's correct.
- Place the dough in a well-oiled bowl, cover with cling film, and leave to rise in a warm place for 1–2 hours until roughly doubled in size.
- Lightly oil a 900g loaf tin. Knock back the dough with a brief knead, shape into an oval, and place in the tin. Cover again and leave to prove for a further hour or until doubled in size.
- Heat the oven to 220°C (200°C fan).
- Remove the cling film, dust the surface generously with rye flour, and make a few diagonal slashes across the top with a sharp knife. Scatter a few extra caraway seeds over the surface.
- Bake for 30 minutes until the crust is deeply coloured and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped on the base.
- Turn out onto a wire rack and leave to cool completely before slicing. Rye bread slices much better once fully cooled — patience here is rewarded.
What to Put on It — Three Nordic Open Sandwiches
This is why the rye bread recipe gets made. Cut the bread into slices – not too thin, rye doesn't cooperate with thin slices – and start with butter. Always butter. Then:
1. Pickled Herring with Dijon and Dill Seeds
A generous layer of Dijon mustard, a few pickled herring fillets, and a scattering of dill seeds. Fresh dill would be ideal but is virtually impossible to find in rural Andalucía — dill seeds do the job with a slightly more intense, less grassy flavour. This is the one that started all of this.
2. Pickled Herring with Red Onion and Capers
Thinly sliced red onion, a few capers, and the herring. The capers bring a sharp, briny note that cuts through the richness of the fish. Simple and exactly right.
3. Pickled Herring with Sliced Beetroot
The sweetness of the beetroot against the salty herring and the dark rye is a classic combination for good reason. Jarred beetroot works perfectly well — this is van and rural kitchen cooking, not a Copenhagen restaurant.
One loaf, one jar of Lidl herrings, and three open sandwiches. That's a very good lunch.
A Few Notes from the Casa Adora Kitchen
The flour: The flour combination gives this rye bread recipe a loaf that is dense and flavourful without being impenetrably heavy. Pure rye bread is a serious undertaking — this version is more approachable and still delivers everything you want from a rye loaf.
The honey: A tablespoon of runny honey balances the bitterness of the rye and helps the yeast along. Don't skip it.
The proving: Rye dough is slower to rise than white dough. Don't rush it. If your kitchen is cool — and in winter at Casa Adora it can be — extend the proving times accordingly. The dough will get there.
The cooling: One of the most important steps in this rye bread recipe — slice it too soon and the crumb will be gummy. Leave it to cool completely on the wire rack — at least an hour, ideally two. It's worth the wait.
The herrings: Lidl Spain stocks Scandinavian-style pickled herrings periodically rather than permanently. When they appear, buy two jars. You'll want to make this bread more than once.
This rye bread recipe keeps well wrapped for three to four days — it actually improves on the second day.
This rye bread recipe is part of my Bread Recipes collection. Wonky photos, proper bread, genuine adventures – The Flexible Chef.




