Winter in southwest Montana. What does it mean to you? For many, it means the chance to recreate in our glorious mountains—skiing, sledding, snowshoeing, snowmobiling, hunting, skating, fat-tire biking, ice fishing. Maybe winter motivates you to hit the many wonderful hot springs options around Bozeman—Norris, Chico, Bozeman Hot Springs, and others. Or perhaps the shortened days and colder temperatures cause you to turn inward, become more introspective, more curious about slowing down, and find peace in nature.

There’s also the possibility that you turn into a crazed nester, leaning into the excuse for more time to cook and bake, as I do. In my house, not much beats a snowy Sunday with no agenda. I like to throw on some George Winston piano music while donning huge fuzzy socks and carrying my baby longhair black cat around like she’s a small fur scarf. The most important question of the day is, what are we going to cook?

Over the years, I’ve found foods that I cook specifically for certain moods, for certain weather, certain times of day, or certain cravings, using what I have on hand in the fridge. I’ve been known to cook out of nostalgia just as often, and the following soup is one of these. It transports me directly to the Windy Water Ranch, my grandparents’ home outside of Ennis while I was growing up, where my grandma “GranMary” made her one and only dish in the dark, soap-stone-tiled kitchen.

The soup is called Lobby, and it was passed down to GranMary by my great-grandmother “Gommy” (whose real name was Adah Saalfield). It’s an old English standby, so I like to think that Gommy in turn got it from her great-grandmother. We’ll never know, but according to Google, Lobby is “a traditional working-class meat and vegetable stew from the North Staffordshire and Lancashire regions of the UK,” with no single official recipe due to its history as a ‘throw-in’ dish using leftovers. The key ingredients generally include diced beef or lamb, potatoes, and various root vegetables.”

Sure enough—and that meat is diced just so, as edified by my dad here:

LOBBY

• Use 2 lbs. round steak. Cube it (probably about 3/4-inch cubes).

• Also cube a bunch (2 cups) of spuds, generally the same size (we like our food symmetrical).

• In enough cold water to fill a medium pot (3 quarts), boil the holy 
   crap out of the steak by itself for at least 2 hours—you want it
   falling apart, so to speak. *NOTE FOR MODERN TIMES: You could just
   throw your meat into a crock pot or an Instant Pot with some water
   or broth and walk away till it’s done.

• Then put in the spuds for about 45 - 60 minutes, till soft.

• As much salt and pepper as you can stand.

• Believe it or not, that’s it. You can always add more water or let it simmer down if it’s too brothy.

• Don’t let it boil.         

I like to add a bag of frozen peas and carrots, strictly for color. I also sometimes thicken it with tomato paste and flour, at which point it becomes a little less English. Indeed, my dad said that my stepmother always thought it was too bland, so he stopped making it. But I like the bland—it has a specific, soothing, inexplicable flavor, so even if you’re not English, I recommend trying Gommy’s recipe exactly as it is above.

GranMary served Lobby with coleslaw, which is not a food I admire. Therefore, I serve my Lobby with the following delicious bread, preferably straight out of the oven. Any fresh bread would be excellent with Lobby, but this recipe holds a special place in my heart because it’s one of the first breads I ever made, and I’ve been making it for 30 years. When I was in college, the aforementioned stepmother informed me that in the 1970s she had proudly baked her own bread, sewn her own clothes, and probably walked to work uphill both ways against the rotation of the earth.

In case you can’t tell, I took this as a personal challenge and decided to start baking my own bread, too. I loved to bake; why shouldn’t I save myself the money and preservatives and start making my own? I had a lot to learn about yeast, rising, room temperature, and elevation, but the experience turned out to be right up my alley. I went to the library and found a wonderful book from 1982, called The Book of Bread: The pleasures of breadbaking including uncomplicated techniques & 240 wonderful recipes both traditional and unique (whew), by Judith and Evan Jones. The following recipe became my go-to and remains so today:
HERB WHEAT BREAD

• Combine 1 tablespoon active dry yeast in a
   large bowl with 2 cups warm water; leave until 
   yeast swells

• Stir in 2 cups warm milk, 2 tablespoons sugar,
   1 tablespoon coarse salt or 2 teaspoons table salt

• Add herbs:

     - 3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

     - tablespoons chopped fresh basil or 1 tablespoon dried

     - tablespoon chopped fresh chives

     - teaspoon dried oregano

     - ½ teaspoon dried thyme leaves

*NOTE: My gardening days were still way ahead of me when I began making this bread, so at the time I used all dried herbs and none fresh. It’s delicious with either option.

• Stir in 3 cups white flour and 1 cup stone-ground whole wheat flour

• Mix well and beat with a wooden spoon for about a minute

   *NOTE FOR MODERN TIMES: Let a KitchenAid or a similar appliance do the beating for you.

• Turn the dough out on a floured surface and let rest while you clean and grease the bowl (or not – I skip this step)

• Knead the dough, working in as much extra white flour as necessary until the dough is smooth and shiny

• Return the dough to the bowl, turning to coat all over

• Cover with plastic wrap or a tea towel and let rise until doubled in bulk – about 1-1 ½ hours

• My favorite part: punch that dough down like you’re mad at it

• Turn dough out and knead about 1 minute

• Grease a shallow baking dish or cookie sheet

• Shape the dough into 1 large round or 2 smaller ones

• Let rise, covered, for 45 minutes

• Preheat the oven to 375 degrees

• Brush the top of the loaves with cold water when ready to put in the oven

• Bake 50-60 minutes and let cool on a rack 

This is an excellent combination for a cozy meal in the dead of winter. Ideally, you consume it in front of a crackling fire while fluffy white snowflakes slowly fall to the ground outside your window. But even if you can’t will this atmosphere, the smell of that herb bread baking will fill your house and soul with the definition of cozy, and the food will warm the cockles of your heart and belly.