I’m not sure if it’s because I was raised in the U.K. or because I was raised in a Turkish household, but I grew up with a bread bin in my kitchen. The Hovis loaves my mum would get us for our lunch boxes would easily mold, and the Turkish pide we’d get every two days would go staler by the hour, so a bread bin was a must.
In the U.S., it turns out, no one really owns a bread bin. They call it a bread box, which I guess makes more sense. And outside of home bakers or those with generous counter space, it seems bread bins don’t ever cross people’s minds. The main reason is probably because sickly sweet, preservative-laden American bread doesn’t need it, given that it’s designed to go bad by, well… who knows? But although I accepted putting my eggs in the fridge and acquiesced to my setting oven temperatures in Fahrenheit instead of Celsius, I stood firm in my love for the bread bin. And after buying my own, I’m even more convinced that everyone should have one.
Along with storing bread, the bread bin keeps things tidy. If, like me, you love to have a wide array of carbs to pick from and hate how nuts your countertop looks with the plastic packaging for flour tortillas, rye, English muffins, and bagels all thrown on top of each other, simply put them in a bread bin.
To anyone who bakes their own sourdough, congrats — and make sure you get yourself a bread bin because you absolutely need one for your loaves. The dark and dry interior of the bin will protect your baked efforts from a quick death allowing you to savor them for a little longer.
All baked goods are fair game. Keep your cookies, banana bread, challah, or cupcakes fresher and moister. A bread bin is much more practical than a cake stand, which is a compliment-fishing device on a regular day, but in quarantine where house guests are at a minimum, who cares? Protect the cake from the sun in your bread bin. If you aren’t that keen on carbs, but you’d like to have a mini pantry to store certain things, like tomatoes or bananas, the bread bin has you covered; and when winter rolls around, hard cheeses can find a new home, too. How European! (You’re welcome.)
The best part of buying a bread bin is that there are a ranged of styles to suit your kitchen and your mood. You can go futuristic silver with a roll-top or lidded, retro situation. I personally went for a bamboo wood style with a sturdy flap because it reminds me of the one at my house back home. It’s the little things.
So, long live the bread bin — sorry — box, and if anyone knows where I can get Hovis in New York, please let me know.