On Batch Bread

What does my bread say?

Ireland’s love affair with bread runs deep, but for much of history the island lacked the hard wheat needed for leavened white loaves. Native wheat was low in gluten, so early breads were usually flat oat or barley cakes (See my History of Irish Baking). True white bread was a luxury until the Normans introduced finer milling sieves around the 11th century, allowing bran to be sifted out and “white bread” to be made for the wealthy. Medieval cities like Dublin fostered professional baking: the first Bakers’ Guild charter was granted in 1478, and by the 19th century many “journeyman” bakers roamed the country to ply their trade.

In the early 1800s, people still relied on simpler breads. Baking soda (bicarbonate) became available from the 1830s and soda bread rapidly took hold in rural Ireland since it was quick, required no yeast, and suited the softer Irish flour. Yeast-raised bread, however, did not simply disappear in Ireland. Urban bakeries continued the practice of fermenting dough with barm (yeasty froth from brewing) or sourdough starters until the arrival of commercial baker’s yeast from around the 1880s. When the Industrial Revolution hit, improved mills and baking equipment enabled bread to be produced on a larger scale than ever before. By the mid-19th century, batch loaf bread, along with a variant called turnover in Dublin was rising in popularity as a daily staple.

The Irish were beginning to have their daily bread.

Batch bread (also known as the batch loaf) is a style of yeast bread traditionally baked as multiple loaves together in one batch. Instead of each loaf being in its own pan, the dough portions are placed side by side on the oven floor or a large tray, often touching each other. As they expand and bake, the loaves fuse slightly and must be pulled apart after baking.

Hence the name batch.

In official terms, batch bread is bread “which is not baked in containers and is sold in loaves of which the outside is not all crust” (S.I. No. 183/1952 - Bread (Prices) Order, 1952). In other words, the sides of a batch loaf remain pale and soft where they pressed against their neighbours, unlike a free-standing loaf that develops a crust all around.

This method yields a distinctive loaf. A traditional batch loaf has a dark, almost blackened crust on the top and bottom, but no crust on its sides. The high heat of a brick oven (or later, a deck oven) would “fire” the top and bottom of each loaf, while the adjoining sides stayed soft. When pulled apart, a batch bread shows stark white sides and a square or rectangular profile. Early 20th-century descriptions note the “dark, well-fired crust” of a batch loaf and its protected, pale sides.

This baking style was long the norm for everyday bread in Ireland and surrounding regions. It was once the more widely available style of loaf before the modern pan loaf became ubiquitous.

By the 1980s, this tradition had reversed. Batch had become the non-ubiquitous bread on supermarket, grocery, and bakery shelves.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s get back to the beginning of Batch bread.

To comply with 19th-century bread laws, bakers usually sold them in standardized weights, typically 2 lb or 4 lb loaves (half-quartern and quartern loaves) which were considered plain bread and regulated in price. These crusty, floury big loaves would be brought home whole and sliced as needed. Older generations recall the daily routine of buying a fresh batch loaf, often still warm, from the local bakery or delivery van each morning. Because batch bread stales faster once cut (owing to its limited crust), it was customary to consume it the same day or toast it the next day, leading to cherished traditions like thick slices toasted under the grill (often on one side only, as many Dubliners preferred) and slathered with butter for supper.

The heel of the bread was cherished. Toasted on one side and buttered heavily.

Delicious.

By the late 1800s, the batch loaf had firmly established itself as the everyday bread of the Irish table, especially in towns and cities. Government bread acts classified it as plain bread: the basic, no-frills bread of the Irish masses.

In Scotland and Ireland alike, batch-baked plain loaves dominated output in small and large bakeries. Scottish sources note that plain batch bread accounted for 75% of all bread sold in Scotland (up to 90% in Glasgow) by the early 20th century, whereas fancier pan loaves were rare.

A similar pattern held in Ireland. The batch loaf was the workhorse loaf for workers and families, while pan loaves, baked in a tin, with crust on all sides, were initially considered something of a luxury. In fact, in the UK a pan loaf was associated with aspiring to gentility. Indeed, in Scotland it was deemed a fancy loaf, more expensive to produce, whereas the plain batch loaf was the standard daily bread. This social distinction even gave rise to the term “pan-loaf” accent to mock someone putting on airs in their speech.

Try saying that in your best Scottish accent, with a few expletives, of course.

Naturally.

In Ireland, the batch loaf transcended class to become a national staple. It appears frequently in literature and historical accounts of Irish life. For example, in The Book of Bread (1903), Baker Owen Simmons includes an “Irish batch (plain or turnover) loaf” as a prize-winning exhibit at a London bread show, underscoring that the style was recognizably Irish.

Bakeries across Ireland produced batch bread in great quantities each night, to be delivered fresh each morning to homes and shops for the breakfast table. Many people relied on these deliveries, a cultural touchstone even in recent times (famously, during a 2018 snowstorm dubbed “Breadageddon,” Irish shoppers frantically bought up all the bread, reflecting the deep-seated habit of having daily bread on hand.

Nothing like a storm to remind us of who we really are.

It is always the rain that reveals us.

Within Ireland, certain regional variations and nicknames for batch bread arose. In Dublin, the classic batch loaf was often called a “turnover” loaf, or sometimes “grinder,” “lump,” or “twist.” These terms refer to the same idea (a large batch-baked loaf) and were in common use for decades.

A 1952 government order on bread pricing even had to define these synonyms: “turnover” meant batch bread commonly known as turnover, grinder, carrick or lump bread.

The term “turnover” alludes to a particular shaping or handling of the dough. Some Dublin bakers would flip or turn over the loaf during baking for an even crust. Whatever the origin, the Dublin turnover became famous as a crusty loaf often enjoyed with coddle or stew.

Meanwhile, in the south-east, Waterford developed its own twist on batch baking with the Waterford blaa, a soft white roll baked in batches (the blaas stick together in the oven much like mini batch loaves). This dates to the 17th century and the Huguenots and shows how the batch technique permeated different Irish bread styles.

In earlier times, traditional home baking of yeast bread was limited by equipment and ingredients. Rural cottages without ovens mainly made griddle breads (soda farls, etc.), while large batch loaves were typically the domain of commercial bakeries. Still, some home cooks did tackle yeast loaves, often using cast-iron bastible pots inside the hearth or makeshift brick ovens.

Older cookbooks sometimes included recipes for batch loaf, suggesting that by the 20th century home bakers had started recreating this bakery staple on a smaller scale. They would proof a dense dough, then divide it into two or four pieces and place them together in a high-sided tin to simulate the bakery batch. Early recipes also often called for brushing the dough with fat, such as beef drippings, to promote a soft side crust and easy separation after baking.

On the commercial side, batch bread baking was a nightly ritual in towns and cities. Through the 19th and early 20th centuries, master bakers still relied on long fermentation and craft methods despite the advent of machinery. In Scotland, for example, bakers developed a 14–16 hour fermentation schedule with barm, mixing dough in the evening, letting it ferment slowly (and conveniently avoiding Sunday work), then baking first thing Monday.

Irish bakeries followed similar practices.

Dough would often be mixed with a portion of fermented sponge dough reserved from the previous batch, yielding a more complex flavour. Large wood-fired or coal-fired ovens (and later, steam deck ovens) were used. Bakers commonly loaded batch loaves onto the oven sole with a long peel, arranging them in rows that would quickly kiss together as they rose. Some bakeries used wooden frames or iron boxes to corral the loaves into shape as they baked for instance, loaves might be packed 3x3 in a square frame, resulting in a classic batch of nine:

Irish Batch bread is baked […] in a batch, all together, where the inside loaves have no outer crust. The tin used to bake batch bread has a high wooden frame surround to support the loaves during proof and bake. Following the moulding of the Batch loaves, they are pinned by pushing a floured finger into the top and pressing all the way to the bottom of the loaf. This action gives stability and uniformity to the loaves as they rise in proof and bake (arrow.tudublin.ie).

A 1930s account from Scotland describes an iron tray holding a batch of plain loaves, with only the loaves on the end getting a side crust from touching the metal side of the tray. Most loaves, shielded by their neighbors, emerged with white, floury sides, which were a defining feature of batch bread’s appearance.

By the mid-20th century, mechanization had increased, but many batch bread techniques remained surprisingly old-fashioned. In 1960s Ireland, bakeries like Boland’s, Johnston Mooney & O’Brien, and others in Dublin still employed teams of men to hand-mould the dough and tend the ovens through the night. Photographs from around 1910–1920 (for example, a 1917 image of a Glasgow bakery) show rows of bakers lifting batches of plain loaves from massive brick ovens with long paddles. The scene would have been similar in Irish bakeries of the period. Each loaf was scored on top (often a single slash or cross) and placed in tight formation to bake.

Notably, steam and ranks ovens were often used for batch bread to get that well-fired crust. Bakers prized a rich, slightly smoky crust flavor known locally as “the nutty crust”. This term was so popular that a Northern Irish bakery later adopted it as a product name.

The bottoms of batch loaves could get very dark from the hot sole of the oven, sometimes even requiring trimming of very charred bits before sale. One could often tell a good batch loaf by a sooty, burnished bottom crust that contributed loads of flavor.

As you may have already surmised, the batch loaf tradition has links beyond the republic of Ireland. In Northern Ireland (technically part of the UK), batch or plain bread has long been a staple as well.

Many Ulster bakeries were founded in the late 19th and early 20th centuries on the strength of their plain bread. Perhaps the most famous is Irwin’s Bakery in Portadown (est. 1912). Irwin’s launched their Nutty Krust plain batch loaf in 1965, and it went on to become one of Northern Ireland’s most popular grocery products.

Nutty Krust is a classic batch bread: slow-fermented, hand-shaped, and baked as a conjoined batch to yield a soft, dense crumb and chewy crust. Its enduring popularity in Northern Ireland underscores how central batch bread remains to Ulster’s food culture. Even today, Irwin’s still uses a 100+ year-old sponge dough method and an 18-hour fermentation for Nutty Krust, baking the loaves on the sole of the oven to get that signature crust. The result is a resilient loaf that locals swear makes the best toast. Northern Irish grocery shelves still stock plenty of batch loaves (often labeled plain or batch); and in true local fashion, the end crusts of the loaf (called the heels) are especially coveted by some for their extra chew.

Across the water in Scotland, the batch loaf is equally iconic. Scotland’s “plain bread” is the same product, a tall and narrow loaf with two crunchy crusts and white side It became so ingrained in Scottish life that by the early 20th century people identified as either “plain bread eaters” or “pan bread eaters.” The vast majority were plain-bread folk, as upwards of 3 out of 4 loaves sold were batch/plain.

Scottish plain loaves were traditionally made with imported high-gluten flour (since native Scottish wheat was poor for bread) and a very long fermentation using barm, giving a distinct tang. The loaves were baked in batches in cast-iron boxes or frames, yielding what English observers dubbed the “Scotch square” loaf. In Scotland, the end pieces with extra crust were called “enders” and were often sold at a slight discount because many customers preferred the soft middle pieces.

During World War II, this preference caused a crisis, unsold end pieces led to bread waste in Scotland until the government appealed to housewives to buy the “enders” too. Such was the strength of the plain loaf tradition in Scottish communities.

It’s worth noting that cultural exchange between Scotland and the north of Ireland likely reinforced the batch bread habit. Scots-Irish settlers in Ulster in past centuries would have baked similar breads. To this day, the plain loaf is a point of regional pride in both Belfast and Glasgow.

Through the mid-20th century, batch bread in Ireland gradually met its rival: the sliced pan loaf. As consumer preferences and technology changed, the classic batch loaf lost some ground to the more uniform pan bread, which was baked in lidded tins and pre-sliced, with a soft crust all around).

By the 1960s, large bakeries and supermarket brands were promoting pan bread as a modern convenience: crusts and all. The batch loaf never vanished, but it became one of two main styles, often marketed with a nostalgic twist. An Irish government order from 1952 explicitly distinguished between “batch bread” and “sliced pan loaves sold in wrappers,” treating them as separate categories. This indicates that by the early 1950s, wrapped pan bread had arrived, but batch bread was still common enough to warrant its own price regulation.

In the 1970s and 1980s, several famous Irish bakeries ran advertising campaigns centered on their batch bread, trying to maintain its appeal in the age of sliced pan. Boland’s Bakery, for example, used the slogan “Boland’s – Best of the Batch” in the 1970s, even touting their new see-through packaging for batch bread.

The imagery of a floury batch loaf remained a powerful symbol of homely quality. Likewise, Brennan’s Bread, which became Ireland’s best-known bread brand after its founding in 1978 (the year I was born), continues to produce a “Brennan’s Family Batch” loaf alongside its standard pans. Many Irish people recall the jingle “If you want a good loaf, Brennan’s for the batch!” from radio and TV ads in the early 1980s.

In Northern Ireland, Irwin’s Nutty Krust and other batch brands kept their place on breakfast tables despite the onslaught of pan loaves. In fact, some unique products emerged that blended the batch style with modern convenience, such as Veda bread (I never this growing up, but it was popular up North) and batch-baked baps and rolls for sandwiches.

By the turn of the 21st century, Ireland’s bread market was dominated by plant-bakeries turning out sliced pans, but the batch loaf had secured a beloved niche. Many bakeries began labeling their batch bread as “Traditional Batch” or “Irish Batch Loaf,” emphasizing the heritage of the method of baking the loaf. Stafford’s Batch loaf, available in many supermarkets in Ireland is produced in the traditional method since the 1950s. Though many craft bakeries have turned towards sourdough in the last number of years, it would be worthwhile reminding the many young hipster bakers in Ireland that before sourdough was trendy, batch bread was ‘our’ sourdough.

Beyond its physical qualities, batch bread holds a special place in Irish life and memory. It was more than just food, more than just a bread. It was tied up with daily routines, social class, and even language.

Words have always mattered to the Irish, even in another's language.

In working-class Dublin, to have “bread and pull it” meant you had simple sustenance (often bread and tea) to share with friends. A thickly cut doorstep sandwich of batch bread with butter and crisps inside. Our famous crisp sandwich is a cherished Irish comfort food, only truly satisfying when made with a soft batch loaf.

Loads of butter, loads of crisps.

Cheese and onion only, please.

In pubs like John Fallon’s in Dublin, the toasted batch bread ham and cheese toastie is legendary.

Batch bread evokes nostalgia for many Irish people. The sight and smell of a floury batch loaf can trigger childhood memories of grandparents, parents, and simpler times. For me, batch bread will always take me back to lazy weekends in Rail Park, Maynooth in the 1980s, where the bread was fried in lard or toasted on one side and slathered with butter.

The old crunch and chew.

I remember being sent to the shop across the road on many a weekend morning to get a loaf of fresh Batch bread.

We couldn't be eating yesterday's bread.

We were modern, after all.

Today, the batch loaf enjoys something of a small revival amid the broader artisanal bread movement. Though mass production of true batch bread has dwindled (with only a few factories still doing large-scale batch baking, some boutique bakeries are reintroducing it as a specialty. They advertise the long fermentation and old-style crust as a selling point, much as craft bakers elsewhere tout sourdough as some kind of elixir of life.

Irish batch bread is a product of history and necessity that evolved into a cultural signifier of wholeness and heritage. From the early guild bakers who fed city populations, through the industrial age when batch loaves were truly the daily bread of Irish households, to its survival in the era of plastic-wrapped sliced pans, the batch loaf has proven resilient: a semiotic slice of lrish life.

Batch bread connects Ireland to its neighbours, sharing traits with Scotland’s plain loaf and even echoing the baking methods of ancient communal ovens. It also connects generations: it is the loaf that my great-grandmother would recognize, still gracing breakfast tables today. As one 1970s ad proclaimed, it really is “the best of the batch.” And when slathered in butter with a hot cup of tea, there are few things that taste more like Ireland.

That’s what my bread says.

What does yours says?