Hot Cross Buns

A few years ago I was visiting Prague with a friend. The Czech Republic was the second to the last leg of our month-long backpacking trip through Europe and, by the time we arrived, we were harried and overwrought. Early mornings and late nights for weeks on end had left us exhausted to tears, but there was a whole world to see so we couldn't justify waking up later than eight in the morning.

We saw castles and churches. We walked the city in every direction with a tour guide who would certainly win the gold medal in speed walking. Yet, I remember very little of what we learned and, without the photographs as proof where I'd been, I'm not sure I'd remember even that.

There is, however, one thing about Prague I will not ever forget.

It happened while my friend and I were walking back to the hostel the next night, after a wasted day of blissfully napping in public parks and eating sausage. Rounding a corner on a small, cobblestone street, I came across a sight I will certainly never see again. We passed a man.

Then, two. Then, three.

Looking ahead, we both stopped dead in our tracks, dumbfounded. It was as if every eligible bachelor within a few years of my age was walking down this particular street at precisely the same time. There were at least one hundred men. A quiet congregation, there was no clear message as to who they were or where they were going.

I stood, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, in the center of the street. One hundred men were there, it seemed, just for me.

It took quite some time after the last of the men had rounded the corner before my friend and I could regain control over ourselves. We looked at each other in disbelief. I wondered aloud if that had really just happened, wanting to pinch myself as if I were in a dream. I wanted to follow them back around the corner to verify they were real and not a fantastic hallucination. Though we hadn't been searching, we had unwittingly found all of the men.

To this day, their presence and purpose remains a mystery. A truly unusual life moment, I can't help but want to dig deeper, to find meaning (though there certainly will never be one). It was Prague's beautiful gift to me, as if it knew that I needed a reason to remember the city outside of my photographs.

Though these hot cross buns may not be as unforgettable as a parade of men, they surprised me. I knew of hot cross buns for as long as I can remember—from nursery rhymes and grocery store shelves—but I never foresaw they would taste this good. As a baker, I love to get caught off guard by something unexpected and these did just the trick.

These Hot Cross Buns are soft and sweet. I used the base from my honey rolls, opting for milk instead of water to create a more tender bread. Sweetened with honey, a hint of orange, and a handful of raisins, these buns are surprisingly remarkable. Though sacrilege in some circles, I used a cream cheese icing to make the traditional crosses simply because I think the tartness of the cheese complements the sweetness of the bread better. Make these rolls for those you love—it's far too easy to eat more than your fair share in one sitting.

Click to read more ...

Cranberry Orange Brioche Rolls

As the late, great Douglas Adams once said, "I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."

These past couple weeks have been all about meeting deadlines for me. In the next few days, all of my little side projects and work deadlines converge. I've done little else but stress over deadlines in the last week, frantically working as fast as my hands and mind will allow. After working for what feels like non-stop for far too long, I feel like there is little left of me to go around.

Yet, as I'm sure many of you know, the show must go on.

My brain currently feels a bit like jello, wobbly and unsure of its balance. I've fallen asleep in front of the computer twice, albeit briefly. And I think if I have to edit one more photograph, I might just lose my mind.

When I'm under a lot of stress, I tend to stress eat (I know, it's bad and I shouldn't, but I can't seem to help myself). It's not that I'm even eating junk food. All my food groups are present and in balance. I just sit in front of the table eating much more than I should because every minute I'm there is one minute I don't have to spend working, never mind the fact that the work will have to get done whether I eat more or not.

Logic doesn't always make sense to a stress addled brain.

Nevertheless, this weekend I took some time out of my schedule to make these rolls. Bread, whether you realize it or not, is one of the perfect foods to make when you are home, but busy working on projects or chores. It requires a few minutes of attention every couple hours (a welcome distraction when you need a bit of a break) and, at the end of the day, there is something piping hot coming out of the oven to feed your tired soul.

I know I said that chocolate makes the world go 'round but, after warming up a leftover bun for my dinner, I think these rolls might too, in a more subtle way.

These Cranberry Orange Brioche Rolls are delicate, rich, buttery rolls with plenty of flavor. Sweetened with honey, the rolls are contrasted with tart cranberries and a hint of orange zest. These rolls would make an elegant holiday breakfast to serve overnight guests, or perfect to keep as a secret all to yourself. Serve warm with a small pat of butter, if desired, but they are just as delicious plain. Dried cranberries may also be substituted for the fresh cranberries if your tastes would prefer.

Click to read more ...

Chocolate Filled Buns

Today I spent a good long while searching for a particular book on clay sculpting. It was in my closet (which could very well be compared to a black hole. Once something goes in, it never comes out). I have several boxes in my closet marked "Random Keepsakes," which had been packed away long before I set off for college. I had an inkling what I was searching for would be in there, somewhere, even though I had little idea what any of the boxes held. There was nothing I could do but dig in and see where it would take me.

Opening boxes from the past is like opening a can of worms. The good, the bad, the ugly, the silly embarrassing moments I'd forgotten about were all staring me in the face. This is me, summed up through years of diaries, rock collections, and the random objects I thought important enough to save. Like it or not (embarrassed or not), the only choice I had was to embrace it.

Among my findings was a small notebook where every page, every line, was filled with tiny little scribbles—proof of my desperate desire to prove to my mother that I could write in cursive despite the fact that I could barely print my own name. A photography album was filled with my first roll of film in which I managed to cut off the head of every single person in the album. I like to think of it as a highly artistic concept for a seven year old instead of the fact that I couldn't aim if my life depended on it. I also kept a diary for two whole days, which displays the drama and angst of my 10 year old self quite well. In fact, it's too good not to share with you.

The first page says "Goal: to write every day" (obviously I was not so good at following through on that one).

April 3rd, 2000
Dear Diary,
Today I lost my shoe. Mom yelled a LOT. Still not found. My favorite shoe with the black yellow stripes. Social studies test tomorrow. Tonight had to go to a self-defense course. Boring!

April 4th, 2000
Dear Diary,
Today I search for my shoe and I still can't find it. Test went well. Kickball was horrible. Only me and Amanda and the rest were boys. Ugh! I played outside for hours. Still aren't use to daylight savings time.

While some questions remain unanswered (how did I lose that shoe when it was supposed to be on my foot? Did I honestly not notice?), the truth tends to remain. At 10 years old I still thought boys had cooties, I was up in arms about what my favorite shoe actually looked like, and maybe (even still) it does take me a few days to adjust to daylight savings.

Digging into the past has always been an interesting event for me, even if what I find is humiliating or uncomfortable. It always strikes a strong nostalgic chord, showing me a little bit of who I am as well as how far I've come. And thank goodness I've come a long, long ways.

These Chocolate Filled Buns are sweet and rich. I took the basic bread recipe from my Honey Rolls, sweetened up the dough with a bit of sugar and orange zest, and added one of my vices—chocolate. The buns look savory until you take a bite. Your taste buds will instead be greeted with subtle orange flavors and rich, melted chocolate (and who wouldn't like that surprise?). These are quite simple to make for a yeasted dough and the well worth the effort.

Click to read more ...