When I saw our dear Pille's recipe for Vastlakuklid (Estonian Lenten Buns I knew I had to make them. Rich, tender and flavoured with cardamom, how could I not make them?
Well, that was three or four years ago.
Just before each subsequent Easter I have every hope and intention of making her perfect buns. But then...well...I forget. Yes, even though I can recall many conversations word-for-word (ask any of the men I used to go out with), at times I cannot keep a simple, seasonal foodish intention in my mind long enough to follow it through to fruition.
It was almost the same story again this year. Almost.
Long after I declared my Lenten promise a disasterous foray into self-improvement, I remembered the buns. Those lovely, cream and jam-filled buns. Well, if I can't actually get around to 100 pages of pleasure reading every day during Lent, I can get these buns done. Yeah, it was probably safest for those around me that I not give up chocolate, caffeine or anything that keeps my few shreds of sanity firmly within my possession.
Since it's Easter, I also decided to use some of the dough and revisit the bunny-shaped bread I made a few years ago. I mean, how perfect would it be to make a Lenten bread in the shape of a cute little Easter bunny? Well...
In that last rise, my lovely little bunnies took on lives of their own and turned into...edible instances Gestalt figure-ground principle (yes, those pictures that could be interpreted in more than one way, like the old woman-young woman picture).
Except my tray produced what some people would call bunnies...while other would see...I don't know...a toucan, a little lamb with a bow, a tap-dancing Barney, a mollusc, a duckie...some sort of leaping Pokemon character.This isn't the first time my yeasted goods have taken on some sort of figurative bent. Based on this, I'm sure I can come up with some sort of side business as a baker-teacher-cum-therapist: I teach people how to make delicious yeasted breads and when the treats are done, analyse the buns (or doughnuts) to help them lead a happier and less neurotic life...and one filled with tasty, tasty buns.I'm late in making these (I hope Pille will understand)--they are traditionally eaten the day before Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, much like pancakes are eaten here in Canada. These buns are easy to make have a light cardamom flavour. Split them open and fill them with sweetened jammy cream, jam (apricot, lingonberry or blueberry would work nicely), orange curd or even marzipan. 
Vastlakuklid: Estonian lenten buns
adapted from Pille of Nami-Nami's Vastlakuklid: Estonian lenten buns
Yield 12 buns
250ml (1c) hand-hot milk
6g (1.75tsp) dry yeast
400g (3c less 2.5Tbsp) ap flour
0.5 tsp salt
0.5 tsp ground cardamom (seeds from 4 pods)
100g (0.5c less 1Tbsp) butter, melted and cool
1 egg, lightly beaten cream or lightly beaten egg (optional)
Dissolve the yeast into the milk. Stir in approximately half the flour until fully incorporated. Cover with cling and let double in volume in a warm, draft-free place (about an hour).
Combine salt, cardamom and the rest of the flour and add to the yeasty mixture. Add the butter and the egg and mix well. Turn out to a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, but not tacky.
Return to proving bowl, cover and let double in size.
Preheat oven to 200C/400F; line a baking tray with parchment paper.
Punch down and divide into 12 pieces. Roll the pieces into balls, and place on lined baking tin. Let rise for about 30 minutes or until the buns have doubled in size.
Brush on cream or beaten egg and bake for 15-20 minutes or until golden. Remove from oven and cover with a teatowel while cooling.
Split the buns and fill with sweetened or flavoured cream, jam, curd or marzipan.cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!
I am horrible at this Facebook thing. I resisted getting an account for ages--my friends know where I am (and if they don't I'm easily found), and I know where they are; between work, this blog and my Twitter account I spend enough of my life staring into an illuminated screen, tapping madly away at a well-worn keyboard; my innate distrust of social networking sites and the horrid marketers that lurk within.But I have an account, mostly neglected. Like many other social networking sites I'm on, I can go ages without logging in. Often when I do, it's only to respond to a note or a friend request. Also when I do, I'm amazed at all the names the system suggests I connect with. Take today for example. As I type, the Unseen Facebook Overlords suggest I should connect with 27 people. Normal, I suppose. The thing is, I only recognise two of them. The rest? I haven't a clue. I imagine some of them to have some sort of connection to the people I've accepted as friends on the site...I also imagine some of them to be the equivalent of eHarmony matches...you know the highly questionable ones that only seem to be compatable because they match your gender preferences and nothing else...but in Facebookland they show up because they have a profile and you have a profile. When I remove someone from the list because there is no connection whatsoever, they are replaced with someone else...also with whom there is no connection whatsoever. Bizarre.But I do check in when I get a note. And it's one of these notes that led to today's recipe. A friend asked if I had a quiche recipe that used spinach, mushrooms and tomatoes--her latest attempt didn't appeal. Hmmm....I had a tomato tart recipe and a spinach quiche recipe, so I took this as an opportunity to play in my kitchen (as if I really need to be prompted to do that) and developed this recipe.I didn't know whether to call this a quiche or a tart. I see quiches as bits suspended in eggy cream, whereas here eggy cream binds together the spinach and mushrooms. Not wanting the quiche police (I'm sure they exist, with a rule book filled with yolk to cheese ratios) after me, I went the safer route and christened it a tart. There aren't any real tricks to this recipe, but I will say quickly zapping the cream cheese into an oozy puddle does make easy work of mixing it into the milk and eggs. The tart itself is subtantial, but not heavy and pairs well with a small bowl of soup or a leafy salad.
Spinach, Mushroom and Tomato Tart
Makes one 20cm/8" tart
fat for frying (olive oil, butter, canola, bacon fat)
90g (0.75c) mushrooms, sliced
salt
pepper
1 shallot, minced
1 garlic cloves, minced
300g (10oz) (1 pkg) frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained
100g (3.5oz) cream cheese, softened
125ml (0.5c) full fat milk 1 Tbsp dijon mustard
a good pinch of dried thyme (0.25-0.5tsp)
2 eggs
1 prebaked pie shell
1-2 tomatoes, thinly sliced
Preheat oven to 200C/400F.
Sauté mushrooms, with pinches of salt and pepper, until soft. Add the shallots and stir until translucent. Add the garlic. When they release their scent, add the spinach and sauté for a few minutes. Take off the hob to cool.
Whisk the softened cream cheese, milk, mustard and eggs together until smooth. Add salt, pepper and thyme and mix well. Stir in the spinach mixture.
Pour into pie shell and top with sliced tomatoes and sprinkle, if you wish, with black pepper. Bake for 25-35 minutes or until the eggs have set.
Cool on a wire rack; serve warm.
cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!
If I had my camera with me the look would have been captured for all to see.Not just any look, but the silent glare that simply says "Must you speak so loudly, human?"
No, I didn't get that look from someone wearing a green beer stained "Kiss me I'm Irish" T-shirt.
I got it from my cat. On the floor, a few feet away from Hagia, two items told a story: to the left were cupcake wrappers, traces of Irish cream glaze left clinging to the paper; to the right, a puddle of cat barf. Hmmm...I've been here before...sort of. Instead of being helped by My Dear Little Cardamummy down the distilled path of wobbliness, they apparently showed great initiative and helped themselves to discarded cupcake liners from the trash. Well, they say drunks and other addicts will stop at nothing to get their fix.Hagia has very...refined...tastes. Ice cream and tuna interest her. Olives, lemongrass and (more recently) bleu cheese keep her by my side. More recently baking--buttery cakes and croissants along with traces of raw flour--cause frantic miaos and pokes. Being so close to St. Patrick's Day, I decided to create an Irish cream cupcake--a treat that could inspire choruses of "No dear, those are Mummy's special cupcakes." Given she had no interest in other alcohols I've sipped or cooked with (Guiness, wines, liqueurs and the rest) I was more than surprised at her begging for a bit of cake (which she did not get...at least not then). Maybe it's the cream...or perhaps the sugar. With my luck, it's the whiskey.These cakelettes are very easy to make. The finished cake has Irish cream's caramelly tones while keeping a buttery-dense crumb and really doesn't need any additional boosting. Yet me being me, I chose to thoroughly embrace the day and gaze the fairy cakes with a thinned Irish cream icing. Since I'm not a fan of thick icings, the cakes were glazed while still warm--apart from thinning the icing, the flavours to seeped into the cakes and dribbled down the sides and left a thin layer to cool on top. You can, if you wish, cut away any rounded peaks from the cooled cakes and spoon on a thicker icing (vanilla or royal icing would work well) and top with whichever candies, sprinkles or dragees that come to hand.
Irish Cream Cupcakes
yield 12
110g (0.75c +4tsp) cake flour
1 tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
125g (0.5c + 1Tbsp) unsalted butter, softened
100g (0.5c) sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 tsp vanilla extract
60ml (0.25c) Irish cream liqueur
Preheat oven to 200C/400F. Line a 12-bowl cupcake tin with papers.
Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Set aside.
Cream together the butter and sugar until light, fluffy and almost pearlescent. Mix in the eggs one at at a time (or as best as you can), followed by the vanilla.
Incorporate half the flour into the batter, scrape down the sides and then continue with the rest of the flour. Pour in the Irish cream and mix until smooth.
Divide between the papered bowls and bake for 15-20 minutes, or until the cakelettes have risen, are golden and an inserted skewer comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack; decorate as desired.
Irish cream glaze
55g (0.25c) unsalted butter, very soft
30-60g (2-4Tbsp) icing sugar, sifted
1 Tbsp Irish cream liqueur
1 Tbsp cream (heavy or light) or milk (plus more, if necessary)
Beat together the butter and a couple of spoons of the sugar until smooth. With the beaters still going, dribble in the Irish cream and cream. Taste for sweetness--add more sugar or cream (or Irish cream) as necessary for the consistency you prefer.
cheers!
jasmine
I'm a quill for hire!
