Lemon and cardamom kanelbullar

Every now and then I have a little 1:1 with myself and do a bit of blog planning. I keep a list of interesting recipes I have only thought about but never actually written down properly, a list of things I have wanted to try but never did, a list of childhood classics to tell you about, and so on. While a lot of all these are sweet, a good chunk is made with yeast.

I love working with yeast. Over the years I have been experimenting and learning A LOT when it comes to different types of yeast and now I’m confident enough to use dry and fresh yeast and even fermented-type yeast. Over the past couple of years B. has also become a keen bread baker and we now have two jars of starter in our fridge (one rye, one white), which, considering I also have my homemade yogurt in there, makes for quite a crowded fridge.

Anyway, imagine my astonishment when, during one of these 1:1 I realised that in over a year of blogging, I have only posted only one yeast-based recipe. So without further ado, let’s make this better and let me introduce you to the second of a hopefully long series of recipes that have the marvellous yeast at their very core.

Kanelbullar are sweet Swedish buns filled with either cardamom- or cinnamon-flavoured butter. Until I get the chance to visit Sweden and get some factual evidence on Kanelbullar, here’s what I know: Scandinavians love their sweet breads and pastries. And how can you not, when they are this lovely and delicious? Anyway, there’s a plethora of sweet buns in Scandinavian cooking and it’s an understatement to say that I want to make (and eat) them all. I’m starting with cardamom buns, but saffron and cinnamon ones are on the list too.

What’s there to say about these buns? The spelt flour gives a nutty edge which I loved. The combination of cardamom and lemon zest is just perfect. The whole thing is aromatic and not overly sweet, which makes for a nice contrast to the sweet crunch of almonds and sugar on top of the bun. If you enjoy working with yeast, then these are definitely a reward. It was a bit tricky trying to twist the buns and try to hold them into place (and I’m not sure I succeded at that, seeing some of the examples out there on the Web) but it was definitely fun.

Adapted from Scandilicious and Kokblog. The idea of mixing cardamom with lemon zest has been taken from the quirky “The Scandinavian Kitchen” by Camilla Plum. Makes 30-35 buns, depending on the size.

Ingredients for the dough

250 ml milk

50 gr butter, melted

15 gr fresh yeast

1 egg, beaten

150 gr wholemeal spelt flour

350 gr strong white flour

75 gr caster sugar

1 tsp fine sea salt

For the filling

70 gr butter, at room temperature

75 gr caster sugar

2 tsp cardamom pods

zest of 1 organic lemon

To finish

1 medium egg

a bit of milk

flaked almonds

demerara sugar

Warm the milk in a pan until amost boiling. Turn off the heat and add the butter. While you wait for the butter to melt, in a bowl mix together the flours, sugar, sugar and salt.

When the milk is cool enough for you to put s finger in (and leave it there without scalding yourself) add the yeast, broken in little pieces. Gently work it with a spoon or your fingers until it’s melted.

Add the milk mixture to the flour bowl. Immediately after add the beaten egg and quickly mix everything with a wooden spoon. Tip on a clean surface and knead until the dough looks and feels soft. Put the dough in a plastic box, cover with a lid and put in the fridge to rest overnight. The extra time will allow the dough to ferment, while the cold won’t allow the yeast to overwork.

The day after, when you are ready to start working again, take the dough out of the fridge about 30 minutes before starting to work with it. While you wait for it warm up, prepare the filling.

Open the cardamom pods and powder the seeds in a pestle and mortar. Cream together butter, sugar, zest and cardamom seeds until you end up with a smooth butter.

Separate the dough in half. Roll one half into a rectangle roughly 25 x 45 cm in size. Spread with half the cardamom butter and fold in half on the longer length. As for the cutting and folding, I suggest you visit kokblog and follow the lovely illustrations there. I did!

Once you have done all the folding and twisting and your buns are ready (and you have used the remaining half of the dough), place them on a baking sheet covered with baking parchment and cover with a clean tea towel or some clingfilm. They will need to prove for about 30 minutes to 1 hours.

In the meantime, preheat the oven to 200°C / 180°C fan-assisted. Beat together the egg and a little milk and glaze the buns. Sprinkle some flaked almonds and demerara sugar and bake until deeply golden.

They are best eaten on the day you make them, but I found that reheating them in a warm oven one or two days after makes them just as delicious as freshly baked.

Spinach and kale, with white sauce

I’m going to admit this: this photos were taken a long time ago. This post has been in draft for at least 3 weeks. Weeks which have passed rather quickly, as all weeks seem to do since I started working full-time last year. Between a birthday and dissertation work, March is almost finished and Spring has officially started! Which makes it all the more shameful, really, that I should come back to you with an unapologetically winter recipe.

Luckily for me, Spring has started only according to the calendar (and retailers, who already have their warm season collections out). The weather is very much still a winter one, at least if you live anywhere in the UK or thereabouts. This time last year we had an incredible heatwave that made my fellow Northerners don their flip-flops whilst sipping ale and getting their noses sunburnt. This time around, I’m staring out of my kitchen window and tiny snowflakes are tirelessly flown around by strong gales, whilst countless household in rural areas not too far from here have been without power since last night. All of this just to demonstrate to you that even if I tried, out of kindness to the calendar, there’s no way I could shift my frame of mind away from warm and comforting winter food. Which takes us right back to this magnificent (if you ask me) way of using some of the best crops the cold season offers.

 This dish come straight from my grandma Ivonne’s repertoire. Perhaps repertoire doesn’t quite convey the right message though. I’d call it one of her signature dishes, but that sounds more Michelin stars than family cooking. It’s a recipe that spells out the meaning of spinach for my family, it’s the way to make spinach. There are no other ways. Last year, after a few idylllic days in Croatia, B. and I spent a few days with my family. B. prepared a lovely chickpea and spinach stew and when my grandma heard that he had cooked something, asked me how he had made it. As soon as I mentioned spinach leaves, she interrupted me, suspiciously. ”Chopped?” she asked. ”No” I said “Just leaves, whole”. “…Whole?“ “Yes, whole”. With that, her face turned into a mixture of disbelief and disapproval, clearly abhorring the thought that somebody might willingly choose to eat spinach leaves whole instead of finely chopped.

Traditions aside, I think finely chopping the leaves here does have a reason. When you mix the white sauce in the greens, the two become one. I don’t think you could achieve the same if you didn’t chop the leaves and stems. I didn’t have the exact recipe so I followed my instict (and some good old common sense) and it turned out as I remembered it. My grandma only uses spinach for this, but I have eaten so much kale over the past few winters that I now consider it part of my vegetable routine over the cold British months. So, let’s all roll our sleeves, gather the dusty kale at the back of your fridge and coat it in a luscious white sauce.

Inspired by grandma Ivonne’s spinach recipe. White sauce recipe from “La Cucina Triestina“.

Ingredients

1100 gr untrimmed (1 kg trimmed) spinach, red and green kale

For the white sauce

40 gr unsalted butter

45 gr plain flour

500 ml milk

salt and nutmeg

Start by preparing the white sauce. Melt the butter in saucepan and add the flour. Stir until evenly incorporated, but don’t let it brown. Take off the heat and add the milk little by little, along with the salt and nutmeg. Keep stirring until the mixture is smooth and without any lumps. Place back on a gentle heat and cook for about 20 minutes, stirring constantly to avoid any clumps forming and the bottom burning. You should end up with a thick and smooth sauce. If needs be (we’re humans after all), strain any lumps through a fine sieve.

Wash, trim and finely chop the leaves, stems included. Fill the bottom of a large pot with a little bit of water and put the leaves in. If you can’t fit them all in, don’t despair, as soon as the leaves in the pot wilt you will have the space to put the rest. Cover with the lid and steam on a very low heat, until completely wilted.

If there’s any remaining water on the bottom of the pan, cook with the lid off to get rid of it. Stir the white sauce into the spinach and kale and cook for a few more minutes. Taste and season if needs be. Serve hot.