Monday 15 August 2016

Hot Cross Buns. How hard can it be?



I got the idea to make hot cross buns for my host family at Easter. Unfortunately, I was too busy at the time and so it’s taken me until today to make this happen.

My host family were initially very impressed at the idea. They particularly liked the fact that a ‘Muzungu’ (white person) would acknowledge the significance of Jesus on the cross.  I didn’t like to correct this view and say that I am a typical English atheist ready to embrace anything I can eat.

There were 3 of us who had taken on the challenge of baking today; 2 were suffering debilitating hangovers and 1 had an oven in her host home. Perfect.

The day started easily enough when I went round the supermarket to stock up on ingredients. It’s a bit hard to know how many grams of sugar ‘3/4 cup’ is, but I managed. Luckily for me none of the Kenyans have had hot cross buns before and so they won’t know if I mess up!
                                                                                                                                                                
The more I cook in Kenya the more I learn. The egg shells here are tough, for instance, and so in order to crack an egg, you should tap it against the wall rather than the plastic mixing bowl. It feels quite counter intuitive, and I’m sure my UK-mother would be alarmed, but it’s much more effective. The recipe also required a lot of kneading. It’s not something I’ve ever had to do much of before and I would have been very unconfident if it were not for the fact that two of my entrepreneurs have patiently taught me to knead dough within the past month (one was a baker and I was learning his trade, the other wanted to find an activity I could do with his mother), both believed themselves to be my first teacher (clearly I was a slow learner!). It was nice to be able to put these skills to good use and soon our dough was looking nice and smooth

After 2 rounds of kneading and leaving the current filled dough to prove while naps were taken, we were ready to put the 19 spiced balls of dough in the oven on gas mark 3 (although I can’t be 100% sure about this as I know very little about gas marks, it may be that 3 was a poor guess). Lighting the oven was a bit of a faff because it made us so nervous to put our hands inside a flammable gas chamber while holding a lit match. Worse still, the oven kept going out once we turned the gas all the way down to gas mark 3 and cockroaches continued running out which was quite off-putting. Presumably they weren’t enjoying the gas chamber either (although I’m glad they were running away from the baking tray – it seems like the most hygienic direction).

Very little cooking time had elapsed when the oven ran out of gas and everything came to an abrupt halt. My host by now was fast asleep on her sofa and we didn’t like to disturb her more than necessary so we decided to take a couple of still squishy buns to a nearby house with a microwave. We were welcomed there by the friendly resident volunteer-host-mother (Elizabeth) and given a cheerful lesson in how to operate the necessary appliance. She appeared to have a great deal of faith in our ability to bake bread in her microwave; which was good, at least someone did.

3 minutes later the microwave pinged and we took out a piping hot bun. I know that microwaves tend to cook from the inside out and so although the outside didn’t look cooked (the cross was barely visible – it was white against beige) we felt that it might taste good inside. We burnt our fingers investigating this and were surprised to find that the inside was actually like toast. (There’s a reason we don’t microwave sandwiches back home and this is it). We were just about to put a second one in for a shorter amount of time (alternative options were few!) when the power cut out. This is not uncommon in Kenyan households but it’s not unannoying either. Now we really were challenged.

The first thing to do was make a list of people we knew nearby with ovens. The list was quite long, but when we made a few enquiries we found that not a single one of these ovens were operative! There was one family we knew with a functioning oven that lived a good distance away and eventually we resorted to asking them if we could visit (it was that or try and cook the buns in a borrowed toaster and I wanted to keep that as a very last resort). However, when I got in touch I was dismayed to find that their oven was electric and, while this meant there would be no more trouble with gas marks, it was also the case that we still couldn’t be helped until the power came back. I decided to sit it out and waited for the power. It came on at my side of town at about 5pm, dusk was at 6:30pm and I didn’t get news that light was back at the oven side of town until 7pm. I was beginning to lose my sense of humor at this point. Hot cross buns were more trouble than they were worth. Walking around after dark here is not advisable, particularly if you are a lone female with pasty white arms glowing like a beacon advertising your presence. I stomped off to my various friend’s houses to find the trays of buns I had stranded in everyone’s kitchens. Firstly to my friend with the exhausted gas oven (no luck, her house was locked) and then to Elizabeth’s house with the tray of buns in her microwave…if only I could identify her gate. I did eventually find a house that looked like hers. I would have been more confident if it were not for the rawkus female voices I could hear inside as I knocked hesitantly on the door – I’m sure that the homeowner I’d come to meet was quite a quiet lady. I felt such relief as Elizabeth opened the door and invited me in. As I was ushered into the kitchen I saw Jane, another host-mum and owner of the kitchen I had occupied earlier in the day. The ladies were having a wonderful time. Theirs were the clamorous voices I had heard on the doorstep. They were very pleased to see me and amazed me by opening the oven door to ask me if the buns were ready yet. I didn’t even know Elizabeth had a functioning oven! Actually, as it transpired, nor did she until Jane had come over and decided to use it, thereby turning it on for the first time since it had been purchased. It turned out that they had been trying to get hold of me for some time in order to ask me to help them know when the buns were done.

It seemed to me that I’d arrived at the perfect time, just as everything was looking nicely browned. I was wrong again (of course – why change a winning theme). As I ignorantly offered to prepare these two wonderful ladies the first taste, I picked up a bun, knife in hand, ready to cut it in half, and realized that only the top half was cooked. The bottom was still cold and doughy. That was unexpected.

What I hadn’t appreciated is that what we had was not an oven so much as a grill, so it was necessary to turn every bun upside-down in order to cook the bottoms too. Unorthodox but effective.

As we waited for the buns to finish, volunteers began to fill the house, joining the host mums and me. By the time the batch was ready there were 9 mouths to feed, 5 of which had never tasted this Eastertime classic before. It pleased me so much to slather my UK traditions in melted butter and share them with my Kenyan friends that I very nearly forgot the stress I’d gone through to produce it.

My host sister wants me to cook her pizza next week. I’m not sure I can cope.



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