Gothenburg Goodies: The Hagabulle.

Part One of a Pud-Hog Sweet Series from Sweden…

Hagabullen

The Pudding that’s also a Frisbee

What? The Hagabulle is an enormous Haga-café-based Swedish-style Cinnamon Roll – a mouthful in more ways than one.

In the likely event that you don’t get the scale from the photo above, find a dinner plate, roll a tea towel into a spiral, and lay it on the top as if it’s Pastry. Even then it’ll be smaller than what I vainly attempted to eat with Ma Hog.

You can find these giant Kanelbullar (a.k.a. Cinnamon Rolls) in various parts of town – but the bad boys from Café Husaren are apparently among the best-loved.

In quantity terms, they certainly outrank anything you’ll find in Cinnabon.

In quality terms, however, I reckon there’s room for improvement.

Though the faint taste of Cardamom makes for a fragrant bite, the Hagabulle is disappointingly dry: it needs more Cinnamon goo to make the grade. Indeed, the paste was all too scanty – plainly no match for the acres of flaky bread it was holding together.

Replacing the hard sugar lumps with icing would also have done the trick – or warming it up and dunking the whole thing in coffee or tea.

As it was, with only a glass full of water to help me along, I found it a tough task indeed. As did Ma Hog.

Now, you don’t hear that very often…

Where? Café Husaren (in Gothenburg. Obvs)

How Much? 40kr (about £4 at the time of writing – pretty darn cheap for Sweden)

Rating?

6/10

Fab for photos; not so fab for feeding

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Rated: Exeter Street’s Pizza Dolce.

Pizza Dolce

Your jaw won’t know what hit it

What? One of my favourite concepts revisited: the Sweet Pizza.

Made with a thin Italian bread-style base, this particular variety lacks the exciting toppings of Custard and Fruit that I’ve sampled on other Dessert Pizzas here in London.

Nevertheless, the principle still floats my boat.

Artisinal bread impregnanted with Raisins and covered in a scattering of Sugar?

Perfection, no?

Er… No.

Alas, its simplicity didn’t quite work in its favour, despite the nice balance of flavours. The reason? The base itself.

You see, without the distraction of various toppings, the success of this dessert was almost entirely dependent on the bread, which was so tough and dry it actually hurt to eat it.

Never before has my mandible had such a work out: a few bites in and I was already feeling the pain of lactic acid in my jaw muscles.

Now don’t get me wrong, Ogglers. I’m all for burning off calories in order to justify seconds (or even firsts) of desserts and cakes.

Burning off facial tissue however?

No, thank you, Pizza Dolce

Where? Sold by the Exeter Street Bakery at various London Farmers’ Markets (including the one at Marylebone; occasional home to the Tuffet and Manor House Fruit Cake)

How Much? £1.30 for a pretty big slice (more than enough to get two jaws screeching)

Rating?

4/10

Filling me softly. Not.

The Pud-Hog’s Pud of the Year: Top 10 Homemade Puddings.

Yes, I have my share of disasters in the kitchen. But sometimes – sometimes – things work out rather well.

Below are this year’s classic home-cooked champions (excluding the Christmas Buns, that is – they arrived too late in the day).

With the exception of Numbers 5 and 8, all the recipes are available on this website – so if you like the sound of them, get into the kitchen and BAKE.

10. Pud-Hog Slob Slop

Mush

It’s hardly the most beautiful of bowlfuls – but is definitely the quickest lump of comfort food I’ve ever made.

Gooey, milky, warm and sweet, all it takes is a microwave and some very basic ingredients.

Customise with a dollop of Jam, Honey or Salted Caramel, and your stomach will greet it with glee.

Get the Pud-Hog Slob Slop recipe here.

9. Yum Rum Balls

Salvation!

Baking gone bad? Don’t throw your cake crumbs away: recycle them into a box full of chocolatey, boozy balls.

Good for presents – even better for personal piggery.

Get the Yum Rum Balls recipe here.

8. Marmite Chocolate Cupcakes

ChocMar3

An invention of supper club hostess MsMarmitelover, I tried these out a few months ago and promptly fell in love with them.

Along with the richness of those moist sponge bases, their indulgent Marmite-flavoured cream and frosting make these more like miniature puddings than cupcakes – have more than one and you’ll probably need to lie down.

Perfect for lovers of salty sweetness (and die-hard Marmite fans).

Get the Chocolate and Marmite Cupcake recipe from MsMarmitelover’s website (it’s the second one down on the page…)

7. Dessert Tortillas

Banana Tortilla

SURELY the next sweet sensation?! A warm, freshly made Tortilla (plain- or Cinnamon-flavoured), stuffed with whatever you fancy.

I ate mine with Chopped Banana, Cinnamon Cream and Brown Sugar and it was AWESOME – quite possibly my favourite breakfast treat of the year.

They even freeze well too…

Get the Dessert Tortilla recipe here.

6. Orange and Dark Chocolate Buns

Finito

As you regular Ogglers know, in the last few months I’ve become rather obsessed with making Buns. These Orange and Dark Chocolate bad boys were my first yeast-based experiment, and boy did they do me proud.

A super soft dough, thick chunks of Dark Chocolate, and the zing of Orange extract…

Who wouldn’t want to shove one in their Bun-hole?

Get the Orange and Dark Chocolate Bun recipe here.

5. Cinnabon Substitute

Cinnabon

This recipe was introduced to me by my pal Mimi after both of us caught the Cinnabon bug.

In an effort to recreate that gooey Cinnamon goodness at home (avoiding the high prices – and at least some of the naughtiness), she found an alternative on the web and brought round the results.

They were truly wonderful: so squishy and well lubricated (both with Cream Cheese and Cinnamon Butter) that they squelched with every bite.

Trust me, folks: if you don’t have a Cinnabon in your vicinity, these are the next best thing.

Get the Cinnabon Substitute recipe from the All Recipes website.

4. White Chocolate and Cranberry Blondie

The beast lies dormant. Don't be fooled.

This could well be stickiest, naughtiest thing I’ve made (nay, eaten) since embarking on this blog. Even when cooked it comes out part-baked, with a strata of White Chocolate syrup beneath its caramel-coloured crust.

Even so, in my humble opinion, it’s the texture that Blondies should be: wet, crisp, and chewy – with added textural variation from the jewel-like Cranberry chunks.

Just make sure you have a spoon ready – or things could get very messy.

Get the White Chocolate and Cranberry Blondie recipe here.

3. Raspberry Cheesecake Blondie

Blondie LayersIf No.4 wasn’t exciting enough, how’s about serving your Blondie as part of a Cheesecake?

Overkill, you say?

You couldn’t be more wrong.

This majestic creation consists of three of the tastiest tiers you can imagine: on the bottom, a gooey White Chocolate slab; on the top, a tart Raspberry Cream; and between them, a layer of thick cooked Cheesecake.

Having toned down the levels of sugar involved, the final product was thankfully not oversweet – more a complementary balance of Berries and Chocolate.

Though I say so myself, It looks rather splendid too…

Get the Raspberry Cheesecake Blondie recipe here.

2. Hot Buttered Rum

Golden Delicious

This recent addition to my repertoire blew my mind back in October.

Being my first encounter with sweet buttered drinks, it was destined to make a pretty big impression.

Having entered my world via Choc Tales (a Chocolate and Cocktail event held in Dean Street) its creators (Manhattans Project) were kind enough to keep it there by passing the recipe this way.

If you haven’t yet tried it, you must. Every mouthful is like nectar: a beautiful blend of Rum, Butter, Apple Juice, Golden Syrup and warming Spices.

On Christmas Day, it’ll be my tipple of choice.

Heck. On every day it’ll be my tipple of choice.

Get the Hot Buttered Rum recipe here.

 

1. Peach, Almond and Goat’s Cheese Cheesecake

Regardez... and try not to dribblez

LOOK AT IT.

Isn’t it glorious?!

I still can’t believe this was made with my own fair trotters – but made with my own fair trotters it was.

The Pud-Hog Blog aside, this is by far my proudest creation in the last twelve months, and not just for its snazzy yellow pattern.

Inspired by food from the south of France, its ingredients work in (surprisingly) perfect harmony: the Almond Biscuit bottom, the sweet Goat’s Cheese, White Chocolate and Honey insides, the juicy slivers of Peach adorning the top…

SUPERB.

While Goat’s Cheese is usually not my favourite flavour, in this it works wonders – but I guess you’ll have to try it to believe it.

Light, creamy and full of zing – get the recipe here and feel free to send me the results.

HAPPY HOGGING!

Recipe: Christmas Buns.

Tired of Mince Pies? Prefer something… doughier?

Then get your chops around the Pud-Hog’s Christmas Buns.

I made some last night with a jar of old Mincemeat (left over from 2011), plus a generous sprinkling of Mulled Spice Sugar (a special mix sold by Steenbergs, infused with Cinnamon, Nutmeg, Allspice and Clove).

They turned out to be a textural triumph: extremely soft, extremely juicy, and crisp on the top with a layer of baked spiced Sugar.

In fact, they could well be the best Buns I’ve made – and given the taste of my Orange/Dark Chocolate variety, that’s a fairly major accolade, I assure you…

Christmas Buns (makes 6 big ‘uns)

Christmas Buns

Naughty AND Nice

Ingredients:

For the Dough:

  • 120ml warm water (a mixture of half boiling and half cold)
  • 7g dried yeast (approx one sachet)
  • 300g strong white bread flour
  • 50g light brown sugar
  • 40g melted butter/vegetable fat
  • 1 egg
  • 1 tsp salt

For the Filling and Top:

  • 400g mincemeat (vegetarian, ideally)
  • 30g mulled spice sugar, approx (or normal sugar with 2 tsp allspice if you can’t get hold of the Steenbergs blend)
  • 20g butter/marge

Method:

  1. Stir the yeast and warm water in a jug/cup and leave somewhere warm to react
  2. Meanwhile, in a large bowl, mix the other dough ingredients together
  3. When the yeast/water mixture is starting to get nice and frothy (after about 10 mins), pour it into the rest of the dough and incorporate with a spatula
  4. Before the water has the chance to get cold, quickly take out the dough and knead on a floured surface for 10 mins (until the dough is ultra smooth and springy)
  5. Return the dough to its bowl, cover with a tea towel, and leave in a warm place to rise until doubled in size (i.e. 60 to 90 mins)
  6. Take out your risen dough and lay to rest under a tea towel on a floured surface for 10 mins
  7. Roll out into a rectangle (approx 10 x 8 in inches, or 25 x 20 in centimetres)
  8. Spread the mincemeat evenly over the surface, making sure to cover the dough right up to the edges
  9. Cut your rectangle into 6 strips (a strip being 8 inches/20cm long) and roll each one up into a coil (with the mincemeat on the inside, obvs)*
  10. Place in a large floured baking tray
  11. Melt the second batch of butter/marge and drizzle the top of each bun with about a teaspoon’s worth. Then sprinkle a liberal teaspoon or two of mulled sugar on top of this (depending on how sweet you want the final product)
  12. Cover with a tea towel, and leave in a warm place to rise for another 30-40 mins
  13. Pre-heat the oven to 170 degrees
  14. Bake in the centre for approximately 25 mins, or until golden and cooked through
  15. Place on a wire rack to cool
  16. DEVOUR – still warm, if possible (just don’t burn your tongue on that mincemeat)

Happy Ho-Ho-Hogging!

P-H x

[* NB: since sharing this post a few pals have suggested rolling the dough up first, then cutting it into 6 portions.

If you want to save time then go for it – but I like the less uniform shapes that come out when you roll each one up individually.

As a wise man once said, the choice is yours…]

Maltby Street Treats: The London Bun.

What a curious market is Maltby Street. Every Saturday, under the arches of the railway line, various vendors gather to peddle their wares – not that you would know it at first glance.

Unlike the heaving stalls of nearby Borough, Maltby is tucked away and still relatively unknown.

While the northern end buzzes with people buying hot food and cocktails, five minutes away is another collection of shops in draughty cubby holes, hidden so well that most walkers would stroll right past. This is the second section: the secretive Spa Terminus Market.

Walk on by: an entrance to the Spa Terminus

For us, it was a treasure trove of surprises: just when we thought we had browsed it all, another small place would appear, or a handmade sign would alert us to somewhere else we might find near by.

Take the Little Bread Pedlar, for instance, who normally dole out their baked goods by bike. We almost missed them, obscured by stacked crates as they were, but luckily the Man was curious enough to look more closely.

Thank goodness he did, for inside was a treat that caught our collective eye: a tray of lesser-spotted London Buns.

Bun-don Calling

Having lived in this city for more than two years, you would think we’d have seen these all over the place. But no: they were our first sighting.

Apparently they are traditional, though accounts of their ingredients don’t necessarily concur. Indeed, while Wikipedia agrees that they are finger-shaped and iced, its article states that they’re flavoured with Currants or Caraway.

LBP, meanwhile, create theirs with a Lemon and Cardamom icing – far more enticing to lovers of zing like myself.

We bought one at once – for the bargainous price of £1.50 – and took it outside to get our first taste of tradition.

Very lovely it was too: a soft, plain Bun with the thickest and sweetest of icings. Taste-wise, the Lemon was rather drowned out by the Cardamom, but the overall fragrant effect was well worth a good hearty chew.

Makes you wonder how a truly representative London Bun would taste though, doesn’t it, Ogglers?

A hint of essence of Pigeon? Dashes of eau de la taxi? Dark brown Thames-water icing?

Hmm…

I think I’ll pass.

Review: The Bakery Cafe.

A snapshot of Dorset’s most priviliged diners

I need to move to Sherborne. Pronto. I need to live near the Bakery Cafe.

That place is everything your friendly neighbourhood eatery should be: welcoming, warm, and full of wonderful things to gorge on.

Think bowls of golden homemade Muesli, communal tables decked out with Butter and Jam, as much toasted home-baked bread as you like, and a bakery stuffed with all manner of super-fresh treats.

On our recent visit, seduced by the sights in the window, the Man and I shared a Scone and a Bun – both of which were, quite frankly, blooming massive.

So massive, in fact, they could not be confined by a plate

The Scone would have been the biggest I’d seen were it not for those mutants in Ditchling I wrote about back in January. Even so, it was easily the size of a large clenched fist – Hulk Hogan’s perhaps, or Goliath’s.

Inside was a colourful riot of fruit: not just your average Sultanas, but cubes of Dried Apricot too.

I slathered my half in Butter, enjoying the various textures (a topping of toasted flaked Almonds – YUM) and marvelling that it had cost only five pence more than that controversially tiny specimen bought from the sewing cafe in Bristol.

Our Bun was a bargain £2 as well and turned out to be similarly juicy, with plump Sultanas, sticky white Icing and buttery Cinnamon innards (the core of which were scoffed by the Man before I could punch him hard enough).

Though not nearly as gooey or cloud-like as Cinnabon, it was nevertheless pretty soft, with a pleasant yeasty undertone that made it feel far more wholesome.

However, as undeniably flavoursome and exciting as both these Cakes were, a spontaneously-bought Chocolate Brownie was what really won me over.

First Place! Now collect your prize in my stomach…

We were already stuffed and on our way out, but as the last slice it instantly caught my eye, being larger than a single portion, yet not large enough for dividing. I took it away, convinced it had earned its £2 price on size alone.

But the taste, dear Ogglers – the taste!

This was no ordinary Chocolate concoction, but a special slab laced with Fennel and Caraway Seeds.

Goodness, it was delicious: not soft, but crisp and chewy – not to mention being moist in the extreme. Combined, these attributes made it one of the most exciting textures I’ve tried (and, believe me, I’ve tried a lot).

As for that flavour, who knows how much Butter had entered the mix, but the taste it gave out was superb. Salty, dense, sweet, spiced – it was, in a word or three, MY PERFECT BROWNIE (needs capping-up, don’t you think?).

Seriously. I almost moved house there and then. And, as we walked back to the station, I wondered why people were buying Cakes anywhere else.

People of Sherborne: you don’t know how lucky you are.

Spelt Cinnamon Buns with Blackberry ‘Drizzle’.

I realised yesterday that it had been almost two weeks since my Baking Bunanza – clearly two weeks too many, if you ask me.

Given the cool October evening and the haul of Blackberries in my fridge, I had a strong urge to make something wholesome and autumnal.

Hello Spelt Flour and Cinnamon: a new combination was on its way.

As usual, I followed my Chocolate and Orange Bun recipe, substituting ingredients as I went. Out came the Orange Extract and 100g of the Strong White Bread Flour, with 100g of Spelt Flour measured in to fill the gap.

The dough took longer to rise than normal (which was down to the Spelt Flour, I’m guessing), and when it was ready I sprinkled the inside with Cinnamon Sugar (60g worth of Brown Sugar to 2 tsp of Cinnamon) in place of all that chopped Dark Chocolate.

They smelt delicious and looked appealing, if a little on the doughy side. In my defence I was just too hungry to wait for more proving, and Ms Q – she of Hell Pony Biscuit fame – was keen to get into my buns post-haste.

Who wouldn’t want a piece of that action?

No doubt they would have been tasty enough as they were. But that wouldn’t have been much of experiment now, would it?

No, sir. Instead it was time to get sticky with glazing.

In hindsight, I probably should have measured things out – taken a look at a recipe book or something equally sensible. By this time, however, it was ten p.m. and – I repeat – I was hungry.

Quick as I could, I sifted some Icing Sugar, poured in some juice from my Blackberry haul and allowed Ms Q to beat it senseless.

In moments we had a bowl of fake blood: runny and purple and dark.

Nurse!

It may have looked like a cannibal’s pint, but the taste was magnifique.

Unwilling to drown out the Blackberry tang with a flurry of surplus sugar, we opted to change our Glaze into Drizzle, and poured it right away.

The adventure would henceforth be known as Bloody Bunday

Yes, it looked like a massacre, but it’s a crime I don’t regret: the extra moisture our Drizzle contributed – not to mention that gorgeous dimension of fruit – was well worth all the mess.

Indeed, the Blackberry and Cinnamon worked together most deliciously, with the Spelt providing a more substantial bite.

Seriously satisfying.

It wasn’t bad timing for such a find either, now I come to think of it. After all, it’s less than four weeks until Hallowe’en…

Blackberry Blood all the way, baby.

Happy Hogging!

P-H x

The Honey Kouglof.

I’m sure I’ll never learn all there is to know about puds, but this blog is a damned fine excuse to try. I think of it as investigative journalism: if I see something new, it’s my duty to give it a go.

My most recent find was a Honey Kouglof, spotted at the Paul Rhodes Bakery in Greenwich. At almost £3 for a slice, it wasn’t the cheapest of newcomers – but it certainly looked like the tallest.

The kind of mountainous peak I can handle

Indeed, it may be hard to tell from this picture, but the cake was quite a beast, overshadowing all its neighbours – almost literally.

I had never heard of a Kouglof before, let alone had a nibble of one. Now however, enlightened as I am, I can tell you a few things about it.

Firstly, it’s a cake that comes in many guises – Gugelhupf, Kugluh, Bundkuchen, Guguluf – depending on which part of Europe you’re in. From what I can gather, ‘Kouglof’ is the version in France.

But never mind that. Whatever the name, the facts are these: baked in a bundt tin, a Kouglof is made from a dough containing yeast.

Hence why it was so tall: those small yeasty particles had clearly been do(ugh)ing great things, making their new home rise to exciting heights.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself – I knew none of this as we stood in the bakery. All I knew was that the thing looked massive.

When it comes to puddings, I firmly believe that size does matter. So impressed as I was by the Kouglof’s stature (and enamoured as I am with Honey), I ordered myself a piece to go, expecting a chunk so large it could act as a doorstop.

There was one thing I’d overlooked, however: that great big hole in the middle, which had been obscured from view.

My piece turned out like this:

Silly bundt

Not tiny, but also nowhere near massive.

Such is life.

Taste-wise, things were extremely light too – but no less lovely for it.

The exterior had a slighty crisp crust and was dusted with fine sugar granules, reminding me of a Trifle Sponge. Inside, two moist layers – one of Apricot Jam and one of what seemed to be Honey Buttercream – added a much-needed zing and some depth.

Naturally, it was gone within seconds. But apart from the taste of Apricot (which slightly overrode the Honey), nothing much else of it lingered. So light was the cake, I’d felt like I’d almost dreamed it. It was a pleasant dream, of course, but not quite the full stop I needed after lunch.

Thank goodness for the Man, who’d purchased a Chocolate Tart and a Raspberry Millefeuille: a few borrowed chunks of these and I was sated.

The verdict then? My Kouglof conclusion?

If you fancy a moreish light bite then this will no doubt make your day. But, in general, a Pud-Hog requires something more.

Turns out it’s not just size that matters. It’s substance and density too.

Pistachio Rose’s Chocolate Naans.

Warning: Pud-Hog has OD’d on sugar, and may start talking naansense

Look at that picture and tell me you’re not dribbling.

Did you just say you weren’t dribbling?

I don’t believe you!

You’d have to be mad not to fancy a chunk out of these: three Chocolate Naans from Pistachio Rose – the Indian-style baking boutique that wowed me with its jaw-achingly tasty Chocolate Tarts back in July.

Those of you who read yesterday’s post about the Cake and Bake Show will already know that these sweet Naans were one of my main highlights.

I suppose it was inevitable, given my current obsession with bread-based Chocolate goodies.

Then again, I like these kinds of things for a reason.

It’s the contrast of textures that wins me over: the softness of fresh bread combined with the crunch (and subsequent melt) of Chocolate.

And boy, did these Naans have a glorious texture.

The bread itself was homemade by Pistachio Rose’s Rekha at 4am that morning. Having sold out the day before, I could hardly leave her stall without a small batch to try with the Man, so we settled for buying three (two for me, one for him – the kind of sharing ratio I like).

I must admit, it took us a while to choose. On offer were numerous flavour combos: variations of Nut, Chocolate, Fig, and Coconut Flakes. In the end we plumped for the following: Dark Chocolate, Fig and Coconut; White Chocolate and Almond; and Dark Chocolate and Pistachio – all at a bargain £2 a pop.

Initially planning to eat them after lunch, I managed to walk no further than twenty metres before ripping into the first: the one with Dark Chocolate and dried Fig pieces.

It. Was. Incredible.

Talk about contrasting textures: here was chew (Fig), crackle (ditto), crunch and melt (Chocolate) and light, soft bread. I even enjoyed the feel of the dried Coconut – a foodstuff which generally leaves me feeling ambivalent.

The other two Naans were delicious as well: the White Chocolate had started to caramelise in the oven, and the crunch of the nuts was seriously satisfying, if a little tricky to stop scattering over the lap bones.

If only I’d had a nice cup of hot Chai… I’m sure it would have made a perfect accompaniment.

What a brilliant idea!

But wait – it looks like someone else thought of it first: there’s a High Chai Tea Banquet in the pipeline for October. Clearly, great minds think alike.

What a clever little Pud-Hog I am. Except…

OK, Ogglers. One second. I have a confession to make.

Those last few sentences were a bit of an act. You see, I actually heard about this High Chai dealie while I was at the Cake and Bake Show, so I might not be quite as clever as I just made out. I can’t let that kind of stuff stain my conscience.

You got me, Ogglers. BUSTED.

Then again, the concept of smearing Chocolate on everything – well, I’m pretty sure I invented that.

Looks like I have a great mind after all.

A great appetite too. No doubt.

 

BUNANZA! One Dough, One Tray, and Many, MANY Flavours.

That’s right, Ogglers: it’s Bun-Time again; my favourite time of all.

Yesterday, I gave you a recipe for Orange and Dark Chocolate Buns. But why should we stop at just that?

You see, once I realised that Buns didn’t have to be Cinnabon Clones (delicious as they are) – and that it was perfectly possible to experiment – the universe seemed to open up before me.

I could do ANYTHING.

Armed with this knowledge, and a few choice ingredients, I set about assembling my Bunanza: a host of differently-filled sweet Buns, all from just the one batch of dough.

Below you’ll see a role call of my various creations. And you know what? It’s just the beginning.

All you need to do to join me in this Brave New World, is follow yesterday’s Bun recipe, minus the Chocolate filling and Orange extract.

Then, my friends, the only limit will be your imaginations.

Fill ’em with chocolate, crumble, marmalade, sweets, fruit, loads and loads and loads of butter; whatever takes your fancy. Just remember to be liberal with your measurements (if you skimp on the filling, the whole thing will feel a bit dry).

It’s clearly a new dawn, Ogglers. And you know what’s good for new dawns? A steaming fresh batch of HOMEMADE BUNS.

BUNANZA (numerous flavours in just the one tray)!

Method:

  1. Prepare your Bun Dough as per yesterday’s recipe, excluding the orange extract (unless you want that citrussy taste). Stop when you reach Step 7
  2. For optimum chances to experiment, cut the dough into 12 strips and coat each one with whatever filling you choose (see below for ideas)
  3. Resume with Steps 10 to 15

Those Bunanza Bad Boys in full:

Salt Caramel (ooh)

Honey and Chopped Almond (aah)

Crumbled Biscuit, Chocolate Cream Cheese, AND Salt Caramel (whew)

Peanut Butter and Blackcurrant Jam (no way!)

A Bun full of juicy Mincemeat (this year’s Christmas Classic?)

As I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s quite a line-up.

But that’s not everything. Finally, with the benefit of such extensive experimentation, I feel I ought to tell you some of the things I learned:

  • Crumbled Digestive Biscuits don’t crisp up in the oven (they get moistened down by the dough)
  • Salt Caramel and Honey tend to leak into the baking tray while they cook – so brush those buns with more of the good stuff when they’re done for an extra boost of flavour
  • Peanut Butter fillings need LOTS of moistness (jam, butter, etc) or else they get far too dry
  • Mincemeat Buns are DA BOMB
  • BUT Cinnamon Sugar still rules the roost…

So there you have it, Ogglers: the Pud-Hog’s first Bunanza.

It certainly won’t be the last.