Chelsea Buns

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Chelsea Buns

Teatime!

These little studies in excess were my initiation into the world of heartburn and all the trials and tribulations that follow on that depressing maiden voyage. Alas, thirty years later, the will is still perfidiously weak and the flesh relentlessly craves and demands these sinful exercises in buttery extravagance.

First contact with the innocuous Chelsea Bun came during the first year of studying for my Bachelor’s degree. The tuck shop of the university residence where I lived, stocked these for the benefit of ever hungry students (including those despairing at the soul destroying monotony of residence food hall cuisine). Hertjie was both the tuck shop owner and a B.Th student, striving to become a Minister of the faith. The fact that he, and the supplying bakery, did a roaring trade (and made a tidy profit) from these little delights off us ever hungry students underline that he perfectly understood the reverse of the general dictum: Man cannot live off bread alone.

If I remember correctly, the bakery delivered on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday afternoons. And their popularity demanded that you planned and executed your tuck shop visits diligently and with the precision of a tactical nuclear strike. Had only our studies received such care and devotion...

Particularly on Saturday afternoons, around 3pm, a small, dedicated congregation would gather outside the tuck shop, united in an atmosphere of gravid expectancy. We were interested in one thing and one thing only: the arrival of that delivery truck or an invariably beaming Hertjie himself on occasion, bearing hallowed trays of yeasty, sugar overloaded deliverance. And woe unto you if you arrived five minutes late, for the temple hall would be filled up to the eaves with general wailing and harsh gnashings of toothy despair.

My sordid affair with Chelsea Buns continued unabated after university, only to be interrupted by the desolation of National Military Service. Yet, in time, all good things must eventually come to an end. Severe, chronic gastritis was ultimately the downfall of my addiction and lead to many, many years of destitute wilderness wandering. Until the Way of the Proton Pump Blocker was revealed unto me and perdition fell away...

It would seem that South African Chelsea Buns apparently never stuck to the spirit of the original. We prefer – and crave – our Buns to be steeped in gluttonous and excessive sweetness. Witness the anomalous layer of icing sugar decoration universally applied throughout South Africa on top of the traditional sticky, sweet glaze that is sufficient for the rest of the Commonwealth.

Bitten Chelsea Bun With Cranberry Embedded

I prefer to bake my Chelsea Buns a little smaller than the commercial versions and use less icing glaze. I am not a young man any more and do not posses the conviction, nor might of flesh to polish off two of these (and a pint of milk) at one session as I was able to in the days of yore.

This recipe is richer and spicier than what are available at most local supermarket bakeries, coffee shops and cafés. The inclusion of dried cranberries and candied orange peel in the dough, as well as lime juice in the icing glaze, is in defiance of the spirit of the original. The cranberries and lime juice introduce a little acidity that assists in cutting the worst of the cloying – but necessary – sweetness. Substituting the traditional sultanas with Baker’s Mix dried fruit adds a subtle, extra layer of flavour.

I believe this recipe is what each Chelsea Bun should aspire to be: the Essence of Shameless Excess. See if you agree and let’s all jubilantly thank the merciful Creator for proton pump blockers!

CHELSEA BUNS

– PRINT RECIPE –

Recipe yields:

10 – 12 Buns

Preparation time:

± 180 minutes

Baking time:

25 min

Difficulty level:

Moderately easy

Special Equipment Required:

2 x 30cm x 22cm Rectangular baking tins

1 x Electrical mixer in the Kenwood Chef or Kitchen Aid class

Ingredients:

For the Buns:
Candied orange peel, well chopped	30g
Boiling water	45ml
Milk	100ml
Buttermilk	150ml
Bread flour / Strong white flour	500g
Salt	5ml
Ground cinnamon	2.5ml
Fine black pepper, commercially supplied	±1ml
Butter / Full fat margarine	100g
Caster sugar	85g
Instant yeast / Dried active yeast	10g
Extra large egg	1
Bakers mix	75g

Optional:
Dried cranberries, rough chopped	35g
Pecan nuts, rough chopped	35g

For the filling:
Butter / Full fat margarine	25g
Ground mixed spice	7.5ml
Brown sugar	50g
Currants	50g

Sugar syrup glaze:
White sugar	30g
Boiling water	45ml

Icing sugar glace:
Sifted icing sugar	160g
Lime juice	45ml
Boiling water	±15ml

Method:

Combine the chopped orange peel and boiling water. Set aside for 10 minutes, or until needed, to rehydrate.
Scald the milk over high heat and under constant supervision. Be vigilant as the milk will boil over in the blink of an eye. Immediately add the buttermilk to the hot milk and whisk well.
Sift the flour with the salt, cinnamon and black pepper into a mixing bowl. Rub in the butter and stir in the caster sugar and yeast. Add the soaked orange peel and soaking liquid.
Beat the egg and add it to the flour mixture along with the combined warm milk and buttermilk. Using the dough hook attachement, mix to a soft dough and then knead for 6 minutes by machine (or 10 minutes by hand). The dough will initially be wet and quite sticky, but will ‘come together’ after 3 – 4 minutes’ kneading.
Add the bakers mix, cranberries and chopped nuts (if used) as soon as the dough comes together and continue kneading until the dough is smooth and elastic, 5 – 6 minutes.
Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl and turn to coat with a thin film of oil. Cover with oiled cling film and leave to rise in a stove’s warm drawer (or an oven at it’s lowest temperature setting) until doubled in volume, about 75 – 90 minutes.
Knock the dough down and knead it for 1 minute. Roll into a neat 40cm x 35cm rectangle on a lightly oiled surface. Roll the center of the sheet a little thinner than the edges. This will prevent the rolled dough ‘sausage’ in the following steps from bulging in the middle and eventually baking uneven sized Buns.
Spread the butter / margarine evenly over the sheet of dough. Mix the mixed spice and brown and sprinkle it evenly over the dough sheet. Follow with the currants.
Roll the dough up along the one long side like Swiss roll. Roll the dough sausage to and fro a few times to ensure the center third is the same thickness the end sections. Use a sharp utility knife and cut the uneven ends off. Slice the roll into 12 slices approx. 4cm (two finger widths) wide. Coat the blade in a neutral flavoured oil between every second cut to prevent the blade from sticking to the dough.
Arrange the Buns, cut side up, on a floured baking sheet or suitable rectangular baking tins and cover with oiled cling film. Leave at room temperature to prove (rise again) until soft and pillowy, 30 – 45 minutes.
Heat a convection oven to 170°C (340 deg. Fahrenheit).
Bake for 22 – 25 minutes. Remove the baking tins and place them on wire cooling racks. Mix the sugar and boiling water for the glaze and stir until dissolved. Brush the baked Chelsea Buns immediately (and liberally) with the hot sugar glaze when removed from the oven.
Cover each pan with a dry tea towel folded double and set the Buns aside to cool to room temperature in their baking tins before separating.
Heat the lemon juice in a microwave until near boiling. Combine the icing sugar and lemon juice. Whisk until syrupy and smooth. Adjust the icing sugar decoration’s consistency with extra icing sugar or hot lemon juice as necessary to achive the correct viscosity. Drizzle with a teaspoon over the glazed Buns and set aside to harden.

Chelsea Buns On Cooling Rack, Overhead View

Comments:

The individual, glazed, but un-iced Buns can be frozen, well wrapped in aluminum foil.
The rich yeast dough will require time to rise, longer than for ordinary white bread, as the egg and fat slows the action of the yeast.