A Serious Case of Swedish Buns

And a few words about something called Fika...

These Nordic types I’ve ended up spending my life with have a habit of making up words that no one can really translate.

Here in Finland the word sisu comes to mind. This word, etymologically linked to sisään (which means “inside”), invariably gets translated as “inner strength” or “guts” or, going by Wikipedia’s particularly sterile attempt, “stoic determination”.

The truth is, the word sisu, being a word that refers to something deep and profound and fundamental, is pretty much impossible to even explain let alone translate. I suppose it’s a bit like the word love that way; we all experience it but, I’d wager, would be hard-pushed to explain it.

Some words just defy neat identifications.

And just as “stoic determination” does a pretty naff job of evoking sisu, so too does “coffee break” do a horrible job of translating that joyous Swedish institution of fika.

The Swedish fika is another of those curious Nordic concepts that, like sisu (or love for that matter), is a thing best understood through experience.

No, it is not a mere coffee break. It is not a quick pause in the working grind for a moment to relax. It is a defined effort. An event to be planned, anticipated and embraced among friends and friends yet to be. It is a tradition, to be sure, but one without ceremony.

Reading things as an outsider, fika only becomes explicitly serious when it isn't considered serious implicitly. The Swedes adore their bastions of comfort. And to treat fika as something less than it is (as I experienced first-hand when suggesting a mid-service slice of apple and a room-temperature can of Red Bull was fika once during a long evening shift) is a sure way to insult this near-sacred institution.

As for specifics, great food is a necessity, and certainly coffee. But with all the hot drinks, freshly-baked cakes and confectionary, fika can't be so-called without the warmth of good company as well.

The bun recipe I’m sharing today is a perfect way of celebrating such company.

Now, if there is one thing I adore about Swedish food, it is the use of cardamom in cakes and pastries. The citrusy, almost electric zing, gives cakes and buns the most vibrant aroma, cutting through even the richest of doughs.

This recipe is the product of years cooking and refining them in Sweden and Finland. I love it. The balance of spice, the sugar, the butter. The way the syrup glaze, doused on the oven-hot buns, encourages the retaining of moisture within. I love these buns so much and it’s a thrill to be sharing them with you today.

One development I’ve made to this classic recipe is the addition of some very thick porridge in the dough. This sounds weird (it’s a tip I first shared here) but the gelatinised starches in the porridge work to condition and hydrate the dough, which doesn’t just make for the softest, most tender buns fresh from the oven, but also makes them keep that way for so much longer than without it. These buns are beautifully moist and tender even 2 days after baking them.

My final development is to use just a touch of cornflour in the filling, which my testing suggests keeps it from seeping out of the buns while they cook.

The below recipe gives details on how to make either cardamom or cinnamon buns.

A Recipe for Cinnamon/Cardamom buns

Makes 8 buns

Dough
100 ml whole milk
12 g fresh yeast/6g active dry yeast
1/2 egg (beat one egg and use half in the dough. The rest we use to glaze later)
75 g sugar
EITHER: 2 tsp ground cardamom for cardamom buns
OR 1 tsp ground cardamom for cinnamon buns (that’s right, a true Swedish cinnamon bun also needs cardamom)
1/2 tsp salt
250 g strong white bread flour (I choose protein levels of around 13g per 100g)
50 g room temp butter
25 g rolled porridge oats and 75g water cooked into a very thick porridge

Filling
50 g room temp butter
45 g brown sugar
EITHER: 2 tsp ground cardamom for cardamom buns
OR: 2 tsp ground cinnamon for cinnamon buns
1/4tsp corn starch

Glazing Syrup
25 g sugar
25 ml water
1/2 tbsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp grated lemon zest

Extras
1/2 egg (for brushing before baking, use the other half of the beaten egg)
1 tbsp sugar (to sprinkle after syrup glaze)

Method
In a large bowl, add the yeast into lukewarm milk and stir to dissolve. Then add the egg, sugar, cardamom, and salt. Then mix in your cooked, thick porridge thoroughly so it combines well with the liquid ingredients.

Gradually add the flour and knead the dough really well for a good ten minutes until the dough is smooth and developing gluten. It should start to feel firmer and a bit bouncier. Once you’re there, add the soft butter bit by bit, kneading further to incorporate it all. Then further knead the dough until it is smooth, no longer sticks to your hands or the table, and has lots of glutinous strength to it. I hand-knead the dough about 15-20 minutes for a lighter, more delicate bun. For something chewier with more gluten development, your best bet is to use a stand mixer to work the dough for the 20 minutes instead.

Personally I like them fluffy and tender in a way hand kneading allows.

Then, let the dough rise in a lightly oiled bowl under plastic wrap for 20-30 minutes (this will vary depending on the warmth in your kitchen) or until about double in size.

Mix the filling ingredients in a bowl.

Once risen, knead the dough briefly (only use a very light dusting of flour if you feel it’s totally necessary). Roll it out into a rectangle about 40 cm x 30 cm. Spread the filling over the dough and fold the sheet in half over itself (so, fold the top over the bottom toward you).

Cut the dough into strips about 3 cm wide.

Traditional spiral shape

Slice each strip lengthwise almost all the way through, leaving about 1 cm at the top (the end with the fold) uncut. Twist each “leg” by rolling it gently over the table. Then, loop the first twisted leg up over the top of bun to form a loose circle. Then do the same with the second leg and finish by tucking the end up through the first circle you formed. Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment.

Plaited bun shape

Slice each strip twice lengthwise to make 3 “legs” almost all the way through, leaving about 1 cm at the top uncut (again, the top being the end with the fold). Plait the legs by crossing them over each other one after the other (see picture), pinch the end together, then roll it over itself starting from the top down over itself to the bottom ending so the “seam” sits underneath the bun.

(Tip: keep the 3cm slices of pre-shaped dough in the fridge if you have a hot kitchen or the shaping takes you a long time. The dough can get very sticky at room temp once it is cut.)

Once shaped, let the buns rise under oiled plastic wrap until nicely puffed up to double in size and very tender to the touch. This can take anything from 30 minutes to several hours in colder kitchens.

Brush the buns with the remaining half an egg.

Bake at 225°C/430°f fan oven for about 8-10 minutes or until further risen and a deep golden brown.

While baking, bring the glazing syrup ingredients to a boil and stir until the sugar dissolves. Fresh from the oven, brush the warm buns immediately with the syrup and sprinkle with the sugar.

They’re best eaten with some warmth from the oven still lingering within them. But, thanks to that porridge, they’re excellent even the day after baking, if you keep them wrapped nicely overnight.

Excellent served with strong coffee and good friends.

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ps

If you want to learn more about classic Nordic bun baking from me 1-to-1, then check this out…