Conventional wisdom — among burger bloggers at least — is that it’s not worth it to make your own buns. This matches my experience: chalky, crumbly, too chewy, too rich, the list of sins goes on and on. So many broken promises, so many tears.

These bitter bun experiences have taught me better than to take some blogger’s promises about the homemade bun that’s finally — really! — worth it, and so I might have skipped over my good friend Brett’s (of Trout Caviar) Bun recipe with that same cynicism if I hadn’t tried them before, and loved them. It was a hot summer afternoon picnic on Brett’s rolling Wisconsin property, Bide-a-Wee, and we were camped under a farmers market tent, trying to stay in the shade. My bun was full of wood smoked pulled pork, and while the pork was as delicious as pork usually is, the bun stole the show for me. Knowing Brett the buns would have to be homemade — I don’t think he’s ever served me bread he hadn’t baked himself — but I asked nonetheless if he had made the buns, incredulous. He had. I’m too discreet to ask a baker for his recipes, and with Brett’s Real Bread no longer for sale at the farmers market, I figured my only chances to savor these buns would be on the odd invitation out to Bide-a-Wee.

And then Brett asked the world check out his buns.

After that lunch in Wisconsin I didn’t need any more convincing to try the recipe. I followed it as Brett printed, although I may not have kneaded it quite as long as I should have because the dough was quite sticky and difficult for me to work with. In any case, I was planning an overnight fermentation in the fridge, which can cover over a lot of under-kneading sins. The buns came out of the oven the next day and were as good as I remembered.

What makes these buns so special? It’s the texture. They hit a perfect middle road: chewy enough to feel like something and absorb juices without disintegrating, yet light enough not to distract from the main event, located between them. These buns are suitable for a thick and juicy steakhouse burger but won’t diminish a diner-style slider, either. They even work with my favorite veggie burgers which, while delicious, are infamous for squishing out the back-side of lesser buns.

If inferior buns — from the store or your oven — have left you jaded and cynical, I am writing this post to tell you there is hope. There is truth. There is Le Bun.

Over the weekend I reorganized our spices, a project that involved transferring our dried herbs and spices into new jars. An unexpected perk of the process was the opportunity to take in the aromas of each. The wafts of cardamom seeds stayed with me through the day on Monday, and by evening I could no longer stand it; I announced that I would like to go to The American Swedish Institute for a visit to the Kaffestuga for cardamom rolls.

Tom, the in-house baker, immediately asked, “What do we need? Let’s make them!” I pulled The Swedish Table by Helene Henderson off the shelf and opened to the index where I found “cardamom rolls” under the letter C. To make your own Kaffebröd med Kardemumma you’ll need sugar, water, yeast, milk, cream, butter, flour, salt, freshly ground cardamom, cinnamon, eggs, almonds and pearl sugar. Pearl sugar and almonds, the last items on the list, were not on hand, which is why the rolls look a bit bare.

Tom went to work while I read in the living room and had the rolls ready just before bed, warming the kitchen and filling the apartment with the smells of cinnamon and cardamom. Warmed just before breakfast, the rolls made a wonderful start to a January morgon.

My taste in pizza runs strongly to the Neapolitan, and the pizza I make most often at home has a very thin, crisp crust. But I am by no means some kind of Neapolitan absolutist: I keep an open mind about the many styles of pizza in the world. Sometimes I even make a different style at home — like last night, when I got a craving for doughy, pillowy-crusted pizza. Without any dough prepped, I needed a crust that could be assembled and baked within a couple of hours. Focaccia is perfect for this — its flavor might be a little better with an overnight fermentation, but in a pinch it is a great bread to throw together.

As a baker, I happen to think pizza is always mostly about the crust, but with an assertive bread like focaccia as its base this pizza called for the simplest of toppings: some tomatoes, dried oregano, and a sprinkling of mozzarella cheese.

Dough:

• 20 oz all purpose flour
• ½ oz salt (~1 Tbsp)
• ¼ oz instant yeast (~2 tsp)
• .58 oz powdered milk
• .34 oz sugar (~1 Tbsp)
• 1.25 oz olive oil (~5 Tbsp)
• 16 oz water

The first thing to notice about this dough is that its hydration level is 80%: that’s way to wet to knead by hand. You could use the stretch and fold method, but it will greatly increase mixing time and should really involve an overnight rest. If you have a machine at your disposal, this is the time to use it: I combined all the ingredients in the bowl of my stand mixer and mixed — with the paddle to combine then with the dough hook — for about 9 minutes. But this batch was too small for my mixer to handle: the hook was missing a lot of the dough. The next time I make focaccia, I’ll use the food processor. Combine all ingredients in the food processor’s bowl using the steel blade and process until the dough comes together and is smooth, about two minutes.

Allow the dough to rest in an oiled medium mixing bowl for an hour until approximately doubled.

Preheat oven to 425ºF. Line a half-sheet pan with parchment and spread two or three tablespoons of olive oil evenly over the parchment. Pour out dough onto lined pan, top with another couple tablespoons of olive oil, then use your fingertips to spread the dough to fit the pan. It probably won’t fully cover the corners, but get as close as you can. Cover the dough with plastic wrap and allow to rest another hour, until the dough looks bubbly and full.

Toppings:

• 1 (14 oz) can diced tomatoes (I use Muir Glen’s fire-roasted variety and heartily recommend them)
• 1 tsp dried oregano
• 4 oz mozzarella cheese, shredded

After dough has risen the second time (in the pan), spread the tomatoes evenly over it and sprinkle with oregano. Distribute the cheese evenly over top. Bake 18-20 minutes, until crust is golden and cheese has started to brown in spots.

As much as I love the fresh vegetables at the Midtown Farmers Market, the joy of shopping there comes from more than just the products you can buy. Today, that joy was most aptly expressed by the beautiful weather: after a season-opener featuring gale-force winds and a second week where we endured a frigid bike ride only to narrowly avoid being hailed on, the mild temperature and sunny blue sky were a welcome change. Although the farmers market folks are always friendly, something about the sun put everyone in the best of moods. Vegetables may be few this early in the season, but the vendors and patrons more than make up for it with an abundance of cheer. It’s the Minnesota way.

Lest you think all this talk about sun and comradeship is to cover for lackluster market offerings, feast your eyes on what the market can offer: lettuce, spinach, spring onions, amazing strawberries from Gardens of Eagan, a hearty and spice-scented Swedish rye from Real Bread. Not quite enough for a market feast yet, but, coupled with the friendly faces I’m sure to see, incentive enough to be back next week.

Every Christmas my father prepares buñuelos for the family on the mornings of the 24, 25, and 26 so that all can have their share—no matter their arrival time. A round Colombian cheese bread, buñuelos are made from corn starch, shredded queso campesino, milk, and a little salt and sugar (we first mentioned them here). They are made from a very wet dough, as you’ll see below, and fried to perfection. The dough-balls turn naturally in the hot (but not too hot) oil, and can be helped along with the tap of a chopstick or the end of a wooden spoon. They’ll be firm to the touch when ready to be removed from the oil, and are best eaten warm. As kids we’d sometimes have them with peanut butter and milk. As a lover of sausage biscuits, this year another idea occurred to me…

Enjoyed for the first time today, “Buñuelo Sliders” proved to be a very repetible experiment.

Update: For the recipe, see comments below.