More jet lag (when will I NOT see a three as the first number on a clock in the middle of the night?). Try as I may I cannot make it past about 21.00 and then crash asleep as if I were hit by a train. Up, however, with the returning clubbers which is a lonely time of night or day. Europe is still mainly asleep and North America definitely in repose. The only thing to do is bake because at least I feel productive. So far there has been white bread, whole wheat bread with walnuts, muffins, a sour dough starter, white raisin bread and two batches of cinnamon buns. My father is a martyr to cinnamon buns (any bun, in actual fact) and so I try to perfect them – as ever, rather pathetically waiting for the enthusiastic affirmation that sometimes comes and sometimes does not. What does baking say about my psyche – I’d rather not think about it, to be frank. Oh Lord, and I want to open a bakery – confusion confusion – what are my motives????? Park that for later and think about cinnamon buns instead.
Cinnamon buns are a typically Canadian thing. I know there is a Swedish version which can be found in IKEA all over the world but as it is now owned by Dutch people and as the buns are in fact rather dry (you can always trust those Lutherans to do things by halves) I discount the Swedish contribution to the species and focus my time and attention on extolling the virtues of another typically Canadian baked good. I begin to realise how Canadian I am on this blogging, recipe recording journey but that is another topic altogether (along with my psyche).