Lou-Anne and the Hot Cross Buns

The morning began with a delicious smell drifting across the Savannah.

Lou-Anne sat up at once. “Do you smell that?”

Marmalade, who had been asleep in a neat orange curl, lifted his head and sniffed. His eyes went wide.

“It smells like baking,” Lou-Anne said, already pulling on her shoes.

By the time she reached Omi and Opi’s house, M’Pofo, Kiera, Vakawu, Ubejane, Nuru, Buhala and Batenga were already there, all sniffing the air with great seriousness.

Omi stood in the kitchen doorway, smiling, with a floury apron tied around her waist.

“Good morning, everyone,” she said. “Today, we are making hot cross buns.”

Vakawu blinked. “Hot what?”

“Hot cross buns,” said Omi. “Soft, sweet buns with spices, raisins, and a cross on top.”

M’Pofo lifted his trunk excitedly. “I would like twelve.”

“You may start with one,” Omi replied.

Ubejane peered into the mixing bowl. “Why are they called hot cross buns?”

“Because we eat them warm,” said Omi, “and they have a cross piped on top before baking.”

Batenga gasped. “Fancy.”

First, Omi showed them all the ingredients on the big wooden table.

There was flour, milk, butter, sugar, yeast, cinnamon, and a bowl of raisins.

Lou-Anne helped measure everything carefully.

“This is the kind of baking where you must pay attention,” Omi said. “Too much flour and the buns go heavy. Too little and they go sticky.”

Vakawu immediately stuck a finger in the flour and sneezed.

“Too much nose,” said Ubejane.

Lou-Anne giggled.

Omi poured the warm milk into a bowl and added the yeast. “Now we wait a little. Baking teaches patience.”

Nuru and Buhala looked disappointed. Patience was not their favourite activity.

M’Pofo leaned over to watch the mixture. “It’s bubbling.”

“That means the yeast is waking up,” Omi said.

Batenga frowned. “There are tiny creatures in the buns?”

“In a way,” said Omi. “Very tiny helpers.”

Batenga decided not to ask any more questions.

Soon it was time to make the dough.

Lou-Anne tipped the flour into the bowl and added sugar, spice, and butter. Omi poured in the milk and yeast, and together they stirred until the dough became thick and shaggy.

“Now for the raisins,” said Omi.

Marmalade, who had been watching from a chair, gave the raisins a long look and decided they were suspicious.

Kiera helped scatter them into the dough.

Then came the kneading.

Lou-Anne pressed and folded the dough with both hands. Omi showed her how to push it away, fold it back, and turn it.

M’Pofo asked if he could help.

“You may,” said Omi carefully, “but gently.”

M’Pofo used the tip of his trunk to press the dough. It worked beautifully for exactly three seconds, until he got excited and flattened half of it across the table.

Vakawu laughed so hard he nearly fell off the chair.

Ubejane snorted. “That is not kneading. That is an elephant incident.”

Even Omi had to laugh.

After the dough was smooth again, Omi placed it in a bowl and covered it with a cloth.

“Now it must rise,” she said.

Vakawu looked offended. “Again with the patience?”

“Yes,” said Omi. “The best things often take time.”

While they waited, Lou-Anne and her friends sat outside in the sunshine. Opi brought out mugs of tea for the grown-ups and cool juice for Lou-Anne. Marmalade found a warm patch on the step and went back to sleep.

At last Omi called them in.

The dough had doubled in size.

M’Pofo stared. “It grew!”

“It’s magic,” said Kiera.

“It’s yeast,” said Omi.

“It is delicious science,” Lou-Anne said.

They shaped the dough into round buns and placed them neatly on baking trays.

Then Omi mixed flour and water into a smooth paste and spooned it into a small piping bag.

“Would you like to do the crosses, Lou-Anne?”

“Yes please,” said Lou-Anne.

Very carefully, she piped a cross onto each bun.

Vakawu asked if he could do one. His cross looked more like a squashed spider, but Omi said it added character.

When the trays went into the oven, the whole kitchen filled with the most wonderful smell. Warm spice, sweet fruit, and fresh bread floated through the house and out into the garden.

Everyone sat very still.

Even Ubejane looked dreamy.

When the buns were baked, Omi brushed them with a shiny glaze.

“At last,” said M’Pofo reverently.

They each got a warm bun.

Lou-Anne tore hers open, and steam curled into the air. She spread a little butter inside and took a bite.

“Oh, Omi,” she said, “these are amazing.”

Kiera’s ears twitched with happiness. Vakawu got butter on his nose. Batenga swallowed too quickly and had to sit quietly for a moment. Nuru and Buhala each asked for another half.

Ubejane chewed thoughtfully. “I admit it,” he said. “These are excellent.”

M’Pofo had finished his first bun in two bites. “I was correct earlier,” he said. “I do need twelve.”

Marmalade sniffed a small piece, nibbled it politely, and then looked as though he approved of the smell more than the raisins.

Lou-Anne smiled at all her friends around the table. The kitchen was warm, the buns were soft and sweet, and everyone looked happy.

“This,” she said, “is what baking is for.”

Omi nodded. “Not just for eating. For sharing.”

And from then on, whenever the air turned cool and the smell of spice drifted from Omi’s kitchen, Lou-Anne and her friends knew it was time to gather round, be patient, and make hot cross buns together.