Butter, sugar and therapeutic violence

In the Time Before, I worked in London several times a week. I’d set out in the morning in proper shoes, and clothes that actually had to be ironed, and travel on a TRAIN with PEOPLE.

In those long-ago days, I’d sometimes stop off near the station on the way home and pick up some very posh pastries. I’m (a) tight, (b) a feeder and (c) a fan of Too Good To Go, so the chance to acquire a bargain, prevent food waste and delight the children made for a winning combination.


One day, I brought home kouign amann - buttery pieces of heaven and butter and sugar and more butter and caramelised sugar. My two boys fell in love at first bite, and a weekly-ish tradition was born.


Six weeks after I last set foot on a train, due to a combination of flu/COVID/notquitesure and lockdown, withdrawal symptoms were setting in. I googled ‘kouign amann online’ and found, not purchasing options, but recipes.

Nah, I thought. I like baking, but am strictly of the ‘eh, it’ll taste OK. Probably’ school.

Precision, patience and perfection - and, let’s be honest, pastry - are Not Things in my kitchen. And yet, the idea persisted.

A long, featureless Saturday loomed. The boys seized on my passing mention. Supplies were reviewed, and a plan was made.

The mix was surprisingly simple; I took charge of the dough, while the boys grabbed rolling pins and set about the butter (I had suggested we might just try mixing it into a paste before spreading, but this was rejected as heresy). Ten minutes of therapeutic violence later, we had dough, a commendably flat rectangle of butter, and only one bashed thumb.

From there on in, it was just rolling and folding and resting and more rolling and folding and resting, until finally (after they were in bed; I mis-read the recipe and missed the final hour’s rest) it was time to bake.

The results, I must admit, weren’t perfect - a few caught in the oven - but provided us with Time Before-style breakfasts for a couple of days, kept us busy for a whole afternoon and left us feeling absurdly proud of ourselves. Not for every day - but definitely for repeating.