More blueberry buns! (a poem)

I don’t make these very often, so it always feel like an Occasion. I got so exited that I took a bunch of pictures, but then I turns out I already blogged here about the process (you can perhaps forgive my memory lapse given that it was almost three years ago!).

Since I have included the pictures already in this post, I will take the liberty of writ out the steps in poetic form instead:

Snatch a round wad of fresh, fresh, fresh, dough / That’s already had sev’ral hours to grow;
Roll it out pancake-flat and round / With two tablespoons of blue-filling crowned;
Fold it tight-closed like half of a moon / Fingertips pounce upon’t to form a cocoon.
Peel it on up from its bed on the table / pinching as tight as your fingers are able;
Pinch and pinch and pinch some more / Lest blueberry filling sploosh out on the floor;
When the pinching time’s fully done / Lie it so gently next to your last bun;
Now if, on the pan, a bun should crack open / Pinch ever more tightly and start in to hopin’
Pinch one more time when all are at ready / Brushing with egg, your painting-hand steady,
Sprinkle with sugar a bit oversized / That all of your bun-dreams may be realized.
Now toast them all gently at three-fifty degrees / Half an hour, and beware of “burnt-hue disease.”
Now cool on a rack and keep off grubby paws / For “Filling is Hot” comes with no escape clause.
For ten to fifteen you will be forced to wait / But the reward for patience is sure to elate…
As your teeth sink with joy in the prize that you’ve won / Your very own homemade blueberry bun!