Bread of the Dead

Poor Johnny is still reeling after our latest culinary expedition ~ well, the poor love would be, given that he spent half the journey stuffed into my trunk to avoid the ghastly Customs and Excise people (Im all for keeping illegal immigrants out ~ Goddess knows, we have far too many people in poor old Blighty ~ but really, some of these passport stampers have delusions of importance.) We have just returned from a two-month tripette round the United States, cooking for an ambassadorial fact-finding mission (read glorified piss-up at the tax payers expense!) Few things would normally induce me to leave the peace of Suffolk to loiter about the land for whom McDonalds is a cuisine rather than a crime against nature and good taste, but my dear old school chum Bunty Bogbrush (or the Honourable Lady Lavinia Chalfont St Giles, as the ambassador is now) begged me to provide her with some decent nosh and offered the use of her diplomatic baggage for Johnny. Part of the official glad-handing took us south of the border into Mexico, where we stayed at the hacienda of some local bigwig. Naturally I was in the kitchen for most of it, where I met with the resident cook ~ an emaciated harpy called Katarina de Calavera with an acid tongue and a gift for baking. Unusually she took to Johnny instantly, and whilst she fondled my old moggie we knocked back the tequila and she explained the mountains of bread that filled her beautiful kitchen. She was, it transpired, making preparations for Dia de Los Muertos, their October festival for honouring the dead. Whilst at the same time of year as Samhain, there is no direct connection ~ its just one of those curious shared urges between diverse cultures. The pan de muerto (bread of the dead) is made to be shared at the graveside with both living and dead celebrants. Her mountain of bread was to be used by the whole house, from the humble chambermaids up to the rich grandees. Katarinas was an old family recipe (it seems nearly everyone has their regional variation on the receipt), and her kin favoured shaping the bread into the shape of rabbits. For the Aztecs, the rabbit was a symbol of drunkenness, particularly brought about by one of their sacred plant brews. Under instruction, I made my own rabbit-bread to go on the ofrenda (altar) for the dead. Despite her overt Catholicism, Katarina dedicated her breads to Mictecacihuatl (and no, after all that tequila I couldnt work out how to pronounce the name of the goddess of bones either).

INGREDIENTS
cup milk cup butter cup sugar 2 teaspoons sugar teaspoon cinnamon teaspoon anise seed

 teaspoon salt Dry yeast cup very warm water 2 eggs 3 cups all-purpose flour

METHOD Boil the milk then remove from heat and stir in the butter, sugar and salt. Mix yeast with warm water until dissolved and let stand 5 minutes, before adding to the milk. Separate the yolk and white of one egg. Add the yolk to the yeast mixture, but save the white for later. Then add flour to the yeast and egg, kneading to dough. Leave it to stand in a covered bowl for about 90 minutes. While it stands, burn some copal gum incense, down a glass of tequila (or meths, it amounts to much the same thing) and speak the name of the unpronounceable goddess.

Mrs de Calavera had a rabbit-shaped cutter that she used to shape the bread. Ive not seen a large rabbit cutter in this country (just the little biscuit ones, though I suppose theyd do for making little buns), so this is where I have been getting artistic and shaping the bread bunny by hand. Cover the rabbit with a towel and let the dough rise for 30 minutes ~ time enough for a little tipple and a cheroot, tobacco being sacred to the Aztecs. In a clean bowl, mix anise seed, cinnamon and 2 teaspoons sugar together. In a third bowl, beat the egg white lightly (youre not making meringues, so dont go mental!) Brush top of bread with egg white and sprinkle with sugar mixture. Bake at 350 degrees for 35 minutes. Marigolds are sacred to this festival, and I have introduced a variation to the receipt by adding a handful of petals to the dough. Tastes wonderful with a Mexican stew (which Ill tell you about some other time).