Recipe Box Project

When I first found the recipe for Pope Ladies in the Recipe Box, I giggled at the name, then I read the description: 'traditional fare for New Year's Day,' and I couldn't stop giggling because obviously these were some kind of joke made up by Betty Crocker, right? Wrong. I know it's too late for you to make your own Pope Ladies for THIS New Year's Day, but since they are also traditionally served on Lady Day (March 25, the day Mary found out she was pregnant), I figured I'd give you a head start on all your Lady Day preparations.

Pope Ladies, as it turns out, originate from St Albans, a small town in Hertfordshire, England. Apparently, ever since medieval times, people in St Albans have been eating these buns each year on 1 January and 25 March. There are conflicting stories as to how they came about: one legend says that a noblewoman and her group of attendants were lost in the forest when they came upon a monastery in St Albans- by way of thanks to the monks who saved her, the noblewoman gave them a substantial monetary reward, which they used to bake lady-shaped rolls to feed the poor. Since they were monks, the rolls became known as 'pope ladies.'

This is literally the diagram I had to follow along with the directions. For once i think mine came out better than the picture!

An ok story, but it doesn't really do much to explain the name, which is why I prefer to believe the other story (though I'm quite sure Eleanor, a devout Catholic, would probably not). The second version of the story states that the rolls are named for Pope Joan, an apocryphal and (probably) mythical female pope born in 818AD. Although it's now thought that Joan was a myth, the legend said that she was only discovered to be a women when she stopped in the middle of a parade to give birth, and was shortly thereafter murdered because of it. This legend first gained traction in the 1200s, roughly the same time as Pope Ladies came about, so it's also thought they might have Joan to thank for their name.

Either way, this particular batch of Pope Ladies is not quite made in the traditional manner- usually they would be made with scalded milk, not sour cream and usually they would have eyes made from currants and a tiny dough nose. But I was making these while drinking a prosecco cocktail last night shortly before heading out to a pub with Judson and friends and I completely forgot the faces until they were in the oven. Oops.

These are best straight from the oven, when the outside is crusty and firm and the interior is soft and plush, but they reheat well and are pretty good at treating a hangover as well. The dough is forgiving and easy to work with, and if, for some reason, you have the willpower to make food in your kitchen today, I'd recommend you whip yourself up a batch of Pope Ladies and then call all your hungover friends to come eat them with you while you tell them stories about medieval feminist popes. If your friends are anything like mine, they... probably won't be too surprised.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. They're absolutely perfect when fresh from the oven, but not quite as good when reheated so I'm knocking off a spoon because they need to be eaten promptly.

one year ago: crazy crust apple pie
two years ago: happy new year!

The recipe:

Pope Ladies

the directions:

Dissolve yeast in water in mixing bowl, then set aside.
Heat sour cream over very low heat just until it melts and is lukewarm.
Add warm sour cream, butter, sugar, salt, ONLY ONE egg and 1 cup of flour to yeast mixture.
Beat until smooth.
Add remaining 2 cups of flour and mix until dough comes away from the sides of the bowl.
Knead dough on a well-floured surface until smooth, about 10 minutes (alternatively, if you have a dough hook for your mixer, beat on very low speed for approximately 3 minutes).
Grease the mixing bowl, put dough back into it and turn once so greased side is facing up.
Cover tightly and put in a very warm place to rise 1 hour (or if you live in a drafty Scottish flat, up to overnight).
When dough has doubled in size, punch down and form your Pope Ladies:
Preheat oven to 190C/375F and grease 2 baking sheets.
Divide dough into 12 pieces.
Form half of each piece into an oval-shaped body approximately 4 inches long, lay on baking sheet.
Divide remaining piece of dough in half again and roll one piece into a long thin snake approximately 4 inches long.
Lay this piece in a U-shape around one end of the 'body' to form arms.
Take remaining piece of dough and form into a ball for the head.
Place head ahove arms body on your baking sheet (they'll rise enough in the oven to attach as long as they are touching).
Repeat until you are out of dough, keeping Pope Ladies spaced apart at least 3 inches on your baking sheet.
Beat remaining egg with a fork and brush over the ladies, taking care to avoid large drips.
Bake 12-15 minutes until golden brown.

Serve warm, best straight from the oven.

the ingredients:

2 ¼ tsp active dry yeast
¼ c warm water
1 c sour cream
2 tbsp butter
8 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
2 eggs
3 c flour, divided

First of all: I AM ABOUT TO SHARE WITH YOU A RECIPE FOR BREAKFAST FOOD SOAKED IN BUTTER.

Ok, now that we're clear on that, here's the back story. When my parents were first married, long before I was born, they lived in South Georgia while my dad finished his undergrad degree. For awhile, they lived with my great-great-Aunt Gladys, in a wee farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. It was their time living near her that taught my mom to like tomatoes (warm and fresh from the vine), asparagus, and probably a lot of other Georgia produce.

By the time I was born, Aunt Gladys was quite old (she was, remember, my grandmother's aunt), but we would go up to Georgia to visit her every year or so. Whenever we went, she would set me loose in her yard with a pecan picker-- basically a tiny cage on a stick that you could use to pick up the pecans that fell from the trees without bending over. Her home was shrouded with pecan trees that I remember being taller than an office building, and in the fall the ground underneath them would be thick with nuts. I'd gather shoeboxes full of pecans-- paint buckets full!-- and we'd eat them for snacks all year round, give them as Christmas gifts, and bake all kinds of delicious things with them. (One time, in a story I'm not sure we ever told her, my brother and I were so hungry for pecans while my mom was at the store that we couldn't wait for her to come home and tell us where the nut cracker was, so we spent the afternoon on the kitchen linoleum, shattering pecans with my brother's baseball and gathering up the shell remnants to avoid getting caught.)

Ever since then, in the many years I lived in Georgia, I could never drive past a rural general store promising 'papershell' pecans. I've been duped into buying my fair share of (probably imported) mediocre pecans at exorbitant prices, but I've never tasted pecans as good as the ones that grew on Aunt Gladys' trees.

Gladys probably never knew Eleanor well (linked, as they were, only through Gladys' great-nephew and Eleanor's daughter), but I think that based on the number of recipes featuring incredibly Southern ingredients I've found in the box, it's a safe bet that they probably had a fair amount of overlap in their cooking repertoires-- at least when it comes to desserts.

Now, as I mentioned, these breakfast rolls are soaked in butter, studded with pecans, and coated in a sticky brown sugar glaze. Not sold yet? How about this: it's a one-bowl recipe and you don't even have to use a mixer. You can even make these on a weeknight (I did) and still be in bed by the time the sun sets at 11:30pm.

If you have Georgia pecans, they'll be even better, but don't let it stop you if not: these are decadent and heavenly, and so worth making as a reward for your coworkers for making it through another week of madness. There's nothing particularly 'butterscotch' about them, but they pair great with coffee (or tea!) and I can personally vouch that they are just as good the second day as they were the first.