Bussolai Buranei — Rings and Slips of Burano
Fisher-wives' golden S's and O's, dunked in whatever's close.
Burano's wives made these butter biscuits in batches, packed them into tins for their husbands' boats — something sweet that wouldn't crumble in a pocket, wouldn't go stale in salt air. The S and O shapes are old Venetian shorthand for luck and eternity. We dunk ours in Fragolino or Vin Santo, or coffee if it's Tuesday morning and the grappa's still sleeping.
How to Cook It
- 01
Cream butter and sugar into submission
Beat softened butter and caster sugar together in a bowl — use a wooden spoon or electric mixer — until pale, fluffy, and the texture of wet sand. You want air trapped in there; that's what makes these biscuits snap, not crumble. This takes about 3 minutes by hand, 2 by machine.
~3 min - 02
Add yolks, vanilla, and grappa
Add egg yolks one at a time, beating gently after each one. Pour in the vanilla and grappa. The mixture will look split and loose — that's normal. Keep stirring until it comes back together into a smooth, glossy paste.
~4 min - 03
Fold in flour and salt
Sift flour and salt into the bowl. Fold with a spatula — don't beat — until just combined. You'll have a thick, soft dough that's pliable but not sticky. If it's too loose, dust with a little more flour. If it's too stiff, warm your hands and work it gently.
~3 min - 04
Pipe into S's and O's
Fit a piping bag with a 1cm plain nozzle. Pipe S-shapes and rings (or just splodges if you're honest) onto baking paper, leaving 2cm between each. The dough should hold its shape without running. Work quickly — the warmth of your hands will soften it. If it starts to slip, chill the piping bag for 5 minutes.
~8 min - 05
Bake pale gold
Preheat oven to 180°C. Bake for 10–12 minutes until the edges are barely golden and the tops are still pale cream — they'll firm up as they cool. You're not looking for brown; you're looking for 'still warm enough to bend slightly.' Pull them out just before you think they're done.
~12 min - 06
Cool on the tray
Leave biscuits on the baking paper for 2 minutes, then transfer to a cooling rack with a butter knife. They'll crisp completely as they cool. Once cold, they'll snap cleanly. Store in an airtight tin — they'll keep for a week, though they rarely last that long.
~10 min
“Pile them into a small dish — a Murano glass bowl if you have one, or a tin if you're proper about it. Let guests pick. The biscuits are the point; they don't need a plate. A small glass of Fragolino or Vin Santo sits alongside, or a cup of strong coffee. That's the whole thing.”
First bite: butter and vanilla hit you like a warm breeze, then the grappa whispers through. Crisp snap — the flour's doing its job. As you dunk into wine or coffee, the biscuit softens just enough to release all that vanilla and sugar. By the last bite, you're sticky-fingered and happy, tasting the faint brine of sea salt underneath. Proper comfort.
Swap butter for vegan butter (same weight), use aquafaba (3 tbsp + 1 tsp cornstarch whisked to foam) instead of egg yolks, keep the vanilla and grappa exactly as is. The aquafaba won't trap quite as much air — your biscuits will be slightly denser, less shattered, more biscotti-like — but they'll still crisp beautifully and taste buttery and grappa-warm. Pipe and bake identically. Dunking is where they shine in this version too.
Sweet, grapey, local — made right here, pours like liquid berries. Dunking gold.
Amber, nutty, warm. The classic choice; biscuit softens into it perfectly.
Cut the sweetness, brighten the vanilla, turn the grappa into a ghost note. Morning or evening, this is the real dunking medium.
- ·Don't overmix once the flour goes in — you want tender biscuits, not tough ones. Fold like you mean it, but stop as soon as you can't see any flour.
- ·If your piping is wonky, it doesn't matter — even lumps bake into something good. Fisher-wives didn't fuss; neither should you.
- ·Grappa is non-negotiable. It's not about getting drunk; it's about that floral, peppery note that makes you taste the vanilla more clearly. Use a proper grappa from a distillery, not the industrial bottle.
Show us yours.
Cooked this dish? Snap a photo, share it here. No filter, no fuss — the good, the wonky, the accidentally set-fire-to.
Sign in to share your photo of this dish.
No one's cooked this yet — be the first.