Rimutaka Prison and Good Bitches Baking charity complete a trial where bakers teach prisoners how to bake food for the Women's Refuge.

Baking a chocolate cake from scratch is a science and an art.

There's the steps you follow, the precise measurements and temperatures. But there's also a gut instinct. That intuition when the mixture is too dry, or it needs a couple more minutes.

But at its heart baking is about sharing. It's about spreading a little kindness.

For volunteers at Good Bitches Baking (GBB), that's what we do.

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And, now, it's what the inmates of villas one and three at Upper Hutt's Rimutaka Prison's self-care units do.

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF A group of volunteers from Good Bitches Baking carry the baking back out of the prison, ready for delivery to women's refuges in the Wellington region.

STEP ONE: GETTING STARTED

Preheat the oven to 160C and line a 22cm round tin. Get out all your bowls, utensils and ingredients.

It's week one, and we nervously gather in front of an imposing wire fence.

For a group of women who like to bake, prisons are a foreign place.

But here we are, about to walk into Rimutaka Prison and teach the skill to inmates. That baking will then go to women's refuges in the Wellington region.

GBB was started four years ago by Nicole Murray and Marie Fitzpatrick, with the aim of spreading sweetness to people having a hard time. Fast forward, and today there are 17 branches nationwide with about 1600 volunteers sending out about 1000 boxes of baking a month to 135 recipients, which include hospices, children's hospital wards, and refuges.

"We kind of decided we needed to save the world with baking," Fitzpatrick says with a laugh.

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF Good Bitches Baking co-founder Marie Fitzpatrick says volunteers leaped at the chance to be involved.

Now, the mission is shifting towards fostering and spreading kindness. And that's where prisons come in.

Murray says GBB started to spread kindness, but then realised it had an "amazing impact" on the volunteers as well. She began to wonder about ways to foster kindness, and prisons seemed a natural fit.

"If you give people more opportunities to be kind, they'd probably take it."

For the volunteers, when you receive a call to teach prisoners to bake, it's a little daunting. Add in the forms, checks, and training for Corrections and it's even more so. To even step inside we had to learn how to avoid being manipulated and what to do if you're taken hostage.

But Fitzpatrick says, when they put out the call, the response was overwhelming.

The GBB crew join the ranks of 1700 prison volunteers nationwide. In 2016-17 volunteers made 18,000 visits, working with prisoners on everything from literacy and numeracy through to life skills, hobbies, and cultural and religious services.

The role of volunteers is crucial in helping prisoners prepare for life outside, says Corrections' director offender employment and reintegration, Stephen Cunningham.

"They help prisoners learn skills, which can help them gain employment and support themselves on their release, stay connected with their communities and provide a positive support network. Ultimately, this helps reduce the likelihood of them reoffending and keeps our communities safe."

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF Volunteer Izzi Lithgow helps men through a recipe.

STEP TWO: MIXING TOGETHER

In separate bowls sift together the dry and wet ingredients. Make a well in the middle of the dry ingredients and slowly add the wet, stirring to combine, then mix in the oil stopping when the batter is smooth.

Inside the wire, several of us are armed with radios and shown where the panic button is.

Through security-controlled doors we're inside the prison, awkwardly facing a group of prisoners who are bleary eyed after finishing 12 hours at work in the small hours.

In the self-care villa there are no cameras, no guards. Just a group of women, a box of ingredients, and a kitchen.

And it's easy to forget you're in prison – the living room is tidy, with a simple kitchen and wood panelling. Washing dries on lines and little gardens grow vegetables and herbs. Pūkeko wander across the green grass.

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF In self-care, the men must cater for themselves, including doing their own washing and cooking.

But just across the way is the fence bordering the main prison. Knives, their points flattened, are kept in a safe.

These units are designed as a stepping stone to the outside for prisoners who have been inside for a long time.

Leadership expert Dr Paul Wood – a former inmate who once resided in a self-care unit – explains, "they'll be at the end of the bell-curve in terms of longest sentences".

These are the trusted prisoners. They have served at least a third of their sentence, completed rehabilitation programmes, are minimum security, and are working outside the wire. Of about 10,100 inmates nationally, there are 550 in self-care.

Here, they must run their lives: they pay board, buy their clothes and do their own washing, and cooking. They get about $60 a week for food from Corrections.

We don't ask why they're here. Instead, we help them through the first recipe. For many of these guys, basic skills like properly measuring a cup of flour have to be taught – but they're happy to learn.

And we talk about what we do in the community, and that their baking is going to women's refuges.

One baker, Kahu*, nervously asks if the women know who it's coming from – they do.

Biscuits ready, we divvy up the bounty, filling two boxes for the refuges and leaving some aside for the men to try later. They reach over and grab their biscuits, shifting more into the boxes. The women need it more, they say.

And then, we ask them to write a note to accompany the baking. What would they want to hear if they were in the women's shoes, we ask.

Kahu dictates: "After every dark night, there's a bright tomorrow."

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF The points of knives in the self-care villas have been blunted.

STEP THREE: LET'S GET BAKING

Bake for 30-35 minutes until the cake springs back when gently pressed in the centre. Remove from oven and leave in tin to cool for 15 minutes before turning onto a rack to cool completely.

It's week three, and this week's creation is lemon Weet-Bix slice and the bowls and spoons are already laid out, the oven pre-heating.

We chat about our weeks as we dive into the recipe.

Sam* is articulate and quietly spoken as he describes the programme. "It takes me back, as a kid growing up with my grandmother. It brings me a lot of joy."

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF A volunteer works with the men.

Each week, they're ready to go as the GBB team walks up, he says. "It's a pretty good sight. They've always got a smile on their faces, ready to go. And then we just buckle down."

The men are learning new skills, but the overall purpose is giving back.

"We always talk about how we're putting a smile on other people's faces and how we can give ... I hope this continues after the six weeks. They love it, I love it and I know the people that are receiving the goods that we make are loving it as well."

When he goes home he wants to pass the skills on to his son. "He can use it when he gets older and pass it on to his kids."

SUPPLIED The men had to write notes to accompany the baking to Womens' Refuges.

This week's note is carefully written out: "Never give up, always hold your head up high. There are good people out there that care and that have a heart for you. Be proud of who you are, stay humble."

The slice is almost done, but first one of the guys grabs his jar of hundreds and thousands. With a flourish the rainbow colours are sprinkled across the slice. For the kids, he explains with a beaming grin.

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF Izzi Lithgow helps a prisoner slice up a lemon Weetbix slice in the third week of the programme.

STEP FOUR: ICING ON THE CAKE

While the cake cools, put icing ingredients into a saucepan and melt over low heat, stirring constantly. Allow to cool to a spreadable consistency and apply liberally to the cake. Decorate with sprinkles or nuts.

For these guys, life in the self-care units is about getting ready for life in the community.

Sam works 12-hour shifts in a timber yard. "It puts a smile on my face and I know it puts a smile on my family's face to be able to reintegrate," he says.

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF Basic skills like how to properly measure a cup of flour were taught to the prisoners.

Wood says that stepping stone to the outside world is vital, and volunteer programmes play an important part in that process.

"You're giving them hope that they can be accepted back into the community, that they won't be judged."

And it's about changing their perceptions of themselves, he says.

"You're shifting their sense of self-worth away from 'I'm a completely bad person who there's no hope for ... For a lot of them this will be the first positive thing they have done for someone else."

Some would question why prisoners should be given the chance to go outside the wire, or learn to bake.

Wood says people have emotional reactions to criminals and want retribution. But we need to decide what prison is for: punishment or rehabilitation.

"If an ex-prisoner ends up as your neighbour, would you want them to be someone who has learnt how to consider others, put themselves in others' shoes, and do things for the benefit of others?

"Or would you prefer someone who has come straight out of the current prison environment where survival necessitates learning not to demonstrate anything that could be perceived as weakness – including consideration for others, kindness, empathy, and compassion.

"I know who I'd prefer in my neighbourhood."

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF A completed cake is taken out of the oven to cool.

Melanie Canton, Corrections' principal adviser rehabilitation and learning at Arohata and Rimutaka prisons, says the sessions have been "overwhelmingly positive" for the men.

"As well as the opportunity to learn some new skills, they genuinely appreciated the time the volunteers gave them, and the opportunity to give something back to the community. Some of the men also took the opportunity to bake for the community outside of the baking initiative."

At the Women's Refuge, it's been a learning experience as well.

Lower Hutt manager Philippa Wells says many of the women were surprised, but pleased, to hear where the baking was coming from.

But for some, they didn't want to even taste it. That's allowed them to talk to the women about their feelings towards men, she says.

"It can be quite confronting for them ... We challenge them to see it from a different perspective. To see it as someone making changes in their life."

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF Hugs goodbye marked the end of the programme.

STEP FIVE: SAVOUR THE MOMENT

Slice up the cake and share it with others.

The final week means one thing: chocolate cake.

When we arrive Sam points us proudly to the fridge – there's a giant cheesecake ready to go. Something extra he's whipped up for the women.

Murray says the trial has gone better than she could have hoped. "Beyond expectations, actually, and I had pretty high hopes."

The feedback from the men in particular has been overwhelming, she says.

The best part was how the men embraced where the baking was going, and why. "I was expecting to have to spoon-feed that message, but they got it so instinctively ... Our objective of being able to teach these men the importance of kindness and how good it feels to be kind, I absolutely feel we have achieved that objective."

SUPPLIED One of the final notes from the inmates.

The volunteers have been changed too, thinking of the prisoners as people who have done something bad, rather than bad people, she says.

Now, the aim is to make it continue. The hope is to get funding to roll it out to other prisons nationally.

Canton says once Corrections has evaluated the programme they will look at running it at further sites case by case.

It's time to cut the cake and share it before, lumps in our throats, we hug the men goodbye.

We walk back through the wire, carrying our precious cargo for delivery. We carry a final note. "You deserve every happiness that will present itself on your doorstep. Take it with open arms, life is short, it has been a privallage [sic] and honour to cook for yous."

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF A thank-you from one of the men. The traditional Samoan drawing depicts the women in the community, following a road into the prison to the self-care units, and the men being able to follow the road back into the community.

We also carry a traditional Samoan drawing Fetu* has drawn to say thank you.

He explained its story before we left: the women out in the community, following a road into the prison and the self-care units, where the men live and can follow that road back into the community.

* Names of prisoners have been changed

MAKE THE CHOCOLATE CAKE

ROBERT KITCHIN/STUFF One of the chocolate cakes made by the prisoners in the final week of Prison Bake.

Wet ingredients

2 tsp instant coffee

1 tsp vinegar

1 tsp vanilla essence

2 tbs cocoa

1 cup + 2 tbs hot water

Dry ingredients

1+1/2 cups plain flour

1 cup brown sugar

1 tsp baking soda

1/3 cup cocoa

1/2tsp salt

1/3 cup vegetable oil

Icing

1 cup icing sugar

50 grams butter or margarine

3 tbs cocoa

1 tbs water

Pinch of salt

1 tsp vanilla essence

Katie Townshend is a Wellington news director for Stuff, and a Good Bitch.