Okay, so my mom sent me some recipes…This is so wonderful and awesome, because in my house growing up the kitchen was filled with love. It was THE place to be, and my mom encouraged me to experiment (I even have the old cookbook that I used to flip through when I was a kid, and later used to get my feet wet with cooking).
BUT my mom is blessed two-fold being both a born cook and a born baker…I am not. While we both can eyeball ingredients and adjust on the fly…and we can both SMELL when something is done…she can FEEL when dough is ready. I can’t.
I’ve always been too impatient for yeast based breads and cakes. I’m a “what IS cool?”, “what IS lukewarm?” kinda gal, and I always err on the side of “OH GET ON WITH IT ALREADY” rather than making sure my yeast is safe and warm (not hot and dead or cold and asleep).
So this morning, CHRISTMAS MORNING, I decide to make my grandmother’s cinnamon rolls…a recipe passed down from my mom. I used to make it with her, and she let me shape the dough remainders into little men and flowers and such, and she let me help sprinkle on the cinnamon and sugar.
It looked so easy.
I was mistaken.
Like I said, mom is a natural born baker…so when she says things like, “put 2 packages of yeast in 1/4 cup of water” I start hyperventilating. I don’t HAVE packages, I have a jar of yeast! HOT WATER? COLD WATER? LUKEWARM??? Do I stir in the yeast? Do I just let it sit? BAH!!!!!
Then it gets better, she tells me to stir in the milk mixture that has cooled (okay, cool-ish, I just couldn’t wait any more) in with the eggs…and add flour (6 to 8 cups? That is like 2 cups of failure waiting for me right there!) but never once mentions the yeast again!
WHA?! IS THE YEAST FOR AMBIANCE?!?!
Thankfully, the dough came together at cup number 7, after it nearly took out my mixer by crawling UP the beaters and almost getting into the machinery at cup 5. Now it is perched on top of my stove waiting for me to roll it out into a sheet and sprinkle it with cinnamon and sugar.
Wish me luck!