Last night after I went grocery shopping, I decided to make a batch of The Pioneer Woman’s Cinnamon Rolls. If you’ve never made them, your arteries are lucky. They have more butter than movie theater pop-corn, and more sugar than the candy store; however, they are worth every last calorie, especially if you only make them once a year. So I sat vigil waiting for my dough to rise and my timer to ding. It was 12:30 am as I sat drooling over my last pan of sweetness. I ate one, and wouldn’t you know, the first thing my kids said this morning was, “Who ate a cinnamon roll?”
I had seven pans of rolls and their internal radar, controlled by their sweet-tooth, ratted me out!
Since my kitchen was a disaster this morning, I figured I may as well keep baking.
I promise this place was clean the day before. My countertops were EMPTY. I just treated them with a blend of mineral oil and beeswax to keep them waterproof. It’s disturbing to think I can do this much damage in less than twenty-four hours.
I fear I’ll gain ten pounds by the time Christmas comes. It’s just that I really don’t trust my cooking, so for the sake of my neighbors, I must try everything.
I’ll make the sacrifice. 😉
Are you baking anything special for the holidays?