This is a guest post from Dani at The Adventure Bite! A special thanks goes to Dani for sharing her recipe with us this week while I’m on vacation! Dani blogs with her husband Kevin and together they share delicious recipes for both food and beer! Two things I love! They’re also launching a new tool for bloggers called The Blog Buddy – its goal is to help bloggers organize and schedule their blogging life. If you’d like to learn more about Dani, her blog or The Blog Buddy… check them out on the web or Facebook!
My grandma is an amazing lady. As far back as I can remember she has been stuffing us full of delicious homemade love filled goodness at every chance she can get. While I was a kid she worked tirelessly running the kitchen at her local middle school. Rising to get to school by 3 a.m. she ran a tight ship at the school and at home.
Many Christmases we would pack up the car and drive what seemed like eternity to a young child (about 14 hours not including bathroom breaks) to their Southern California home. We would drive up and up the windy roads, arriving sometime in the dark of night. Dad would carry us inside in our half asleep states, snuggle us into bed and we would pass out with smiles on our faces for what we knew would come in the morning.
Early risers were rewarded at grandma’s house. The smell of cooking cinnamon rolls would waft down the long carpeted hallway, sneaking behind the pocket doors that helped to separate the house into long wings. If you were early enough you could catch grandma sleepily carrying grandpas coffee to him in bed and crawl up between the two to snuggle until the yeasty rolls had finished cooking.
And then leap out of said bed with excitement as the timer sounded, always to the scolding of grandpa who feared that his bare skin would soon be scalded with steaming hot coffee. But he never complained too long as he too soon wandered out as we sat up at the breakfast bar with cups of hot cocoa and steaming hot cinnamon rolls about as big as any kid could ever dream of before us.
Swirls of cinnamon sugar, butter and nuts melded into fluffy warm layers of dough. The dough was not cloyingly sweet as most cinnamon rolls are but denser, almost like fresh hot bread dough but softer. Sweet glaze dripped from the side coating our fingers and our faces with warm sticky sugar.
While we ate grandma would set to work cooking up eggs and bacon, hashbrowns and pancakes. More food than any of us could ever need or comfortably eat. Oh but we would valiantly try.
Mugs of hot coffee and tall glasses of orange juice would fill the table and drowsy late comers would drag themselves out of bed just in time. And the cinnamon rolls? Oh they were there too. Grandma always made sure the late risers had plenty…still warm and soft and perfect to dunk in your coffee…but she and I both knew that the early bird always gets the worm….or in this case the perfect cinnamon roll.