Grandma's Naughty Cinnamon Balls

Every Friday afternoon, my mom used to come over.

She'd have a load of groceries for us (mostly toilet paper), jokes she'd clipped out of the newspaper for the kids*, and leftovers for the dog.  She'd take over the couch, pretend to be mystified by the Tivo remote, then unerringly find Oprah and crank the volume up.  She'd set packages of whatever junk food was on special that week out on the counter, with neat block letters in colored pens labeling which grandkid got the gummy worms, and who got the Oreos.  She'd frown as I sat glued to my laptop, occasionally nodding and saying "um hm", frustrated that I was not nearly as concerned as I should be about Celine Dion, then dispense advice to my husband when he got in from work. We'd escape to the movies, come home and find her with Nick at Nite blaring, the dog curled up on the rug by her feet, and the cat staring balefully at us from his perch by her head.

Every Saturday morning, she'd make these.

My son would practically run to the breakfast table, my daughter would immediately put a pile of them on her plate, and my husband would sit down, pour a big glass of OJ, and shake his head.  "Grandma," he'd say, "you made the naughty cinnamon balls again! What are you trying to do to me?"

Then he'd take two.

Carpool Wars: Battle Brunch!

"Hi. Is Susan Rice available?

Um, an old classmate of hers actually, but I'm not calling about her donation to the capital campaign.  She's clearly been very busy and I'm sure she'll get around to mailing that in soon.  This is a diplomatic emergency and I'd like some UN peacekeepers, please.

Yes, I'll hold.

Susan?

Oh. Well, maybe you can help me. I'm afraid there've been some fairly serious voting irregularities here in Encino, and...

No, not Allepo.  Encino.  We've got a situation and it may be time to get Jimmy Carter involved.

Where do I even start? OK, first of all, there was this huge platter of bacon...

No, this wasn't a matter of cultural insensitivity to Muslims, it was a matter of bribing the electorate.

What's that? Oh, about five pounds.
Pecan wood smoked.

I know, right? Completely unfair tactics.
We were able to trace it back to an outside instigator from Maryland. She's a known bacon zealot, probably in your database there somewhere.

Ha! Of course there's none left that I can send you as documentation. The whole brunch was almost destabilized by fighting over the last few pieces.  Frankly, we were lucky there wasn't more bloodshed between these formerly friendly neighbors.

But that's not the big issue.
You see, the very integrity of Carpool Wars has been tarnished by a deliberate balloting miscount.  Somehow, everybody won again*.

Yes, I'll hold.

Mrs. Clinton?

So sorry to trouble you, but...
Ah ha. I see. More of diplomatic move, you say? Future in the state department?

You know, you could be right.
Thank you so much, Hillary. Good luck with Syria."

Battle Brunch really was one of the best Carpool Wars yet. Contestants each entered one savory and one sweet dish, without any further limitations.   Huge points for creativity, flavor and presentation all around.

But we still want someone impartial to count the votes next time**.

The savories:

Baked eggs with kale on Joe's Brick with Tom's Red Eye Gravy

Mascarpone scrambled eggs with fine herbs and garlic tomato toast

Mediterranean Poached eggs in tomato sauce with chickpeas and feta

Chicken Enchiladas

The sweets:

Sinful Sticky Cinnamon Buns

Banana Nut Muffins

Crepe Cake with Coffee Cream and Hazelnut Praline made with Brown Butter Crepes

Creme Brulee French Toast

Monkey see, Monkey pitch a hissy fit, Monkey do the dishes

It was a lazy Sunday morning, and I was feeling well rested, benevolent, practical, and hungry.   As I slouched into my comfiest pants and headed for the kitchen, these impulses combined into what I considered to be an excellent idea:  I would make a big breakfast for my beloved family. 

The benevolent part:
My dear husband was out running his little butt off in 85 degree heat for god know how many miles.   My growing son needed sustenance for a full day of preparing for his upcoming final exams.

And my darling daughter had recently returned from a three day camping trip with her class, sunburned, exhausted, and sporting a wicked head of matted frizz.


They deserved a home cooked meal, and damn it, I was going to give it to them.

The practical part:
I had a tub full of egg whites leftover from the Lemon Icebox Squares AND several tubes of refrigerated biscuits that my Mom had bought when they were on special at Ralph's (buy one, get one free, plus a coupon!)  I wouldn't even have to go to the store.

This translated into the following menu*:

• Egg white frittata with pancetta, scallions, crimini mushrooms and freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• Crispy smoked bacon
• Monkey Bread with cream cheese frosting

Almost bursting with the amount of goodwill I would be generating, I set to work.   My son strolls through a few minutes later.

Him (still in his pajamas at 10 am):  What are we doing today?
Me:  Um, how about studying?
Him (opening fridge door between us in clear sign that my answer is of negligible interest to him): We're out of grapes.  You need to buy some more grapes.

He leaves the room having grabbed the sports section and a handful of pretzels, leaving the open bag on the counter and the rest of the paper on the carpet.

I am slightly less delighted with my plan at this point, but still feeling mildly cheerful.   Then my daughter stomps into the kitchen.

Me:  Good morning, honey!  How did you sleep?
Her:  (mumble grumble mumble grumble snarl)
Me:  Well, that's nice.
Her  (Spying the cinnamon sugar and perking up immediately): What are you making?  Are you making cinnamon rolls?  Oh my god! (She is now screaming and jumping up and down) Mom's making THE CINNAMON ROLLS!!!

She runs into the other room, shrieking at her startled brother and grabbing him in a frenzied dance of glee.  He runs into the kitchen after her, and they both start yelling incomprehensibly at me in unison.

Me (maintaining a semblance of calm in the midst of my growing irritation):  No.  I am not making the cinnamon rolls.  They take too long.  I am making Monkey Bread.  It's really good.  You're going to love it, trust me.   Would either of you like to help me make it? 

Their faces fall.  His is almost comically disappointed, like someone stole his puppy.  Hers, however, is a red mask of fury.

Him (pleadingly): Can you at least make the ones like Grandma makes?  Those are easy, aren't they?
Her (almost blue in the face): It's not FAIR that we aren't having cinnamon rolls!  I HATE monkey bread!   WHY are you DOING this to me?!?**

I am completely bewildered about how I became the bad guy here, when I am, in fact, the benevolent, practical adult in the room.  I respond accordingly.

Me:  OK. Fine!  I will eat every last bite of the monkey bread myself, and give a little piece to Daddy.  You get NONE!  Now, GO AWAY!

They retreat.  I am now quite put out.   

After a few cleansing breaths, I continue snipping the dough and shaking the bag of cinnamon sugar energetically.  My daughter begins to hover around the periphery.


Her (now all sweetness and light): Can I help?
Me:  No.
Her:  Can I have a piece of the dough?
Me:  No.
Her: I'm sorry I yelled at you.
Me:  Still no.

I put the bread into the oven, and begin frying the bacon.  My son comes into the kitchen, takes a piece of bacon, and goes away again.

Me:  I saw that!

My husband comes back from his run.   He takes the ear buds out of his ears, grabs two pieces of bacon, sweats on the counter, and leaves.

Me:  I saw that!
My daughter:  Can I have some bacon?
Me:  No.

I start whipping the cream cheese frosting.  My daughter has set the table, fed the dog and the guinea pigs, and poured me a Diet Coke.

Her: Now can I help?
Me:  No.

The monkey bread comes out of the oven.   My husband emerges freshly showered and takes another slice of bacon.

Me:  I saw that!

I put the frittata in the oven to finish, turn the bread out, and glop on an enormous amount of frosting.  I am now being openly worshiped by everyone.  My sense of well-being and equanimity is fully restored.  Our family is gathered around the table, and I smile kindly upon them all.  Still, I make them wait an extra couple of minutes while I take a few photos.  Then I relent.

Me:  Go ahead.  And it's OK to eat with your fingers.  In fact, it's better that way.  And young lady?
Her (mouth full to bursting, and grinning at the same time);  Yesph?
Me:  You can help with the dishes.  While your brother does his math.

Monkey Bread
Adapted with awe from a recipe found by google search at this website.

1/2 c. sugar
2-3 Tbs. cinnamon
3 large or 4 small packages of refrigerated biscuits
1 c. packed brown sugar
3/4 cups (1 1/2 sticks) butter

Butter a large bundt or tube pan, and preheat the oven to 350.  Combine sugar and cinnamon in a large plastic bag and set aside.  Cut each biscuit into quarters, and drop 8-10 pieces at a time into the bag of cinnamon sugar.  Shake until well coated, then layer the pieces in the prepared pan.  Repeat with all of the biscuit pieces.  Set the pan aside.   Put the brown sugar and the butter into a small saucepan, and place over medium heat.  Stir as butter melts until combined, then boil mixture for one minute.   Allow to cool for another minute, then slowly pour over the biscuits in the pan.    Bake at 350 for 35 minutes, or until puffed up and golden brown on top.    Cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then invert onto a serving plate.    Top with cream cheese frosting, if desired.***

Cream Cheese Frosting

1/2 c. (1 stick) butter, softened
4 oz. (1/2 package) cream cheese, softened
1 1/2 c. powdered sugar
1-2 Tbs. milk or cream
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Combine butter and cream cheese with an electric mixture until well blended.  Add the powdered sugar and mix well.  Stir in the vanilla, and enough milk to make the frosting easily spreadable.   Drop by spoonfuls onto the warm bread.   Allow it to melt into the bread and add to the gooey goodness.  

* Hence, the hungry part.
** Pre-teen hormones are not our friend.  For example, I'd never even made Monkey Bread before, so how does she know she hates it? 
*** You know you desire it, so go ahead.

I think that last storm was my fault

Apparently, LA, too, has sinned*, and the wrath of the Lord hath brought down four storms in a row upon us. And we were sore afraid, and did quail in the face of the mud.

And lo, our repentance was great and genuine, and we did offer to bake up a batch of warm and gooey cinnamon rolls as a sign of our willingness to stay home and eat and be lazy instead of joining the foolish heathens going forth into the streets of brown and slushy water.

And the Lord was most pleased, and did cause a break in the deluge such that we could take the dog out to go pee.

But alas, we are imperfect mortals, and didst forget to saveth a cinnamon roll for the Lord.

And the Lord did cancel school**, so great was his fury.


Sacrificial Sinful Sticky Cinnamon Buns

Of all the things I learned to make in my Pro Chef class, these were far and away my family's favorite. Mine, too. I've included the yeast dough method, which you need to decide to make the day before, and the quick dough method, which you can whip up within an hour of deciding you are in need of redemption.

Follow these steps to make your rolls:

1. Make your dough, and set it aside.
2. Make the cinnamon filling and set it aside.
3. Get out a 13x9 rectangular pan, or two smaller round baking pans.

4. Make the caramel glaze. Pour it into the bottom of your baking pan, or if you are using two round pans, divide it between the two. Set the pans aside and preheat the oven to 375.

5. Roll out your dough on a well floured board into a rectangle about 16" by 13" and 1/3" thick. Trim edges if you need to in order to have a neat rectangle.

6. Spread the cinnamon filling over the dough using a knife or small spatula. Filling should go right to the edge on all but one short (13") side of the dough. This is the edge that will seal up the roll.

7. Roll the dough up like a jelly roll, starting at the other short end. Pinch the dough lightly to seal, and turn so the seal is on the bottom of the roll.

8. Using a well floured, sharp serrated knife, cut into 12 slices, slightly more than an inch thick.

9. Place the rolls, cut side down, in the pan(s) on top of the caramel glaze.
10. Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until golden brown.
11. While the rolls are baking, make the icing.
12. Remove from the oven and allow to cool in the pan for a couple of minutes, so the glaze will set. Carefully invert onto a serving platter. Glaze will be very hot and will dribble over the sides.

Don't worry if they don't come out in a perfect little formation...they're sticky buns and looks are the least of your worries!

13. To cement your goodliness in the sight of the Lord, drizzle vanilla icing over the rolls, and serve.


Sweet Roll Dough (yeast method)

1 pkg. dry yeast
3 Tbs. warm water (about 105 degrees)
1/2 c. whole milk, warmed to about 105 degrees
1/2 c. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 c. butter, melted
1 egg and 1 egg yolk, at room temperature
2 1/4 to 2 3/4 c. all purpose flour

Mix the warm water with 2 tsp. of the sugar in a small bowl, and sprinkle the yeast on top. Stir gently and let stand about a minute to dissolve. In a large mixing bowl, combine the warm milk, the rest of the sugar, the salt, the melted butter, the egg and the egg yolk. Beat well and add the yeast mixture. Add 1 cup of flour and beat until smooth and well blended. Add another 1 1/4 c. of flour and beat until dough holds together in a rough mass. Turn out onto a lightly floured board and knead for a minute or two. Rest 10 minutes. Resume kneading for 8-10 more minutes, gradually sprinkling on additional flour a tablespoon at a time if the dough is too sticky. Place in a greased bowl, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk. Punch down. Dough is now ready to be shaped and baked.

Buttermilk Sweet Roll Dough (quick method)

3 c. flour
3 Tbs. sugar
4 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1/4 c. butter, at room temperature, in small pieces
1 c. plus 2 Tbs. buttermilk

In a large mixing bowl, or in the food processor, whisk together the dry ingredients. Cut in butter so mixture resembles coarse flour-y crumbs. Stir in buttermilk and combine until mixture forms a soft dough.

Turn onto lightly floured board and knead gently just until dough is no longer sticky.



Cinnamon Filling

1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 c. (1 stick) butter, softened
1 c. dark brown sugar
1 Tbs. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. salt

Combine all ingredients in a mixer or food processor until creamy and well blended.

Caramel Glaze

1/4 c. butter
1 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. light corn syrup
1/2 c. whipping cream
1/2 tsp. salt

Boil all ingredients in small saucepan until thick, about 5 minutes. Do not allow mixture to caramelize.

Vanilla icing

1 c. powdered sugar
2 Tbs. milk or cream
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

Combine in small bowl until smooth. Adjust consistency by adding milk or sugar until it is in a state where you can use a spoon to drizzle it in thick ribbons over the rolls.

Variations and options:

1. Grate a little almond paste into the filling. Really good idea!!
2. Skip the caramel glaze. If you do this, butter the pans really well before baking, and stop reading this blog. We can't be friends anymore.
3. Add raisins and/or nuts by sprinkling them onto the filling before you roll the dough up. Again, I will miss you.
4. Forget the vanilla icing, it's just too much. Fine. I'll let you get away with that one.

* But not as much, as we were not being universally oppressed by the French.
** The Lord also arranged that the selection of kid friendly movies at the local theater that day did suck.