How Much Do I Love You??.
If you must know, dear, I love you so much that I will stay up all night, foregoing sleep, to make sure you have breakfast to take to work.
That's how much.
I found what looked to be a pretty good recipe for Fluffy, Buttery Cinnamon Rolls.
We were pretty busy yesterday, and didn't even get dinner on the table till late. We then watched a bad movie that's kicking around (Entrapment...oh, bad bad), and only then did I get started on the rolls.
Oh, wait...because of our weird outlet/plumbing situation, I then had to wait for the dishwasher to finish it's run before I could plug in the stand mixer!
Ok, fine. I have the yeast bubbling, and ingredients are going into the mixer.
Dough's all mixed, now it has to rise, about an hour. That takes me to...about 12:30.
That worked. Now I divide the dough into fours, roll each out, put them on wax paper, on a baking sheet, and stick them in the freezer.
It's...after one, now.
One-thirty-ish, I run out to the kitchen to check on the dough, and notice my least favorite word in recipes, "meanwhile"...crap. Mix up the softened butter with dark brown sugar and cinnamon.
Spread over the dough, roll each up tightly. Freeze again, about 20 minutes.
It's after two.
Of course, I'm now invested in an episode of Midsummer Murders. Crap.
The rolls need to be sliced, 1 inch each. I carry the trays and knife, as well as the buttered springform pan, into the living room so I don't miss any of the usual red herrings Midsummer does so well.
Ah...it wasn't the guy revitalizing the canal, it was the son! Well, his mom was hooking up with his friends, I can almost see his point. And Sgt. Troy, now promoted to Inspector, is leaving the show. Sniff, sniff.
It's after three.
The slices have been put into the pan, in concentric circles, till filled.
I still have a over a dozen slices left.
Right; I have miniature springform pans. That works.
Now, the rolls have to get all rise-y and puffy. Supposed to take an hour.
Comedy, in a recipe.
I've completely lost track of the time. It's late. Or early.
But I am catching up on my tv viewing; the second half of To Sir, With Love (I don't care how many times I hear that theme song, I still cry and cry), the end of an episode of Angel, and the episode Afterlife of Buffy.
The rolls in the small pans have risen beautifully, but the large one is clearly conspiring with unknown forces to keep me from going to bed.
I add an extra layer of plastic wrap, set the oven to 'warm'...four o'clock has come and gone.
Apparently, the only people watching television right now are between the ages of 40-65, who need low-cost life insurance, with no medical exam required, and your rates will never increase! And did you know that the average funeral costs over $6,000.00? Three different companies, three different (yet so very much the same) ads in a row.
My eyes are blurry now, but at least the rolls are puffy. Into the oven they go...but since when did baking require an instant-read thermometer, anyway?
I may need to have my oven re-calibrated; the rolls reached temperature fifteen minutes early.
Ok...let them cool, slide a knife around the pans to loosen the rolls, and top with a butter/powdered sugar/cinnamon glaze.
It's just after five-thirty. Yeah, looks like I won't be getting to bed, after all.
The good news, Matt really likes the cinnamon rolls. Alex is eating some right now. And there's enough to last all week (if not longer), so I won't have to go sleepless any time soon!
But I don't think Matt will be questioning how much I love him, do you?
Tagged with: Food and Drink + Baking + Cinnamon Rolls + Recipes + Breakfast + Television + TV + Sleep + Family