Cinnamon Love

The Adolescent and I have had a rough go of it recently. He's been asking for Cinnamon Buns but I've been resisting. They're a lot of work. They take a lot of time. And the warm fuzzies have not been felt much between us lately. But today I get the urge. It's a nasty fall day. Cold and windy and dreary out. The perfect day for baking. Comfort food. I know it's silly to think I can bake our love strong enough to withstand Adolescence. But, if anything can, it will be Cinnamon Buns .













There is mashed potato in the batter which makes these buns tender and moist. It's a baking session for the senses. First there's the irresistible smell of potatoes and butter. Then the sight of yeast foaming and bubbling and growing like some alien life form. Then there's the feeling of the sticky dough turning into smooth gorgeous substance under my kneading hands. As I'm kneading I realize that I didn't get the potatoes completely smooth and lump-free when mashing them so can feel little pea-size pieces of unmashed potato under my fingers. It's a little distracting but isn't at all apparent in the finished product.

The sound of my family salivating at the thought of what's to come and, finally, the taste of these decadent but really satisfying buns complete the experience.







The Adolescent has been doing the annoying things that adolescents do: thinking that he doesn't need me, acting like he thinks he's an adult, making his own (questionable) decisions. I know he's trying to figure out what kind of man he's going to be. I know he will eventually get to Amazing Man at his own sweet speed. But it would be a lot easier if he just realized that I KNOW HOW. All he has to do is LISTEN TO ME. But apparently that's not the way it's going to go. He has to do it for himself. Adolescents are so annoying!



But when I tell him I'm making Cinnamon Buns he THANKS ME. While the Buns are baking he HANGS AROUND ME. He eats one only five minutes out of the oven and he REMEMBERS WHAT HE APPRECIATES ABOUT ME. If only for a fleeting moment. Then he eats four more. This means that for four more fleeting moments he APPRECIATES ME. Ahhhh...!

I decide to put up with him for just one more day.