We all have guilty pleasures. For some, it’s Danielle Steele novels. For others, it’s Jefferson Starship. For me, it’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I mean sweets! Sweets are my guilty pleasure [can we fix this in editing, please?]. Ah yes, sweets. Now, I like ice cream, Oreos, and cake as much as the next guy. But there is nothing better than my sister Carmela’s cinnamon rolls. If you told me that you had perfected time travel, I would say that Carmela’s cinnamon rolls are better. Then I would take your time machine, go back to the Renaissance, and tell Michelangelo to his face that these cinnamon rolls are better than him.
Carmela claims that the cinnamon rolls are very easy to make. She uses a recipe and technique she learned from the “bread lady” of Pantry Secrets. All I know is that whenever Carmela takes them out of the oven, it’s all we can do to wait for them to be frosted. But it is well worth the wait. When you peel apart the soft, perfect dessert, you’ll gently inhale the sweet scent of cinnamon mingled with fresh bread. You’ll lick the frosting from your fingers and drink in a brief moment of rapture. Then you’ll break off a piece and savor it as it virtually melts on your tongue. Before you know it, you’ll wonder where it went and you’ll be pushing your niece out of the way for more.
Carmela assures me that anyone can make these rolls. One thing is certain; our family get-togethers are not quite the same when we don't have them. If I were on Prozac, I could easily replace the prescription with the “bread lady’s” recipe.
Carmela claims that the cinnamon rolls are very easy to make. She uses a recipe and technique she learned from the “bread lady” of Pantry Secrets. All I know is that whenever Carmela takes them out of the oven, it’s all we can do to wait for them to be frosted. But it is well worth the wait. When you peel apart the soft, perfect dessert, you’ll gently inhale the sweet scent of cinnamon mingled with fresh bread. You’ll lick the frosting from your fingers and drink in a brief moment of rapture. Then you’ll break off a piece and savor it as it virtually melts on your tongue. Before you know it, you’ll wonder where it went and you’ll be pushing your niece out of the way for more.
Carmela assures me that anyone can make these rolls. One thing is certain; our family get-togethers are not quite the same when we don't have them. If I were on Prozac, I could easily replace the prescription with the “bread lady’s” recipe.
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