Monday, March 14, 2011

Cinnamon buns 101


I can hear you all now, "Hey! This isn't a recipe blog!" And you're right, I usually post about things that Rachel says, or trips to the ER, or bacteria who use Facebook.

Some of you have been lucky enough to have had me make these for you, and some of you were offered demonstrations but were too hung over to get up and watch (I'm not naming names, but you know who you are :-)), and I've emailed the recipe to some of you, but I've never explained how to make cinnamon buns in excruciating detail before.

So. Do you want to be a hero to your family? Do you want to have something amazing up your sleeve to coerce your children to clean their rooms? Do you want to seduce Daniel Craig that special someone by whipping up a batch of really divine cinnamon buns? Do you want to win a first-place ribbon at the Carp Fair?

Well look no further. I'll walk you through it. All you need is a bread machine and the willingness to be worshipped like a goddess. (Or god, I'm all about equal opportunity.) Here's how you do it (recipe follows):

First of all, you put the ingredients in the bread machine: liquids first, then dry ingredients, finishing with the yeast and salt. One thing I learned about getting dough right in a breadmaker, whether it's for cinnamon buns or bread, is measuring the flour accurately. You have to stir the bread flour (not all-purpose flour) in the bag with a spoon to lighten it a bit, then spoon the flour into the measuring cup and level it off with a knife. Otherwise, if you just scoop it out and bang the measuring cup to settle the flour, you'll be using too much and have to add more water when it's kneading. Oh, and always use bread flour and bread machine yeast. It makes a difference.

Anyway, add the ingredients and set it to the dough cycle. When it's done, it will be silky and elastic and look like this:



Roll it out into a rectangle. Use a fair amount of flour. (I took these photos during different cinnamon-bun-making events, so that's why you might notice the disappearing pastry mat. Funny story, I stored it behind the toaster oven and accidentally melted it one day when making a pizza.)


Now take a spatula and spread the softened butter all over the rolled-out dough, leaving one long edge without butter (for sealing it up):



Now sprinkle the brown sugar/cinnamon mixture on top of the butter:



If you have helpers, this goes really quickly. Just make sure they wash their hands.




Once the brown sugar/cinnamon has been evenly spread, roll up along the long edge, starting with the edge that you *didn't* leave free of butter and sugar:



Pinch it shut along the edge that you left free of butter and sugar:



Roll it over until the seam is on the bottom:



Now take a big, sharp knife, and cut the roll in half:



And then cut each half in half:



Now, cut each quarter into three rolls, giving you a dozen rolls. Isn't math great?



Place them on a lightly greased cookie sheet. They'll be small and won't touch each other:



Now spray some plastic wrap with a little spray oil and cover the cookie sheet. Child head is optional. I used to use a tea towel, but I got tired of having butter-stained tea towels. But you can use one if you want.



Leave in a warm place to rise, about 30-40 minutes. Now they'll be touching each other:



Now into a preheated oven and bake them. I once went through all the steps up until this point and was too impatient to wait until the little light on the oven went off, indicating that the oven had hit the right temp, and I burned the tops of the rolls. It was horrible. I cried. And then I ate them anyway. They're *that* good. So be sure the oven is ready and the top element isn't still on trying to heat up the oven. Mmmmmmm. Don't they look GREAT?:



Now make the icing. Not any icing. CREAM CHEESE ICING. If ever an icing deserved all caps, it's CREAM CHEESE ICING. Now, unless you're really a pig a sweet-toothed person, half of the icing recipe is enough for a dozen cinnamon buns:


Now spread a little or a lot of icing onto a warm roll, inhale the cinnamon-vanilla fragrance, and wallow in a piece of home-made heaven.



Five out of five sleepover party guests think these are the best cinnamon buns ever.



Cinnamon Rolls for the bread maker


12 servings


It takes about 2 1/2 hours to make a batch of rolls with my bread machine: dough cycle is 1 1/2 hours, 10 minutes to roll out dough and put filling on it and cut into rolls, 35 - 40 minute for rising, and 12 - 15 minutes to bake.


Rolls
1/4 cup butter, melted
1/4 cup water (warm)
1 cup milk (room temp or just nuke for a minute if it's right out of the fridge)
1 egg, beaten
1 tablespoon sugar
2 1/2 tablespoons vanilla instant pudding mix (not the diet kind with artificial sweetener, and not the kind you have to cook)
4 cups bread flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 1/2 teaspoons bread machine yeast


Filling
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon

Frosting
4 ounces cream cheese, softened (1/2 a regular pkg)
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar (icing sugar)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons milk

Rolls : Place ingredients in the machine following manufacturer's instructions and set for dough cycle. Wet ingredients first, then flour, sugar and pudding mix. Make 2 little wells in the flour with your finger or a spoon and put the salt in one and the yeast in the other. Start the dough cycle. After completion of cycle, remove from machine and roll out to 17x10-inch rectangle.

Filling: Mix together brown sugar and cinnamon. Spread softened butter over dough and sprinkle brown sugar/cinnamon mixture over the top. Roll tightly from long end, pinching edges closed when finished. Slice into sizes of your choice (I usually get 12 rolls from this). Place on greased cookie sheet and let rise until doubled in size . Cover with a slightly damp tea towel and put somewhere warm and not drafty. (I usually turn the oven on to 150F, let it warm up, then turn the oven off and put the pan in there to rise with the oven door open about 1/4 of the way.) Rising should take about 35 to 40 minutes.

Bake at 350°F for 12 -18 minutes, until light golden- DO NOT OVERBAKE! <- Keep an eye on them because mine were done in 12 mins, but my oven runs hot . You want them not too hard, but soft and yummy. Golden on the top, but whitish where they touch each other.

Frosting: Mix together and spread over warm rolls. You'll need a spatula to get them out of the pan -- some of the butter and sugar filling leaks down and caramelizes on the bottom of the rolls and they sometimes stick to the pan even though you greased it. Enjoy!

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Things I learned today, vol. 2


  • When your children go to bed gleefully anticipating a snow day, and you have to wake them up in the morning to tell them that the school buses are running and the schools are open, you should be prepared for levels of grumpiness never before seen. Nuclear-strength grumpiness and pouting.
  • Wild turkeys can fly. It ain't pretty, and they don't get much altitude, but they can fly. I nearly ran off the road this morning when one seemed to fall out of the sky right above my car. Fortunately she veered off and landed in the forest next to the road and not spreadeagled on my windshield.
  • Hat head isn't fatal. It only feels like it should be when you get to work and take off your hat and realize that you look as though you've been simultaneously electrocuted and drowned.
  • Knowing that you're going out for lunch with friends takes a lot of the sting out of a late-season snow/freezing rain/rain event.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

International Women's Day


We have a little ritual that we do when we leave the house for the day, heading for school and work. First, we tell the cats to behave themselves while we're gone: "Be good. No smoking. No making french fries." And then as we go through the front door, I always say, "Let's go conquer the world!"

Today is the 100th anniversary of International Women's Day, so I decided to switch it up a bit. I told the girls that I wanted them to go out and kick some butt and show everyone what super amazing women they are. (And then I had to explain the word 'metaphorically' to Rachel.)

What are you going to do today?

Monday, February 28, 2011

According to Rachel: Canal edition




Yesterday we went skating on the Canal to get a skate in before the promised freezing rain and snow that's taking place today. Bribed with the promise of Beavertails and hot apple cider, the girls happily skated the length of Dows Lake and we headed to the Beavertail stand and rest area to refuel and warm ourselves by the outdoor fireplace.

Satisfied, we headed down the Canal towards the Bank Street Bridge, with Leah helping her sister, who isn't as accomplished a skater as Leah is.

Leah: Don't go so near the edge where the snow is. The ice is really bumpy under there. And watch out for the cracks, you could trip if your skate blade catches in one.

Rachel [in a witheringly sarcastic voice]: Yah, I think I can figure that out. You don't have to be Albert Frankenstein to know *that*.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Enough already


RE: Cessation of ongoing viral/bacterial infections

To: Group A Streptococcus; Pneumococcus; Rotavirus
Cc: Norovirus; Rhinovirus

_______________________

Dear Sirs,

Though I realize that you are our major corporate stakeholders in the infection line-of-business, a lack of resources is forcing our organization to terminate the stakeholder-engagement process.

After consultation with our lung, stomach, and gastrointestinal-tract teams, we've decided to revert to our core competencies -- breathing, digestion, and nutrient absorption -- and get out of the business of coughing, vomiting, restricted oxygen levels, fever, and diarrhea.

The past few months have been productive for the infection line-of-business, with infection targets being reached or exceeded in the program sectors of pneumonia (Alison and Rachel), bronchitis (Alison), strep throat (Rachel), and some kind of rotavirus/norovirus (Leah and Rachel). We hope that you will be successful elsewhere as a direct result of leveraging the knowledge base acquired during these program trials.

We wish you the best in your future infection endeavours.

Sincerely,

Alison
CEO, Party of 3

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Onslaught of the Henchkitten

Hello, Large One.

My training of the Henchkitten proceeds apace. He is an inspired student and has absorbed my knowledge well.

The day of his first solo attack is here. I have unleashed him to lay waste to those papers you concentrate on so strongly.

Make me proud, Grasshopper.





Your pen will not survive.



Friday, February 11, 2011

Did that just say what I thought it said?

I don't know whether it's because I read very quickly, or because I'm an editor, and used to looking for certain words or word patterns, or maybe I drink too much wine I'm just tired, but lately I find that I'm reading things that aren't there.

It usually happens when I'm reading online in that split second after I've hit the back button on the browser -- or clicked on a new link -- and my eye will pick up a phrase or sentence from the disappearing web page that registers on my brain *after* the new page is already loading, and I can't re-check to see if I really saw what I saw. Which can be some really weird stuff.

Such as the following:



The Princess Royal is handed a posy during a visit to open the new premises of The Princess Royal Trust for Carers' Renfrewshire Carers Centre in Paisley, 26 January 2011. The centre supports more than 3,000 carers in the Renfrewshire area.


'A posy'! That makes so much more sense. I read 'a pony':


I think she'll need a bigger vase.

Or this one, last week:

Top Headlines

Calgary pathologist's reports probed

    A former Calgary medical examiner whose expert reports are being reviewed by Alberta Justice officials has been identified as Dr. Michael Belenky, CBC News has learned.

    'Calgary pathologist'! *slaps forehead* I read 'Culinary pathologist':


    Which is kind of gross, really. Ewwww.

    Or this, which showed up in an ad at the side of my Facebook page:




    NY Ski Deals starting $15

    'Ski deals'! Well that sounds so much better than 'ski deaths', which is what I read.

    Not exactly a great marketing campaign.


    But the best one was this:



    The Canadian Press

    OTTAWA—Immigration Minister Jason Kenney is lashing out at the judicial system, accusing judges and lawyers of undermining Canada’s immigration process by indulging spurious refugee cases.

    I bet you can figure out what I thought I read:

    Yikes!

    Friday, January 28, 2011

    According to Rachel, January 2011 edition


    In the car the other night, driving back from visiting friends, talking about summer camps to Leah.

    Me: And they have all kinds of camps. They even have a C.S.I. camp where you learn detective techniques!

    Leah: Cool!

    Rachel [sounding very adult and world-weary]: That would be the Village of Yawn for me.

    Me: . . . . *hysterical laughter*

    Rachel [sounding disgruntled]: What?

    Me: Where did you hear that?

    Rae [sounding defensive]: Nowhere. I was just trying to say that it sounds boring.

    Me: Well, you did a pretty good job.

    (I am totally going to use this from now on whenever something is boring: "Are you going to the legend committee meeting, Alison?" "Yep, I'm heading out to the Village of Yawn." )

    Wednesday, January 26, 2011

    Son of the Evil Ninja Assassin Cat


    Good evening, Large One.

    I cannot believe you have made such a mis-step, such a mistake. In all the years of our warfare you have proved a worthy opponent. But no more.

    Did you really think that bringing another Superior Being into the household would tame me? Did you think that another of my ilk would render me soft and playful? Ha! I laugh at that idea.

    You have provided me with a henchkitten, and together we will. destroy. your. world.

    Sure, he looks innocuous and sweet:


    But I shall train him. He shall be my disciple in all the unholy arts.

    We shall eat together:

    And rest together:

    I shall teach him the arcane and mysterious feline martial arts:

    I shall school him in the occult mysteries of mind melding and thought transfer:


    And then I shall turn him loose to wreak havoc on your paltry human lives!

    He will shed all over your favourite chair:


    He will steal your identity and demolish your credit rating! (And order lots of canned tuna online.)

    He will bite all the buttons off your duvet cover!


    And shred the blankie of Loud One!

    Anarchy and mayhem shall follow you all the days of your life!

    The Evil Ninja Assassin Cat and the Henchkitten will be obeyed!

    Or you shall suffer the consequences.

    Friday, January 21, 2011

    A good day

    A school trip to the Parliament Buildings:


    +


    Skating on the Rideau Canal Skateway:



    +


    A fire in the fireplace:

    +

    Home-made pizza (can you tell which third of the pie was mine?):


    +

    A glass or two of Shiraz:

    =


    Thursday, January 13, 2011

    Be careful what you wish for


    I am sorry for the long absence, but I've been a little....under the weather since Christmas, having hit the pulmonary lotto (thanks Jen, for that phrase) of pneumonia with a side of bronchitis. So I've been off work since New Year's, trying to rest and regain my strength while the antibiotics and steriods do their magic.

    I thought I'd tell you about a conversation that happened on New Year's Eve. On holidays in Windsor, the girls and I went out for dinner with family to a Chinese restaurant in Lasalle. On the way out, the owner gave each of the girls a cellophane bag holding several fortune cookies. On the way to my sister's place in Belle River, the girls started eating the cookies and reading the fortunes.

    Leah: Mum, listen to this fortune, it's weird: "Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it." That doesn't sound bad.

    Me: When you're a bit older, I'll read you a story called 'The Monkey's Paw'. It's really scary.

    Leah: How is getting what you wish for scary?

    Me: In the story, the wishes don't turn out like the people thought they would.

    Rachel: I don't think that story would be scary at all.

    Me: No? Why not?

    Rachel: What's so scary about a bunch of monkeys getting their nails done?

    Me: ......? [comprehension dawns] Rachel, it's "The Monkey's Paw" not "The Monkey Spa".

    Rachel: Oh.

    ********************

    I had occasion to revisit this subject with Leah a few days ago. I told her that I had been wishing for a week off work while she and her sister were at school, so that I could declutter and deep clean the house. Well, I got the week off alright, but was too weak to do more than lie on the couch watching True Blood and C.S.I. on DVD. I told her that I should have been careful what I wished for.

    I think she gets it now.

    Thursday, December 23, 2010

    I am an idiot, volumes I and II

    Volume I

    While wrapping Christmas gifts yesterday, I decided to charge the battery for the camera that my dad bought Rachel. I read the instructions and carefully hooked the charging cable to the camera and to the thing that plugs into the wall. A red light was supposed to light up and then turn green when the battery is full. I plugged it in. No light. Hmmmm. Maybe a different electrical outlet? No light. Crap, I thought, maybe the charger is broken. I went back to look at the instructions, and noticed the battery sitting right there on the table.

    I am an idiot.

    Volume II

    Today is our office's pot luck Christmas lunch. I was too tired last night to make the broccoli salad for the lunch, and went to bed at 9:30, figuring I'd get up in the morning and make it. When the alarm went off this morning, I hopped out of bed and started the coffee maker. I had unplugged it the night before and so the clock on it was flashing zeroes. I got the water boiling for the broccoli, and the ice water ready for after it was blanched. I put the tv on the CTV news channel, and started chopping an onion and grating cheese. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It said 2:12 and I thought, "Oh, there must have been a power outage last night, the clock is wrong."

    I blanched the broccoli, and made the dressing. While the broccoli was cooling, I poured a cup of coffee and decided to check my email before jumping in the shower. While on the laptop, I drank my coffee, and wondered idly why Canada A.M. hadn't started yet. Surely it was 6 a.m. by now, and the news channel should be showing Canada A.M., but no, it was still Lloyd Robertson and last night's news.

    Hmmmm. I got up and went over to the clock on the thermostat, which is never affected by power outages. 2:46 a.m. And the horror slowly dawned on me. I hadn't changed my alarm setting since Monday night when I set it for 1:30 a.m. so that Leah and I could get up and watch the lunar eclipse.

    It was the middle of the night and I was sitting in the living room drinking coffee. (Which is why, Natalie, you have an email from me about the explanatory notes sent around 2:40 a.m.)

    I am an idiot.

    Friday, December 17, 2010

    Dear Angus

    I realize you are still getting used to the whole 'living inside with people' thing, but there are a couple of things that we need to talk about.

    First of all, humans are animals who rely on sight rather than smell to idividuate amongst family members. In other words, I know what you look like, I do not need to sniff your butt in order to recognize you. So, really, you don't have to push that part of your anatomy in my face when I'm reading on the couch, however helpful you feel you are being.

    Also, though I am ecstatic that you know how to use your litterbox and use it often, I need to tell you that it is not necessary to spend 10 minutes piling all the litter in the box into a scale model of Mt. Fuji before pooping right on the tippy top of the mountain. And afterwards, you don't really need to ensure that every last grain of clumping kitty litter has been piled on top of the evidence. Your enthusiasm is charming, but it's creating a lot of extra vacuuming.

    Max is your friend. Please don't lurk on the arm of the couch and then launch a flying kamikaze attack on him when he's only trying to get to the kitchen for a bite to eat.

    And, last but not least, we *will* feed you. Always. I know you still worry about where your next meal is coming from, that's to be expected in a former feral kitty. But we will always make sure you have something to eat. I hope you enjoyed the rotini with pesto that you knocked off the counter last night.

    Sincerely,

    Alison

    P.S. Thanks for not destroying the Christmas tree. We were worried about that.

    Tuesday, December 07, 2010

    For Jazz - Jason and the birth control pills

    Many years ago, when I was just out of university, I moved to Toronto for a job. My first real grown-up job. (Yes, it was during this period that the horrible thing happened. But I digress...) My boyfriend moved with me, and we were sharing an apartment with an old university friend of mine.

    I was apprehensive about starting work in a new office. Most of the people there were around my own age and they seemed a friendly bunch. There were the other junior editors, the senior editors, the cartographers, and the admin staff.

    At the end of my very first day, I was standing in my office, getting ready to go home. I had one hand in my purse, looking to grab my hairbrush and brush my hair before setting off, when Jason, one of the cartographers, appeared in my doorway to ask if I wanted to go out for beer and wings with the gang. I had spoken to him only once before, when we were introduced that morning.

    "Sure," I said, thinking it was nice to be invited along on my very first day, and, a little nervous and wanting something to do with my hands, pulled my hairbrush from my purse. It was one of those skeleton brushes that were so popular back then:

    Each of the stiff plastic bristles was tipped with a flat disk, like the head of a sewing pin. And one of those bristle ends caught in one of the holes in the birth control pill compact that was also in my purse -- the holes that let you push a pill through.

    So, as the brush cleared the purse, the pill compact somersaulted lazily in a high arc through the air. It seemed to fly in slow motion. In my head, I was screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOO, but could only watch speechlessly in horror as the compact bounced once on the floor and skittered over to come to rest against Jason's shoe. We both looked down at the pills and then up at each other, and without hesitating a second, he said, "So, are you busy Saturday night?" and grinned. I cracked up, and we were friends from that moment on. The end.