Baking Bread

I love to bake bread. There is something so satisfying about making this basic staple of human existence. The heady smell of yeast fermenting and working its wonders to raise the flour to a fragrant moist loaf of bread tempts one to tear off a piece and savor the warm goodness at this peak of perfection.

My mother initiated me to the pleasures of bread baking early in my life. Mom made cinnamon rolls and everyone knew that she had the touch making them exceptionally well. She worked her magic as she kneaded and rolled out the dough. Growing up, I loved to snitch a piece of the sweet dough when she was rolling it out to smear it with melted butter and cinnamon sugar. I would much rather eat sweet roll dough than cookie dough! For one of her signature recipes, she pulled an indentation with her fingers on each roll and put in a teaspoon of crushed pineapple sweetened with sugar. After the rolls emerged from the oven golden brown with a warm center of pineapple, she would glaze the cooled rolls and sprinkle on toasted coconut. These rolls generate special requests from relatives for my mom bring to family dinners.

However, her best rolls are, without a doubt, her sour cream cinnamon twist rolls. For some reason these rolls taste better than any other and the shape seems to influence the taste. Mom has made these rolls for years, but it has only been in the last few years that she has made a conscious effort to pass on her techniques to her granddaughters. At Christmas, my daughter requested a lesson in cinnamon twist roll-making. The rolls require a cup of sour cream, which when dad was still milking the cow was the real thing, but now mom settles for commercial sour cream. Once warmed, sugar, butter and salt were added. The yeast, proofed with warm water and sugar, quickly began foaming ready to transform these ingredients into delicate bread.

These ingerdients were mixed together with flour and an egg for a sticky dough. Mom took out a pastry cloth that I had not seen before. The top and bottom have a flat wooden dowel to keep it straight and the sides are held taut by metal rods hooking onto the top and bottom dowels with the bottom end hooking over the counter to keep it is place. The cloth, well seasoned with flour enables the baker to have a much moister dough resulting in a very tender roll. Once the dough had rested for a short time, she kneaded it briefly and rolled out the dough, brushed it with melted buttter and spread the mix of brown sugar, flour, and cinnamon to spread on the surface. The dough, folded in half was cut into one inch sections, twisted twice and placed on a greased baking sheet. Covered with a cloth, the warmth of the room enticed the yeast to grow and and hour or so later, the rolls were ready to pop into the oven for the final step--baking. A short time in the oven and the delicacies emerged fragrant with cinnamon, tender ready to be eaten, or if necessary, saved to share with others later.

I have made these rolls occasionally in the past with limited success, but I was intrigued with this pastry cloth. After Mom gave me one, I was off on a roll baking frenzy because it made the process so much easier and the rolls better. I had no problem finding people to help eat them! My father-in-law loves them, eating one for breakfast nearly every morning. I have promised him a lifetime supply, so I am constantly baking a batch of rolls for him and sending them to him with my husband. The process of making the rolls is a pleasure, but the joy of sharing is even better. What makes all of this even more special is the sharing of skills and recipes from one generation to another. Grandma's sour cream cinnamon twist rolls will continue to be part of the family lore for generations to come.

Motivation to Write

The university has a used-book sale every month, and I enjoy going to see what treasures I might find. I end up with many more books than we will ever read, and my husband wonders aloud if I might consider contributing to the sale at some point instead of continually bringing home a big bag of books that I get for two dollars. Some of the books I bring home are ones that I do not know much about; I might recognize an author or the title catches my eye. Many of the books aren't that great, but every once in a while I find a real treasure that delights me and inspires me to write. I just finished Little Heathens: Hard Times and High Spirits on an Iowa Farm During the Great Depression by Mildred Armstrong Kalish. (The illustrations on the cover was what first caught my attention on this one: a windmill, a horse, a cow, and a big red barn.) Though she is writing of a generation before me, there was so much that I could identify with in my own growing up on a ranch in Wyoming. She writes about country life, animals, family, school, gardening, and hard work. I am excited to start writing about my experiences on the family ranch because I have so many wonderful memories of times that have shaped who I am today. This book gave me ideas of how to compose so many different stories and get a start on this project. These memories might not be of interest to anyone else, but it will give me a chance to savor those special times of my childhood and give thanks for the privilege of growing up in the country with an extended family.