Sunday, February 5


i could be happy for the rest of my life with a cinnamon girl.
my man, neil, said it back in the old days,
and he really knew what he was talking about.
of course, i'm over here, up early, with nobody in sight.
cinnamon, nutmeg, or otherwise.
i'll just have to make my happiness with a cinnamon swirl.
...and that's probably for the best.
these swirls, though.
i mean,
wouldja just look at 'em:

i used a big ol' 12" cast-iron skillet,
and made big ol' crispy, buttery, sticky sweet buns-
y'know what?
that did make me happy, for the rest of the morning.
thanks, cinnamon.
would you like to make some?
here's how:
3 cups flour;
1/2 tsp salt;
4 T coconut sugar;
1/4 cup crushed coarse coconutmeal;
1 pkg fast-actin' yeast;
1/2 cup sourdough starter;
4 T melted vegan butts;
3/4 cup non-dairy milk;
1 1/2 tsp vanilla;
1 tsp cinnamon.
kneaded and beat up, and doughy as heck,
that soft, sticky dough will rise somewhat rapidly,
believe it or not,
the sourdough slows it down a bit..
that's good,
because you've gotta heat that oven up to 365F,
and make the filling, too:
2/3rds cup light brown sugar;
4 T softened vegan butts;
1/4 cup medium flake unsweetened coconut;
2 tsp cinnamon;
1/2 tsp nutmeg;
1 tsp vanilla.
smoosh it all up into a gooey grainy brown sugary shmear.
back to that dough,
which has doubled in size by now...
it's been 30 minutes,
maybe an hour,
you've been busy, it's been busy,
and now, you're back together again-
punch it down on a verrry well floured surface,
and get busy rolling a large and in charge rectangle out of the dough,
take your brown sugary butts, and spread that sh!t out evenly,
leaving a 1" edge on the long side, moistened,
and then tightly, slowly, and self-assuredly roll the whole rectangle
right up into one big regular swirl.
finish and affix it to itself with the moist end against a moistened exterior
so the seam is sealed.
that's a nice touch.
you are gong to wanna refrigerate that roll for a few.
word up.
nobody likes a drippy doo-doo cut on their buns, man.
that's no joke.
when it's nicey-nice and firm,
cut it in half, and then each half in half,
and then, cut each of those halves into thirds.
that's one dozen dominators, ready to rise to the occasion.
in my big skillet, on parchment, for that smart cleanup afterwards,
laid out, and allowed to rise for a whole other 'nother 30 minutes or so,
before a 30 minute bake,
and voila.
everything expert has just unfolded,
like a dreamer of pictures, running in the sand, chasing the moonlight, etc. etc.
what happens next?
they cool down.
man, i know you want one right away.
i'm not the boss of you, bruh.
go ahead and dig in.
that's all you.
on the other hand,
i waited,
because rules is rules.
hot giant sexxxy buns are dope,
but warm giant sexxy buns with that icy glaze are double-dope.
that's a thing.
too much is the right amount,
and to that end.
after a cup of kapow-powdered sugar went all thick and drippy,
with a splash of vanilla, and a few tablespoons of soymilk.
icy icing is essential to a good cinnamon rollup, man.
it's a scientifically uproven fact that MORE icing means MORE awesome
whenever we're dealing with the option to ice or to abstain.
my sggestion?
don't eff it up.
i knew, deep down,
in my guts, out back, behind the spot i keep my instincts,
in that place where all of my shark-gluttonous indulgences are born,
that i was definitely gonna need to turn that finish up another 'nother notch.
how do we take cinnamon coconut hottness to eleven?
with MORE coconut, toasted, and tossed down saltbae-style,
like sprankles.
i love making food in the morning.
the light in the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is SO good.
there's the dawn's break against the cliffs of cathedral ledge,
reflecting outside my kitchen window.
the big picture window allowing an even bigger picture of woodsly goodness
to open upwards and outwards from the comparative warmth of my home
to the expansive snow-packed paths of this wintry mountain valley.
i'm just sayin'-
mornings make treats look sexxxy.
whereas nights make food look shiny.
it just so happens to pan out like that in the post-prep plating.
i could do worse,
but i will do better.
ugly food is not my idea of a good time.
not one little teeny tiny bit.
it's all really happening,
and hopefully,
this habit of mine is developing, evolving, growing, and improving.
i could be doing other things,
but a man's gotta eat,
and there's no good reason to make necessities into punishments,
when competent, capable, conscientious culinary creativity
requires only nominally more work.
exxxtra hottness is always worth it;
never quiet, never soft.....

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