That's How I Roll

I did cinnamon rolls this year for the neighbors, which is great because they're cheap and I know from personal experience that it's very hard to throw away a cinnamon roll. Some people (including myself) have murmured about the pressures of Christmas neighbor gifts, and I have observed of late that either a) I have less friends, or b) many people are forgoing neighbor gifting. In my brother's neighborhood, neighbor gifts are entirely banned by some well-meaning, overwhelmed, but misguided women.
Bad form, I say. Think of all of those children who are missing out on the time-honored tradition of burning peanut brittle with their mothers or trudging around the neighborhood with a dozen plates of loosely wrapped plates of candy balanced precariously in your cold eight-year-old hands. I remember the sight of the jar of marshmallow creme signaled the start of the Christmas candy-making season, and how I would spoon out ever last sticky strand of that creme after my mom scraped it into the bubbling pot of sugar. I remember her quiet cursing as the the divinity hardened too quickly, forming little chalky boulders instead of smooth, peaked domes. I remember her perfect, delicate peanut brittle stretched out by her oiled, red hands. Success or failure, the candy was always eaten, proving that even badly done candy is good.
This recipe is adapted from Bonnie Lake's recipe from the Heritage Cookbook.
Cinnamon Rolls
2 pgks dry yeast (4 1/2 t. instant yeast)
1/2 c. warm water
2 c. milk, scalded
1/2 c. shortening
7 c. flour (approx.)
1 c. sugar
1 c. potatoes, mashed (I use instant)
2 eggs, beaten
2 t. salt
Roll filling:
softened butter (1-2 cubes)
brown sugar (1-2 cups)
2-3 t. cinnamon
chopped nuts & fruit (optional)
Scald milk. Put shortening in large bowl and pour hot milk over shortening. When shortening is melted, add sugar, salt, potatoes, and beaten eggs. In large mixing bowl, mix yeast with warm water. When milk mixture has cooled to lukewarm, add to yeast mixture. Stir in 5-6 cups of flour. Add last cup of flour as needed. This is a very soft dough. If your using a KitchenAid, the dough will still be very sticky and not quite form a ball. If your mixing the dough by hand, it may be too soft to knead - just stir it for a few minutes. After about 5 minutes of kneading, dump into an oiled bowl, cover w/plastic wrap and let rise until doubled. After it has risen, divide the dough in half. Working with one half at a time, roll dough into a rectangle, spread with softened butter and sprinkle generously with sugar and cinnamon. Roll up dough the long way and cut into 1-inch slices. You should get 12-15 rolls from each piece of dough. Place rolls in 2 9x13 pans that have been greased or lined with parchment. Cover and let rise 30-60 minutes. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes or so. When rolls have cooled, frost with cream cheese frosting.

The Last 50

1. While at a Michael Jackson concert in Moscow (I know, I know) I was picked up and tossed by a Russian policeman who was apparently trying to incite a riot.
2. While in Russia, I spoke well enough that everyone thought I was Lithuanian.
3. My favorite machine at the gym is that huge stairclimber that looks like a mini escalator.
4. People who don’t return shopping carts, don’t wipe off their exercise machines, and turn at arrow lights long after it’s red should face the wrath of a vengeful God.
5. My favorite hike is Mt. Aire. Two steep miles up, but a huge payoff.
6. I got my first varicose vein when I was 14.
7. I had a letter published in the Deseret Morning News this week – I’m almost famous!
8. I’m on the PTA Board. That’s just all kinds of wrong.
9. I think we women should go easy on each other.
10. I like fruitcake.
11. When I’m not eating food, I’m usually thinking about it. I’m uneasy if I’m traveling and I don’t have food stashed someplace.
12. In separate instances, angry men have approached my idling car to “discuss” the way I drive. The second time I kept my window up. Both times made me cry.
13. Okay, so sometimes I’m a bad driver.
14. Ed and I were both dating other people when we met each other
15. I’ve had two root canals.
16. I coached a state-winning water polo team.
17. I can’t wander around in department stores or libraries for very long, or I get what is commonly referred to in my family as an “SSA”.
18. I used to be obsessed with the Beatles. John Lennon was my hero, much to my parent’s dismay.
19. When I was 7 or 8 years old a car approached me while walking in my grandma’s neighborhood. The driver needed directions, and I said I didn’t know, that I didn’t live in that neighborhood. I remember the passenger door swinging open as he offered to “drive me around” to find the place. I ran back to my grandmas. I didn’t tell anyone for a couple of years. I didn’t think it was that important.
20. My favorite feel-good song: “It's You I Like” by Mr. Rogers.
21. Note Mr. Rogers is wearing the red sweater. I always wanted him to pick the red sweater, but he never did.
22. And while I’m at it, was not Lady Elaine Fairchild the most frightening creature on television? She scared the crap out of me with her enormous red nose and eerie museum-go-round. And don’t get me started on the purple panda. I mean, I love me some Mr. Rogers but I much preferred picture-picture than that crazy neighborhood.
23. I tore the ligaments in my ankle sneaking into Lavell Edwards Stadium before a Boston Concert at the Marriott Center. Yes, I saw Boston at the Marriott Center.
24. My other movie boyfriend: Alan Rickman
25. I was on Lighthouse 20 when I was 8 years old. Raise your hand if you remember that show.
26. Ed says I volunteer too much.
27. Brush with B-list actor: While in Moscow, we stumbled upon the filming of Police Academy 5 (?) and met the actor who plays the guy that is obsessed with guns
28. Another brush: While having an anniversary dinner at Cucina Toscana, we sat next to and chatted with Rob Lowe’s dad. He showed us the family pictures.
29. I got a mandoline for Christmas (she slices, she dices, she makes julienne fries…)
30. I wish Jim Henson were still alive.
31. I used to love watching the Frugal Gourmet as a teenager.
32. I seemed to be on a PBS kick here. Anyone remember The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross and his “happy trees”. Watching him was really soothing, eh? (Man, all these people I've mentioned are dead now.)
33. My sister was on Romper Room. Romper, stomper, bomber, boo!
34. Favorite muppet: Janice
35. Moving on…
36. I love old-fashioned phrases like “cut a rug” and “nice gams”
37. Wedding colors: periwinkle blue and yellow
38. Favorite boys names: Oliver, Charlie
39. I was the first female in our family to graduate from a university.
40. I wore knickers with argyle socks and penny loafers and years later (not a proud moment) wore parachute pants with paint splatters
41. Loved the movie Amadeus and occasionally listen to Mozart’s Requiem just for kicks.
42. My mom is awesome – she can speak double dutch and it blows me away every time.
43. My grandma was courted by Mormon sculptor Torlief Knapus
44. Caramel (not fudge)
45. Mayo (not Miracle Whip)
46. Coke (not Pepsi)
47. Flannel (not satin)
48. I can’t chew ice
49. The smell of balloons (especially popped ones) and rubber bands make me sick.
50. I'm done!
    

Mom's Banana Bread

I cannot throw away old bananas. Sometimes I’ll toss them, unpeeled, in my freezer. But throwing away old bananas is like stomping on this little voice inside of me saying, "someone needs banana bread". So today, despite a number of pressing tasks, I start pulling stuff out of the pantry to make banana bread.

Sometimes I fancy myself a baker, and over the years I’ve experimented with many recipes. Too eager to cast off my mother’s recipe as dated or simplistic, I’ve tried banana breads with made with butter, sour cream, nuts, or spices, but they have all fallen short. Perhaps it isn’t just the recipe, but what banana bread has come to represent.

I don’t know when my mom started taking banana bread to people. We accepted that banana bread was made in quadruple batches. She would sour some milk in quart bottles, grease and flour what seemed like all the loaf pans we owned, and stir up the creamy batter in a big yellow bowl. I loved to dip my finger in that tangy and sweet batter. I remember seeing the foil-wrapped loaves lined up like little train cars along the countertop.

Then she’d drive around the neighborhood, without celebration, and place these loaves in peoples hands. Over the years, my mom had built a reputation. Neighbors brought bags of mottled bananas to encourage her generosity. Whom she chose to receive was a mystery, at least to us. But my mom has a gift for knowing when people need bread. My mother knows if I cried three days ago by looking at my face today. She shows a keen sensitivity to others, paired with a disregard for her own self. My mother, even on her most difficult days, took banana bread. Answering the quizzical looks, my mother just said, “I just thought I’d bring you some bread.”

Of all the cakes I could perfect, of all the pies I could master, of all cookies I could dream up, the highest honor I could achieve would be to perfect the baking—and spirit— of my mother’s banana bread. So thanks to her for teaching me that hat someone, somewhere, needs some banana bread. Someone needs to heft the warm loaf, lay it on their countertop, peel back the creased foil wrapping and plunge their knife into the moist, warm bread and eat half the loaf, still standing. Someone, somewhere needs this bread: soft and sweet, with a nice dark edge, unadorned, unpretentious, perfect—just like my mother.

Banana Bread

Dorothy Chamberlain

½ c. shortening
1 c. sugar
1 ½ ripe bananas, mashed
1 egg
1 c. sour milk (the milk w/lemon juice or vinegar variety)
2 c. flour
1 t. baking powder
½ t. salt
1 t. baking soda

Cream shortening and sugar. Mix in egg. Stir in mashed bananas. Stir in sour milk and dry ingredients. Pour into greased and floured pans. Bake at 350 for one hour. If bread seems to be browning too quickly, cover loosely with foil.