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Maple-Pecan Cinnamon Rolls

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I read this in a magazine many moons ago and I cut it out and posted it on my fridge:  For the passionate Cook, a grocery run is not an errand.  It’s an art form. 

I believe I found it around the first time my husband tried to accompany me to the grocery store.  He seemed to think that it was a divide and conquer kind of event that we needed to complete in the fastest amount of time possible.  Now, I’m not saying that I need to walk down every aisle, every time, but I do like to look around.  And, more importantly, you don’t just throw everything on the belt at the checkout.  I took time selecting those pears and tomatoes and I don’t want them tossed about.  I don’t think that’s unreasonable or psychotic in any way.  Needless to say, I now go to the grocery store alone.

Anyway, what made me think about this little quote is how, for me, a new recipe sometimes brings a new ingredient  and a little adventure.  Well, this one from the Flat Belly Diet Family Cookbook brought two.  First was the white whole wheat flour.  I was vaguely aware of such a thing, but figured I should check Whole Foods.  Boy, was  I wrong.  They didn’t have it.  But there it sat at my little Publix, made by King Arthur of course. 

Next was trans-free margarine.  Well, I am definitely not an expert on margarine.  I ate it growing up (before trans-fat was discovered)  and I’m pretty sure my mother’s choice was Blue Bonnet.  Actually, my mother’s choice for the kids, while she enjoyed the real butter, because we didn’t appreciate the real thing.  I know, it’s practically child abuse.  Frankly, she was right.  When I started dieting in the ’90s extraneous butter was the first thing to go.  Not on veggies, not on toast, not on pancakes.  I know, it sounds sacrilegious, but really I survived.  I must admit, though, my obsession with the Barefoot Contessa and my recent trip to France has turned me into a butter believer again.  I’m all about Land O’Lakes, because of my Indian heritage; Cabot, because of Ina Garten, or Plugra, because of the French thing. 

But the point is that I don’t use margarine and I certainly don’t know what brand is trans-free.  I wound up with I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, which I guess means it’s margarine.  Whatever!   All this means is that I must have looked like a moron standing there for what seemed like 30 minutes reading every label.   It’s a good thing my husband wasn’t there.

Enough about that .  These cinnamon rolls were good, but not as gooey as I would have liked.  They aren’t exactly hard to make, but they certainly are time-consuming.   I am not a morning person, so I had these as an afternoon snack.   After an hour on top of the fridge, and giving it that highly anticipated punch, rolling them out and filling them, another 45 minutes on top of the fridge, my little beauties were ready to go in the oven.

And then after 30 minutes in the oven, they really don’t look that much different, but they smelled great!

Fortunately I can freeze them too.

Eat Well and Savor.

 

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About Monica

A court reporter who likes to cook, and travel, and go to the spa, and read, and spoil her dog.

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