If there’s one sweet treat I can’t pass up, it’s fresh, warm Cinnamon Rolls… Maybe that’s because I’ve never been able to make them as perfectly as I dream they can be. The issue has always been the bun dough. But I think I’ve found a recipe that I can live with!
My Dad’s older sister, Aunt Dot, rest her soul, was a whiz with a rolling pin. She far excelled everyone else I knew as the creator of sweet pastries and buns. I got her recipe for Cinnamon Buns from her when I moved out of the ancestral manse to live in Res at college. And I tried many a time to make her Cinnamon Rolls. But they never turned out as scrumptious as hers…
Made it look easy
As with most of her specialties, Dot made ‘Perfect Cinnamon Buns’ look Easy. Didn’t even have to look at a recipe, much less open a book. And she worked to quickly, with such confidence, that I had to re-sort to my own fractured shorthand to write down what she used and what she did.
I’m not the only food writer who’s observed that what she accomplished – almost without thinking about it – isn’t easy. Conventional wisdom states that cooking is an art, but baking is a science. I will go so far as to record that she did use a measuring cup and spoons, But aside from a rolling pin an her bare hands, that was it.
What was her secret?
I never figured it out for myself. Of course, as good a cook as I have worked hard to become, I’ve never been a really confident or super-competent baker.
But the recipe Sister Erin found for me – after we got trapped, the other day, in a lengthy, nostalgic daydream about Dot’s delights – comes as close as I’ve yet found to what we still call, ‘the Aged Aunt’s version’.
What you need
The specific variety of cinnamon bun we are cribbing this recipe from is the Kanelbulle. It’s a Swedish classic of which I am certain my personal, cherished image of the perfect Cinnamon Roll is a direct descendant.
Once again, we’re trusting the authenticity of this recipe to Daily Wrap contributor Ewa Malinowska, who’s never led us astray in the past.
What you need
The recipe – like all the best classic and historic formuli – is simple.
- 500 g of flour,
- 40 g of fresh yeast,
- 50 g of sugar,
- 1 ⅓ cups warm milk,
- 80 g melted butter,
- 1/2 teaspoon of cardamon,
- 1/4 teaspoon of salt,
- 1 egg.
It calls for just 8 ingredients, including the big pinch of salt and the universal ‘secret’ Scandi-navian flavour note, Cardamon.
Key insights…
My instincts tell me, the fresh yeast and warmed milk are particularly important to the success of this dough. Though that combo is pretty common to many ancient and venerable breads. And I will take no shortcuts mixing the dough ingredients, following Malinowska’s instructions to the letter.
Following along on that theme, I always take special note of any specific kneading and/or rising time instructions a bread recipe specifies. Though this one doesn’t gauge anything in minutes.
I know that I tend to be impatient, and often under-knead breads. The ‘smooth and elastic’ guideline Malinowska provides is qualitatively specific, but quantitatively imprecise. Achieving her ideal may take some experimentation. I will force myself to err on the side of what, for me, would normally be excess kneading…
Finishing touches…
I’ll leave the filling and icing to you. Except to observe that the more filling you use, the stickier the buns sill be. And there’s nothing more mouthwatering than a classic cream cheese frosting on cin-namon buns! Do consider adding soft, plump raisins to the filling!
My take
For me, I think – hope – the additional instructions Malinowska provides, over and above what I wrote down observing Aunt Dot, will ultimately make the difference between my usual mediocre cinnamon buns and the perfection I’ve always sought.
And once I’ve perfected cinnamon rolls, I’ve already committed to extend my expertise to Danishes and the other national variants mentioned in the foundational Wikipedia article on this universal Eastern European and Scandinavian institution!
~ Maggie J.