Today there were cinnamon rolls. Allow me to go backwards in time and trace their origins.
They were sloppy messes when I shoveled them into the pan.
Waiting to be rolled up.
Had it risen to twice as big as it was when I started? Who the hell knows. I forged ahead; I was impatient.
The dough, kneaded for about 1.5 of the recommended 5 – 10 minutes. Take that, kneading.
I’m going backwards and creating a crime scene. A delicious, delicious crime.