Every surface in my kitchen is covered in frustration and flour. So you know what that means . . . *jazz hands* Yep, I completely botched two batches of homemade cinnamon rolls last week. I suppose I should have stopped after my first failed endeavor, but what can I say? My sweet tooth was in control that day. At first, I thought everything was going pretty good. I’d been taking extra precautions, talking lovingly to my bubbling bowl of yeast, reading the recipe repeatedly and thoroughly. What I thought would be a simple bake turned into a dough catastrophe. A dozen cinnamon rolls had become the ultimate Bake Off (Baking Show) technical challenge.
My first attempt, the dough didn’t rise. I had baked cinnamon flavored hockey pucks. The second time, the butter in the rolls seeped out, causing them to spread and sink. All I kept hearing in my head was Paul Hollywood saying, “It’s ovah-proofed and ovah-worked.” Although the cinnamon rolls didn’t taste particularly bad, they sure as heck didn’t look good. Mary Berry would be so disappointed in me. They were very, in her words, “informal.” Things might have been better if I had someone giving me hilarious words of encouragement. Alas, I only had my dog, who I had convinced to sit next to me on the floor as I stared at the oven. I just couldn’t help myself. Baking had made me emotionally exhausted, anxious, but somewhat hopeful. I now understand why the bakers make fools of themselves on TV. Baking is stressful! You spend all that time, you put in all that effort, and then in one quick moment, POOF!, it’s all ruined. Baking is an arduous hobby, one that I dislike at times. But I’ve been told I shouldn’t let a couple of bad bakes bring me down. Despite the numerous warnings in my head, I will continue to try, try again.