Chocolate Filled Buns

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Chocolate Filled Buns

Chocolate Filled Buns

Today I spent a good long while searching for a particular book on clay sculpting. It was in my closet (which could very well be compared to a black hole. Once something goes in, it never comes out). I have several boxes in my closet marked "Random Keepsakes," which had been packed away long before I set off for college. I had an inkling what I was searching for would be in there, somewhere, even though I had little idea what any of the boxes held. There was nothing I could do but dig in and see where it would take me.

Opening boxes from the past is like opening a can of worms. The good, the bad, the ugly, the silly embarrassing moments I'd forgotten about were all staring me in the face. This is me, summed up through years of diaries, rock collections, and the random objects I thought important enough to save. Like it or not (embarrassed or not), the only choice I had was to embrace it.

Chocolate Filled Buns

Among my findings was a small notebook where every page, every line, was filled with tiny little scribbles—proof of my desperate desire to prove to my mother that I could write in cursive despite the fact that I could barely print my own name. A photography album was filled with my first roll of film in which I managed to cut off the head of every single person in the album. I like to think of it as a highly artistic concept for a seven year old instead of the fact that I couldn't aim if my life depended on it. I also kept a diary for two whole days, which displays the drama and angst of my 10 year old self quite well. In fact, it's too good not to share with you.

The first page says "Goal: to write every day" (obviously I was not so good at following through on that one).

April 3rd, 2000
Dear Diary,
Today I lost my shoe. Mom yelled a LOT. Still not found. My favorite shoe with the black yellow stripes. Social studies test tomorrow. Tonight had to go to a self-defense course. Boring!

April 4th, 2000
Dear Diary,
Today I search for my shoe and I still can't find it. Test went well. Kickball was horrible. Only me and Amanda and the rest were boys. Ugh! I played outside for hours. Still aren't use to daylight savings time.

While some questions remain unanswered (how did I lose that shoe when it was supposed to be on my foot? Did I honestly not notice?), the truth tends to remain. At 10 years old I still thought boys had cooties, I was up in arms about what my favorite shoe actually looked like, and maybe (even still) it does take me a few days to adjust to daylight savings.

Digging into the past has always been an interesting event for me, even if what I find is humiliating or uncomfortable. It always strikes a strong nostalgic chord, showing me a little bit of who I am as well as how far I've come. And thank goodness I've come a long, long ways.

Chocolate Filled Buns

These Chocolate Filled Buns are sweet and rich. I took the basic bread recipe from my Honey Rolls, sweetened up the dough with a bit of sugar and orange zest, and added one of my vices—chocolate. The buns look savory until you take a bite. Your taste buds will instead be greeted with subtle orange flavors and rich, melted chocolate (and who wouldn't like that surprise?). These are quite simple to make for a yeasted dough and the well worth the effort.

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Honey Rolls

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Honey Rolls

Honey Rolls

Bread and I have grown close together over the years—at times, almost too close. You see, bread is one of those "dangerous friends" that your mother warned you about (except she was probably talking about those kids in high school instead of the food you eat, but the lesson is the same). Bread is the friend that is oh so fun (and tasty) to be around in moderation. But the more you spend time together, the more you'll realize that Bread also has a hidden agenda.

Bread loves to encourage you to make bad decisions (like eat moremoremore). You see, bread is insecure about her own bulky weight—she thinks she's a heavy cinnamon log when she's really just a light dinner roll—and would love to see you gain a few (dozen) pounds to make her feel better about herself.

Honey Rolls

Over breakfast, she'll hint that a fifth piece of toast might hold you until lunch. Over lunch, she'll ask if you want another helping of bread and cheese (and have you ever been able to turn that down?). Over dinner, she'll softly encourage you to grab another dinner roll to soak up that last bit of gravy.

Whenever I try to distance myself from bread for more than a week, we'll end up bumping into each other in the supermarket. She'll complain that we don't spend nearly enough time together and ask me if we're still friends because I haven't called in awhile. She'll make me feel guilty enough to plan a dinner date for the following evening (where I'll eat an entire fresh baguette with baked brie).

Bread and I have fallen into this trap before. We'll spend too much time together (like an entire week) and suddenly my pants are a little too tight. I think I need to start listening to my mother and be more careful of those dangerous friends.

Then again, maybe I'll get on that after I finish eating another one of these...

Honey Rolls

These honey rolls are soft, tender, and sweet. The rolls are sweetened with honey and coated with a layer of honey and butter. They are a little on the denser side, but no heavier than your average dinner roll. These are the perfect beginning or side to any meal. You'll definitely have a hard time eating just one or two. I caved and ate three; can you really blame me?

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Yeasted Waffles

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Yeasted Waffles

yeasted waffles

I was never one who really enjoyed waffles. Whenever they were on the menu, I'd complain (loudly) and begrudgingly stomach one. I could stand them if need be, but I didn't really like them. They were always too thick, too chewy, too soggy, or too thin. They never were just the right combination of these characteristics. Perhaps this makes me a waffle snob.

I used to eat waffles covered with a thick spread of peanut butter and jelly. I quickly learned that waffles are not a substitute for bread. However, I'll hesitantly admit that I don't really mind toaster waffles that much (I know, I know). But seriously, who are they (and I) trying to kid? They are nothing like real waffles.

Perhaps I am not a waffle snob after all.

yeasted waffles

Lately, I've noticed yeasted waffles being touted as the "best waffle ever" throughout the internet. This makes me wonder—could it be true? Today I decided to put them to the test. If I couldn't like the "best waffle ever", then there is no hope that I could ever enjoy them.

Luckily for all of us, these really are the best waffles ever. I ate four. Yes, four. Call me converted.

I know the word "yeast" can scare off a few of you, but these are an absolute cinch to make and you couldn't mess them up unless you really, really tried. Scout's honor. Simply throw a few ingredients into a bowl, allow it to sit overnight, and in the morning you'll have perfect waffles.

Perfect waffles.

I just wanted to point that out again.

yeasted waffles

These yeasted waffles are really something special. The outside is crisp and crunchy while the inside stays moist and tender. They are not too thick or thin and never soggy (unless you drown them in too much syrup). Make these because they are delicious and easy. Make these because you've also been curious about the best waffle ever. Make these because you'll never look back.

Perfect waffles.

It needed to be said one more time.

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