Irene's Orange Rolls
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I never had the opportunity to meet my Grandmother Irene. She died before I was born, fighting a cancer that eventually took her life. She was a strong woman, raising my mother and her two sons on a farm in small town America. There are a few anecdotes my mother likes to share with my sister and me, both humorous and sad, so we can hope to know her too, if only in a small way.
Though I never had the chance to meet my grandmother, I feel as if I have gotten to know her most through her cooking. Over the years, my mother has shared her recipes with me, whether it was a meal she served on our dining room table, stories about the food she created, or a recipe card handwritten by her mother. Each recipe, big and small, allows me a small window to see into the person she was.
Her everyday food was simple, but no less delicious because of it. For breakfast, she would serve pancakes with a sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar, using a swirl of cream instead of maple syrup to bring in a little decadence. During the long days of summer, she'd serve up peaches and cream, taking advantage of seasonal fruits.
It was the holidays, however, where she showed the true love for her family to the extent she was willing to go with her food. During Christmas, she'd be up to her elbows in holiday treats. My grandfather fell head over heels for her signature honey cookies. For as long as she lived, she made sure he never went a winter without them. On Easter Sunday, she served up these bright orange rolls for a sweet breakfast. My mother tells me they grew to be quite famous around town. After tasting them for myself, it doesn't take much imagination to understand why.
My grandmother's photograph is proudly displayed in the kitchen; a felicitous reminder of where my relationship with the grandmother I never knew began. The picture is slightly faded, in sepia tones, but she's sitting tall, with a humble smile dancing across her lips. My mother looks just like her, from her eyes and her cheeks to her nose; sometimes I wonder if I do too, in a more subtle way.
I never imagined food would become the connection between myself and my heritage. I've learned the past and present can be connected by food and a simple recipe can reveal the heart and soul of its creator. As food was an expression of love for my grandmother, so it has become for me.
Irene's Orange Rolls have a bright, sweet citrus flavor. The dough is reminiscent of a brioche, made with sour cream and butter, and is an absolute dream to work with. The dough is rolled out and filled with a sweet mixture of orange zest and coconut before being rolled back up like little croissants. After coming out of the oven, golden and warm, an orange glaze is poured over top, which soaks deep into the rolls. These little gems keep for several days at room temperature and make for a wonderful breakfast for holidays and weekdays alike.
