One tiny shortcut to the cinnamon roll recipe, for the sake of saving some time, I reckon that’s how all great baking disasters begin. I’ll spare you the details of the process, since this is not a how-to recipe. And if it were, I would arguably be the least qualified person on Earth to teach it. But in my defense, cinnamon rolls from scratch are no small undertaking. My mistake? I used melted butter for the filling to speed things up—and boy did it ever. I started folding and everything started leaking out. Slowly at first. Then more aggressively, like just a flood of filling. Biblical—I’m talking Noah-sized.
I stood there watching sugary cinnamon butter sludge ooze off the rolls, first onto the cutting board, then across the counter. Within seconds it found its way into the drawers, and hell, why stop there? Final destination: the hardwood floor crevices, of course. I thought about fixing it. Like maybe I could scoop it up? Somehow redirect it? Contain it with the kitchen towels?
Instead I just stood there, stiff as a board, staring and swearing. “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit,” a little bit louder and more defeated with each new spot it soiled.
I did a full up and down, side to side scan of the damage and genuinely considered leaving, just… pretending this kitchen never existed. But we had company coming any minute, and I was nine months pregnant, so “quick cleanup” was out of the question.
Forty-five minutes later, I’d sacrificed every kitchen towel we own, and started in on the bath towels. (Another story for another time: Shortly after washing that oversized load of towels, the washing machine broke. Related? Most likely.)
Either way, I was standing there crying and announcing to no one, “I quit.”
Quite honestly, that’s what being American feels like right now. The recipe is ruined, the mess is seeping everywhere, and the orange man is standing in the middle of it all saying,
“Nobody’s ever seen cinnamon rolls like this, maybe the most perfect anybody’s ever made. I’d say these are the best ever, everybody agrees.”
UNSCRIPTED 