October. That golden hour of the year, red hues of a lowering light tinging fallen apples with amber as dusk descends. The air smells like woodsmoke, sounds like sweet brown wrens scratching amongst the dried leaves under gurggling gutters, and feels like thick hand knit sweaters, rough and comforting.
All I really want to do in those brisk autumn mornings, after acknowledging the moon’s reluctant disappearance into an illuminating sky, is pad into the quiet kitchen, crack kindling for a fire, and gently tip my risen sourdough onto the counter. At least one cat will weave between my feet, and the tea kettle will be warming. As tired as I am the evening before, I’m always grateful for the kneading I did before heading to bed, and for the wonder of a billowy dough in the proofing box. I’m especially grateful if it’s early enough to promise cinnamon rolls for breakfast, and feel slightly queen-like when I offer them to my children still rubbing their eyes from slumber. What queen would have riches as I, however, I do wonder.
And so you see now, I hope, one of the reasons I don’t do book signings or speeches. I am terrible at marketing, and have come to embrace that reality. Because I’d rather sweep my floor meditatively while trying to put words to the ephemeral moments of my life. I’d rather snuggle on my metal stool with my sleepy five year old and deeply inhale the scent of his head. And because the first book I wrote on being present wasn’t just a book: it was and is the wrestle between living in the moment of what is versus living for what I hope will be.
All that to say, thank you. Thank you, dear readers, both silver and gold, for pondering with me the essence of a faithful life, and for allowing me the peculiarities of how that plays out. Thank you for your sympathy as I lack consistency in showing up (and even in the methods in which I do!), and for your benevolent messages and easygoing humors. I do feel a kinship with you, whether you are in a humble kitchen or in a bustling city center. We are all moving through our lives fighting the good fight and praying to be good witnesses, and yes, it is October for us all wherever we are.
As this fourth book comes out, I send out my deepest gratitude to you all, and pray that this offering will be a blessing and a help to many. I know you are doing a good work, too. Keep your eyes on Jesus, and I shall continue to endeavor to do the same. What a joyous time we shall have at the banquet to come!
Here is a recipe for Sourdough Cinnamon Rolls. Should you decide to make them, I suggest giving yourself a quiet moment, sitting outside with a warm slice, a hot mug of something, and a blanket about the shoulders. I find that kind of thing makes everything taste even better.
I do my utmost to get the best quality ingredients, such as organic, or whole raw milk. Good ingredients also make everything taste better.
In a bowl (I use the Kitchen Aid mixer), mix:
2 cups of culture
1/2 cup milk
8 TB unsalted butter (113g)
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp salt
3 TB brown sugar
(option: if you want an orange flavor, you can add 1-2 drops of sweet orange essential oil here. Sometimes I take out the vanilla if I do that)
Then, add slowly while mixing with a dough hook:
3 cups all-purpose flour (420g)
(depending on the weather, it may be a smidge less or more than that; you want the dough to come together, but not be too dry).
Mix on low speed for at least 5-6 minutes, until smooth.
Cover and let proof overnight at room temperature (around 70 degrees). If your kitchen gets chilly like mine, I highly recommend this proofing box. It works great, and is one of my most favored kitchen helps.
The next morning, gently pour the dough out onto a clean, floured counter and let it rest for about 30 minutes.
Get a large pan ready with brushed, melted butter.
After resting, form gently into a ball and roll as needed into the flour so that your dough isn’t crazy sticky. Then, use a rolling pin and roll it into a rectangle (or “ish” ).
Onto the rectangle:
brush 2TB of melted butter
sprinkle on 1 TB cinnamon
sprinkle on raisins, chopped apples, chopped walnuts, or whatever you like!
Gently roll it lengthwise, with the seam down. I find a bench scraper helpful for this, and sometimes add a little more flour as I go to help me get it lifted off the counter.
I use a serrated knife and as gently as I can, cut it down the middle first. Then I cut the two halves in half. Then I cut the four logs into thirds. You should have 12 rolls. Don’t be discouraged if you smushed them a bit; they will rise! (You too, when smushed a bit, WILL RISE!). Set them each gently, with the spiral up, into the buttered pan.
Cover and let proof for a couple of hours. If it’s early enough, you could give yourself a spa morning while it’s proofing and the kids are still snoozing!
Once it is raised (to the cover), remove the cover and gently brush the tops with (you guessed it) more butter. Bake in a 350 degree oven until done, about 25-30 minutes depending on your oven, the weather, and whatever else that makes baking wonky.
Let it cool on a wire rack. Seriously. Let. It. Cool. I know, I know. But seriously. Trust me. It doesn’t have to be *cold*, but *cool* enough not to melt your topping!
Topping: you have options, and all of the measurements here are guessings (sorry!)
option one: 6 oz room temperature cream cheese with 4 TB butter (yup, more butter), 1 1/2 tsp of vanilla extract, and enough powdered sugar to get it to that creamy spreadable stage. If you go too far (or even if you don’t), you can add a TB or two of milk.
option two: 1 cup of powdered sugar, 4 TB of melted butter, 1/2 tsp cinnamon, 1/4 tsp allspice, 1/4 tsp ginger, 1/4 tsp cardamom, and enough milk to get it creamy (not soupy—add slowly!)
option three: a cup of powdered sugar, a couple TB of brewed coffee, a splash of maple syrup, and a drop of sweet orange essential oil
option four: make up your own. You won’t mess it up. And even if you do, you’ll learn from it and probably still lick the bowl clean anyway.
ENJOY! Let me know how it goes for you!