Cookies and Rolls

My kitchen smells like chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon rolls.

Yesterday was hot. It was 30 degrees centigrade so I made yeast rolls. They rise so beautifully in the heat that it is worth turning on the oven for a while to bake them. I use an ancient recipe for these rolls and though my mother tells me that a bit of custard powder in the cinnamon mixture is really good I won't change my ways. I have been making these rolls for years. I mix hot milk, butter and eggs with flour, sugar and yeast and magic happens. After rising I punch the dough down and spread it out to receive the cinnamon, butter and sugar before rolling. But here is where I change things up if I feel like it. Yesterday I cut up some fresh pecan nuts and dusted them with a wee bit of chilli. They were rolled into the dough with the cinnamon mixture and the surprise was waiting to be sprung. I drizzled them with powdered sugar and milk when they were still hot. Sometimes it is a bad idea to wait until things cool down to put on the icing. Like love and heat - they mix so well together sometimes to make indescribable pleasure. Just like my rolls. I shared them and they were oohed and aahed and yummed over. My pleasure in sharing was immense. They linger in smell and memory.

Tonight was cold. Chocolate chip cookies felt right tonight. I put on my oldest, fondest apron over my pajamas and stirred the mixture with my 40 year old wooden spoon. I try new recipes for chocolate chip cookies all the time. I know the right proportions of butter and sugar and flour for these cookies so I know I will not fail. When a recipe says to use less butter than I know is right I do not try it. But the addition of a different sort of chocolate or something like peanut butter is worth a try. Some have worked well and will be baked again and some not as good - all have been eaten. I adore the feeling of rolling the cookies in my hands, patting them down a little with my fingers and using my granny's hand crochet pot holders to slip the cookie tray into the oven. The smell of cooking cookies is divine. The chocolate and vanilla combine to make me weak at the knees. When I was a girl I used to put a little pure vanilla extract behind my ear before I went to school and I was often followed around by boys, smelling the scent of the comfort of their own mother's kitchens, or imagining me as a wife who would bake them wonderful deserts after they married me. I was told this exact thing several times so I am not imagining it.

Now as I lay myself down to sleep, only a few meters from my kitchen, I can still smell the lingering wonderfulness and I am sure it will offer up sweet dreams in my sleep tonight. Tomorrow I will delight my friends with tasty bits of love. I may need to bake a cheesecake soon. Or make a chocolate torte. No special occasion better than the fact that it will be Thursday.