Heart-Shaped Cinnamon Rolls
I remember the way the kitchen would change when I baked cinnamon rolls. The morning light tilted through the curtains and the air took on a slow sweetness. Hands dusted …
I remember the way the kitchen would change when I baked cinnamon rolls. The morning light tilted through the curtains and the air took on a slow sweetness. Hands dusted …
The oven hums low and warm as I test one last roll, watching the edge where syrupy peach juices meet tender dough and thinking about how small experiments make big …
I pulled a warm tray from the oven late one spring evening, the kitchen smelling of sugar and cinnamon, and felt a small thrill watching little ears brown and edges …