This was my first time using instant yeast. The recipe instructions explained that you mix the yeast with warm water and let it set for 5 minutes. After you let the yeast sit, you mix it in with your ingredients and let the dough rise to "twice its size." Here is where I sit. And sit. Check on the dough and realize it still hasn't risen to "twice it's size" yet. Then, I sit some more. What happened to easy?
Several hours later, the dough is ready to be rolled out. (Finally!) I roll out the dough, brush melted butter onto it, and then generously sprinkle cinnamon and sugar all over the top. Next, you roll the dough into a log shape and cut the dough into 1" pieces. Grease your baking dish and set unbaked rolls inside. Now, your instructed to let the rolls rise again. (Seriously, again?) Clearly annoyed now that it's 3:30 p.m. and neither Jon or I are getting cinnamon rolls for our brunch, I cover the dish in clear plastic wrap and let the rolls do their thing. I turn on the television and watch two episodes of "The Pioneer Woman" to regain some of my baking inspiration.
I return to the kitchen to find that the rolls have risen and I can't contain my excitement. I quickly turn on the oven timer and place the rolls inside. I sit myself back on the couch for more Food Network, happy as a clam that my exhausting baking experience is nearly done. Fifteen minutes later, it hits me.
Oh, no.
Oh, no, no, no....
In my excitement to devour these delicious baked goods, I forgot to remove the clear plastic wrap I placed on the dish to let the rolls rise a second time. So I do what every normal person in my current situation would do. I pull the cinnamon rolls out of the oven that are now covered in melted plastic, sink to the floor, and cry. Even thinking about it right now makes me cringe. And for a brief moment, in my haze of a baking disaster, I think, how dangerous is it really to eat melted plastic. A quick Google search results in answers that include, "Call Poison Control" and I'm brought back to reality. I get up off the kitchen floor and dump my beautiful, non-edible rolls down the kitchen garbage disposal.
And then I do what only a crazy person would.
I start over.
Jon and I didn't get to eat the cinnamon rolls til' about midnight and I have to say, they were the best cinnamon rolls EVER. The were cinnamon-sugar-vanilla glaze-baked perfection. I told Jon to savor every bite because I would never make them again. But, just thinking about how good they were makes me consider changing my mind. Maybe.
