I love cinnamon buns. In a way that can only possibly be unhealthy. I can't describe my love of how soft the dough it, or how the filling ripples out of the coiled goodness in melted rivers of sweet. But I can tell you that I once had a rule - that, for several years, whenever I saw a cinnamon bun at a coffee shop or other diner of sorts, I was required to buy it. I had to have it and try it.
And then my metabolism shifted.
And then I realized how many places sell cinnamon buns just so that people fooled by their love for them would purchase them.
And then, momentarily, I felt like a fool in love.
But I can tell you that I was (and continue to be) so rarely disappointed by buns involving cinnamon. Because I love them. And always will.
And, just for clarification, baking is a fine, fine activity. I've not been able to make a truly phenomenal batch of cinnamon buns yet, but I'm gettin' there...
