In Praise of Cinnamon Buns

Standard

I sit here staring somewhat guiltily at the large slab of deliciousness topped with glistening sweet glaze sitting on a plate next to me.  It’s Sunday morning.  The air is crisp, the sky is a vivid blue and the sun is shining on the fall colours turning them to sparkling jewels on the trees outside.

The siren call of the local bakery down the street was just too strong today.  And, why not? I ask.  It’s a beautiful day.  Life should be fun, they say and what could be more fun than indulging in some excess calories with one’s morning coffee on a splendid autumn day?   

My husband is, sadly, at the office on this fine morning.  The kids are elsewhere.  The kitten stalks squirrels through the living room window and ignores my repeated pleas for attention.  And, so I turned to the bakery for solace which doesn’t happen very often even though it is mere yards from our front door.  We would all weigh 500 pounds if we indulged ourselves there too often. 

In summer when her doors are open to let in the cool morning air, we can smell the cinnamon buns baking.  If the wind is right, it’s as if they are being baked right on our front porch.  Heather’s baguettes are pure perfection, crusty on the outside and slightly chewy within.  They are the perfect companion to any saucy dish from stews to soups to spaghetti w/ marinara.  Even the whole grain, rustic versions are good.  But the buns, they are in a league of their own.

The cinnamon buns are light for their size – each bun is the size of a small Fiat.  Topped with just the right amount of frosting, they are everyone’s favourite and demand often outpaces supply.  A neighbour of ours was once seen sprinting down the street with a box under each arm.  Such hoarding is not tolerated!  He was duly reported to the Breakfast Bread Police.  A maple pecan bun is the size of a small downtown condo and not for the faint of heart.  In fact, anyone with any sugar or fat related health concerns should run not walk away from these decadent confections.  To eat a whole one is an act of gluttony as each could easily feed a family of four.

So I sit enjoying a quiet Sunday with a cup of strong black coffee and a super-sized sticky bun (purchased still warm from the oven).  For a few minutes, I don’t care about anything else.  Sometimes one must indulge.  I will work it off raking leaves later.  In the meantime –  Yum.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s