Triple (Minus One) Cinnamon Scones

King Arthur got me again with their emails. I am like a yellow chubby little sitting duck and they just fill my butt with buckshot because I am so slow-moving and easy to hit. This is just getting ridiculous!

This is the recipe in the original form.

Naturally, I could not leave well enough alone. You know, because I never do. Also, my back hurt, and I had PMS and my children were acting like total lunatics and Mr. Smith was working late, so I skipped the cinnamon filling. So sue me. I actually thought the cinnamon filling would push the cinnamon ratio too far over the top, so I decided to leave it out.

I love me some cinnamon, but too much of a good thing is still just too much.

Now, let's talk about scones.

I have never really been a fan of scones. They are arid too dry and not sweet enough for me. Also, I inherited my mother's ability to burn them beyond all recognition and render them inedible. Our oven is insanely hot, so this can happen very, very easily. In the blink of an eye, I have charcoal briquettes on my hands. Very frustrating.

True confession, sort of: I may or may not have eaten three of these for dinner. Look, I was left alone. There was so much going on and well, I was weak.


I would imagine these would be lovely with some orange zest glaze and some mini chocolate chips. Oh brother, here I go again!

And the results are in...

my tummy, that is!

When I was in college, I worked in a movie theater as a cashier. I was the girl in the glass booth, selling tickets. I had to wear a maroon bow tie and matching polyester vest. We all shared the vests and believe me, they got pretty stinky. I still hate the smell of movie theater popcorn burning. Sends me on an extended flashback.

It was the first upscale theater in our area, so it was pretty big news. We sold ridiculous things like ice cream, espresso, Swiss chocolate and Jelly Belly jelly beans. Don't ask me why, but it was extremely popular.

Down the red carpeted ramp, to the left was a kiosk that sold cinnamon rolls, pecan buns and other heavenly creations. The owners were so smart, they would come and get the movie schedule from us (the one that charted all the exit times of the different theaters for the ushers) so they could have fresh, warm, seductive rolls ready for people leaving the movies.

The smell, oh the smell, wafting into my bullet-proof booth was unbelievable. You could smell them anywhere in the mall. The cinnamon fingers of the perfume, luring you to the spot where you could purchase the delight. Okay, so now I am drooling.

Until now, I have not found a Sticky Bun to rival those. This recipe is a winner. Yes, it requires a bit of planning and yes, it makes three pans of these Sticky Buns. Take my work for it, you won't be sorry to have three pans of these things. Your clothes may be a little tighter, and yes, you may have to go a few extra minutes on the treadmill.

So make the room in the fridge.






Yes, that is, in fact, melted butter that those soon-to-be Sticky Buns are swimming in right there.

Yup. Made the Sticky Buns, baked the Sticky Buns, ate the Sticky Buns.

I am not going to lie, they were still warm when I ate them. I am also not going to feel guilty about it! It was out of my hands, dammit. The blame belongs with those bastards (I mean that in the kindest sense of the word!) at King Arthur Flour.

I mean, are you kidding me? Just look at that molten sugar, oozing down the sides.

Is there are more sublime concoction than butter, sugar and cinnamon? I think not. The sugar changes into sweet lava during the baking. When the are still hot, you flip the pan over and have the ultimate decadent indulgence. Gooey, sweet, warm Sticky Buns.

A few notes, I used walnuts instead of pecans. I didn't have any pecans on hand, and honestly, I like walnuts better.

I also made my own cinnamon filling with granulated sugar, cinnamon and a little water. Worked just as well and saved having to order their stuff and wait for it to arrive. After I saw the recipe, that was completely out of the question.

Lastly, I used some honey and some Karo syrup and it worked just fine as well. It seems like a pretty bulletproof recipe, so change it up to suit your tastes!

Worth the Trouble

Sorry for the extended silence. Things around here have been...well...exhausting.

We are attempting to navigate the treacherous and choppy waters of graduating from crib to "Big Boy Bed." This has been terribly ugly and sleep-deprived.

Thankfully Grammy came up with a solution that can remedy the situation in the short term and we all got a decent night's sleep last two night.

Whew! What a difference a day or two can make.



Today, rather than try to bake something from scratch, I ventured into the wonderful world of King Arthur Flour again.

If you enjoy baking (or cooking, for that matter) please go to their web site. You will not be disappointed. They have virtually everything you might need to bake. They also have some very good mixes and kits to make all different types of muffins, breads, etc.



These were up today. Now, I will warn you, these are more involved than most muffin mixes. I was pretty crabby when I was putting these together (still haven't gotten enough sleep to not be crabby). There are four parts and it seemed like too much work. That being said, the results are so completely worth it.

There is the muffin batter, the filling batter, the streusel and the glaze for the tops of the muffins. Yikes! But look at these beautiful things...are you drooling yet?

Yeah, I know.



Mr. Smith is not a fan of muffins in general. (I know, I know, I married him anyway. You can't have everything!) However, Mr. Smith LOVED these. He also suggested insulin, since they are on the sweet side.

Hilda's Molasses Sugar Cookies

My grandmother, more specifically, my father's mother, Hilda, is a force of nature.

By the way, I have always wondered, how, in the name of all that is holy, you look at your newborn daughter (your fifth) and decide to name this innocent child Hilda. Never got that one. Ran out of names? Really wanted to give a name that you would only hear in a damn German opera?

Anyway, Hilda is the rock of my father's family. She is the one that loaded the kids and their belongings into a car every summer and drove to whatever small town baseball team had employed Barney (my grandfather).

I can picture her fierce determination, packing the car, making the most of the space they had available, taking all the things that they could not live without during the hot summer. Hurtling toward heaven knew what, her babies in the car, probably just in their underwear since that was before the days of automotive air conditioning. Another small town, another unsuitable apartment over a brothel or funeral parlor, another adventure.

She had to be tough. She was one of 12 children. Esther, Jim, Herb, Bob, John, Millie, Alice, Grace, Hilda, Tom, Eddie, and Pat scattered over a span of 25 years.

She wanted to get out of Lucinda. One of the nuns told her when she was a girl that the best thing she could do is get the heck out that town. Hilda really took that one to heart.

Hilda wanted out. Out of Lucinda, out of the ceaseless intermarriage, small town-ness that Lucinda still hasn't shaken off.

He had a one-way ticket. He did not intend to come back and that was all she needed to hear.

So she married a dreamer. The one guy in Lucinda, PA with a dream and a one-way train ticket. He didn't want to be a farmer or a miner. He wanted something completely off the map. He wanted to play baseball.

He took his one-way ticket and what little money he had. He didn't have enough to make it back, so it was sink or swim time. He swam.

And they were on their way.

He got a contract with the St. Louis Browns. He eventually became a manager/coach for a multitude of minor league teams. In the off season he would take whatever job would get them through the winter until the season started up again.


Barney in the dugout, one of many.


This was a time when there were no million dollar signing bonuses. You were lucky if you kept your gig from one season to the next. Where Barney was, there was no glamor, no glitz, no shine. Their's was not a charmed life, but they made a living.

Each winter, he would get a contract, skim it quickly and hurl it into the corner. There it would sit until he was ready to read it again and consider signing it. He always did. He could not stay away.

Watch Bull Durham and you will get a taste of what his life was like. What their lives were like.

He would go to Spring Training in Paris, Texas or Bluefield, West Virginia or any one of a thousand places that had a baseball team. Once school finished for the children (there were eventually four, my father and three sisters) she would follow. Always loyal, always willing to make do, always ready for the adventure, a true pioneer spirit.

This recipe was one of those perennial favorites in the Lutz household. Hilda has a real sweet tooth and likes to have a little something around to indulge it.

This recipe is written exactly as she wrote it on the card. And it is just like her. No flowery descriptions of method. Just the facts.

One time, about a million years ago, we were helping her move. She made sure to have the ice bucket/cookie jar in her car for the trip from one apartment to the other. She very slyly suggested that I check and see if there was anything in the cookie jar.

We ate them while she drove. Speeding forward toward her next adventure.


Hilda's Molasses Sugar Cookies
3/4 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup molasses
1 egg
2 cups sifted flour
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. cloves
1/2 tsp. ginger
1/2 tsp. salt

Cream shortening, sugar, molasses and egg. Beat well. Sift together dry ingredients. Mix well, cover, chill. Form into 1 inch balls. Bake 375° for 8-10 minutes.

Cupcakes, cupcakes and more cupcakes

Easter is upon us. Okay, it is actually Sunday, but I like to be prepared. Either way, Spring is upon us. It has sprung, so to speak. And a girl's fancy turns to baking cupcakes.

Several years ago, 5 to be exact, I was single (not young, not by a longshot) and had far too much free time on my hands. My brother, sister-in-law and their two children were coming for a visit, so I wanted to make a special dessert for their visit.

My nephew, AZ, has a very special place in his heart for all things chocolate-related. I think I could dip a car bumper in chocolate and he would very willingly eat it. This is the same kid who hates casseroles because the food touches. You know they type.

Well, I made a batch of each of these cupcakes and he and my niece, AP, were over the moon for them.

The reason? They use these nifty little panettone papers, so they are smaller than everyday cupcakes. They just look a little fancier and a little more special. Perfect for an Easter gathering, a tea party, Mother's Day, Father's Day...you pick the occasion. You can make the ahead and frost them when you are ready. You can add any type of decoration on top.

Basically, very adaptable, very portable, look fancy, AND kid friendly. PERFECTION!

Cinnamon-Scented Chocolate Cupcakes
Orange Cardamom Cupcakes

Photo courtesy of Bon Appetit, June 2004.

Sunday Morning Breakfast

We are big fans of breakfast around here. There are several members of the family that are HUGE fans of breakfast for any meal.

Just last week we had pancakes, bacon, sausage and scrambled eggs for dinner. Something for everyone.

When Mr. Smith found out we were having breakfast for dinner this was the response: "Hot Diggity Dog!"

Last night I mixed up the Pioneer Woman's Baked French Toast to have for breakfast this morning.

All I can say is, "Wow!"

I know, I know. It is hard to get your head around the fact that this contains pita chips. And it will remain hard to comprehend, right up until you put that first sweet, blueberry filled bite into your mouth.

The smell in the house, first thing in the morning, cinnamon, brown sugar, big, juicy blueberries...forget it, just too good to be true.

Go for it, you won't regret it.