Dry Bread.

Bread and I are not friends. I have no success in making it and it makes my hips fat. That said, we had the Smyth Uncles to stay this weekend... 

...and I thought I'd try to make something special. I decided on cinnamon rolls.


This is my third attempt at the rolls. The first result were 2 dozen glazed hockey pucks. (The dough didn't rise; it turned out my yeast was dead.) The second attempt was successful, but not a true cinnamon roll as I used leftover Christmas mincemeat filling. The third attempt was a success! The dough rising was my proudest moment as it involved sheer ingenuity...


I know I live in a drafty Victorian house, but I didn't know it was too cold to get dough to rise. It is. I've tried putting dough on the top of boiler; on top of the fridge; on the radiator; in a low oven; an oven that was on, then turned off; in an oven that had hot a basin of hot water in it... Basically, I tried every place that I thought was at least marginally warmer than our ambient temperature. My final solution...

Dough in the dryer! Perfect warm and humid environment for my dough to rise.

Delicious!