GEFP Overnight Buttermilk Ciniyum Buns for Tena

I promised someone that I’d make these this weekend, and then I experienced huge waves of self-induced “family-first” guilt and basically wussed out. This doesn’t sit well with me – I don’t sign contracts lightly, I don’t shake hands unless I mean it, and I don’t go back on my word. (This means I’m always DEEPLY unhappy when other folks don’t take themselves and giving their word as seriously as I do, but that’s another show.)

Anyway, I promised Tena that I’d make breakfast this weekend. And, even after I explained to her my reasons for not going, and after I cancelled my trip, and ate a huge airfare fee, and told Scott I’d tour his estate some other time, I found myself looking at various places where I could overnight breakfast. It’s silly – I know she understands this wasn’t an easy call for me to make. I know that we’ll meet up at some point (hopefully prior to Wisconsin, assuming my health allows even for that trip), and I know she’s got a whole houseful of folks that she’s looking forward to hanging out with. (In fact, it’s 10:00pmCT currently, so they’re all seeing a movie right now.)

But a promise is a promise. I give you “GEFP’s Overnight Buttermilk Ciniyum Buns”. (Please note these are NEARLY identical to “AB’s Overnight Cinnamon Rolls”, except I add a healthy dash of Cayenne Pepper to the filing. It amps up the ciniyum mixture and, as my father says, “makes your tummy say ‘howdy'.") The dough is basic enough (eggs, sugar, butter, buttermilk, flour, yeast, salt) – and I will presume that you’re able to look up the “official recipe” so what I’m gonna show is only technique.

After resting and turning out the dough, the goal is to get it to a large rectangle – about a foot by a foot and a half, with the longest sides directly in front of you. If you are REALLY picky, you can cut the edges and such … as you can clearly see, I’m not that picky.
Your filling is a mix of brown sugar, a pinch of salt, a much more healthy pinch of Cayenne pepper, and cinnamon. (Don’t cheap out and use fake stuff on this – spend the green stuff for the real red stuff.)

Now ya’ dump the filling onto the dough, getting it as even as possible (knowing to keep a bit of edge free ‘cause it WILL push to the edges all by itself) and keeping about ½ an inch at the top, to seal things up.

Starting at the edge closest to you, roll the sheet away from you. You’ll NEVER be able to do a complete roll all at once, so work from the middle out, and then out to the middle. (Hopefully you’ve dusted the rolling surface enough so that there are no sticky problems.
When you get near the end of the filling and there’s less than a full turn left in the roll, bring the other edge up to the top. Spend some time evening things out, and then roll the entire log over, so the seam is on the bottom. Ideally, your log will be about as thick as your average rolling pin (‘tho it will likely be longer than one).
Using a serrated knife, figure out even slices from your log, factoring about 1 ½ inches for each roll. (The recipe says that you’ll be making 12 rolls, but that has more to do with how thin the dough is when you start with the roll and how big your rectangle was. I always seem to get anywhere between 13 and 15, honestly.) I also tend to start by cutting the entire log in half first – it’s just easier to work with that way for me, and yes, it’s prettier. (For those paying attention, yes that’s some of my copper collection on the far wall, those are some of my Shun knives in the Shun block, and that *is* a Foghorn Leghorn Tile in the upper right corner. What?)

The recipe says that the cut side of each roll should be placed on the bottom of the baking dish (which please GOD tell me you’ve buttered) but honestly, I’ve never had a problem with the rolls not rising. Here are my little beauties just prior to having an overnight party in the refrigerator. (You’ll see 13 here, but I couldn’t make myself toss out the two ends, so I wound up with 15 actually.)
After waking up to a hungry cat (and a nifty little migraine that would NOT let go of me dammit), I woke up my buns, so to speak, with a 30 minute rest in a cold oven, with only a steaming pan of hot water at the bottom rack to get ‘em going again. After a brief run to Starbucks, it was time to get the oven to 350 (remembering, of course, to remove my buns first) and I turned my attention to the cream cheese drizzle for the top. This is just cream cheese, milk, and powdered sugar but I probably triple-whip it just to make sure that it’s beyond smooth. (Not so much the fault of the powdered sugar, which I sift, but of the cream cheese not always blending well with the milk.)
A quick peek at my buns midway through to see how they’re doing – and heck, just to smell ‘em more.
And then back to the mixer to see how the icing is doing. I know I’m there when I get a good ribbon at the end of the whisk – like this.Upon a “ding”, the oven door is opened and … seriously, this must be what Heaven itself smells like. It’s spicy and yeasty and kinda sweet (not as much as you’d expect) and somewhat tangy (the buttermilk) and again, that’s all just the smell. And we’re not even DONE yet. These, however, are – they’re G,B and, I’m sure, D.Now the part that honestly I think is MOST nerve-wracking in this entire process? The part of cooking that I like the very least? It’s not the cleanup, or the occasional mishap, or picky eaters or anything … it’s the first slice. No matter WHAT I bake, the first slice for me, is a “now you’ve done it” thing. There’s no recovering from it. So – did I get it right? Yes. Yes, I did.
And now, I present the hot, creamy ending we all so richly deserve.

These are, dear people, my version of the “GEFP’s Overnight Buttermilk Ciniyum Buns”. Share them with someone you love today … er, tomorrow. You can MAKE ‘em today, but you’ll eat ‘em tomorrow.