Z’hanie Weaver: A reunion through pecan cinnamon rolls
Life pulls you in different directions, creating distance even between the closest of bonds. Yet, time seems to stop in the kitchen, and the world feels just a little lighter.
I found myself, back in the warm, fragrant embrace of my grandmother, ready to bake her “famous” – to me – pecan cinnamon rolls, like old times.
Growing up, my grandma’s house was where the scent of freshly baked goods and the sounds of “old” shows like “Harry Potter” and “Charmed,” made everything feel magical.
We spent countless afternoons and evenings together, whipping up batches of fudge, pies and peppermint bark, especially as Thanksgiving approached.
Baking was our tradition, our way of connecting, and I learned so much more from her than how to properly measure flour or knead dough.
This time, though, was different. It had been six long years since I’d last seen her.
Would things be the same? Would our rhythm in the kitchen have changed?
Stepping into the Spokane’s American Indian Community Center, seeing her, and falling into conversation, it was as if no time had passed.
She greeted me with her familiar, warm smile and a kitchen already prepped for baking. The ingredients for her pecan cinnamon rolls – the very ones I’d been dreaming of – were laid out on the counter, and I felt that comforting sense of home wash over me.
There’s something almost sacred about baking with someone you love, especially when it’s someone who’s been a guiding presence in your life.
I’m not a chef – I’ve never claimed to be one – but in her kitchen, I’m a baker. And that’s enough.
Making those cinnamon rolls was more than just following a recipe. It was a dance she perfected over the years. Yet, in ways I managed to trump her, bringing a new way to tie the dough with the sweetness of the cinnamon sugar rub – that she doubted endlessly.
I could almost predict her next move – how she’d roll the dough just right, with a practiced hand as she even had to help me at times.
We reminisced about the days spent watching Harry battle dark wizards or the Halliwell sisters vanquish demons, with the smell of cinnamon and sugar always in the background.
Her pecan cinnamon rolls are legendary; they’re the kind of treat that, once you’ve had them, you can never quite forget.
They’re soft, and gooey, with just the right balance of sweetness and spice, and a crunch from the pecans that adds a perfect contrast.
Dough
1 package of yeast
1 cup milk
½ cup white sugar
1 teaspoon salt
4½ cups flour
⅓ cup butter
2 eggs
Preheat oven 400 degrees. Grease pan (Use butter spray or melted butter). Mix yeast with warm milk and white sugar. Dissolve and let rise 30 minutes in a warm area. Mix salt and butter in the yeast mixture. Add 1 egg and 2¼ cups of flour to the yeast mixture and mix well. Then add rest of flour and other egg, mixing again. Let rise for 30 more minutes.
Cinnamon filling
⅓ cup melted butter
1 cup packed brown sugar
2½ tablespoon of cinnamon
1½ cup pecans, finely chopped
Mix the sugar and cinnamon together. Roll out your dough. Spread the ⅓ cup butter on the dough then add the cinnamon and brown sugar mixture to spread over the dough (2.0 Version: Mix melted butter, cinnamon and brown sugar into a rub and spread it on the dough, by Z’hanie). Sprinkle the pecans.
Roll the dough tight into a log. Cut the dough into slices (approximately 2 fingers wide), place in greased pan and let rise 30 minutes. Cook for 10-15 minutes (Or until golden brown).
Frosting
4 ounces of cream cheese, softened
¼ cup butter, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla
1¾ cup of powder sugar
Mix ingredients together until smooth. Frost cinnamon rolls.
Beyond their deliciousness, these cinnamon rolls hold a special place in my heart; they represent so much more than just food. They’re a symbol of the bond I share with my grandma, a connection that has withstood the test of time and distance.
As we pulled the rolls out of the oven, golden and bubbling with cinnamon-sugar goodness: our relationship, much like those cinnamon rolls, has layers – layers of love, tradition and shared experiences.
Baking with my grandma after six years was a reminder that no matter how much time passes, some things never change.
The kitchen will always be our special place, where we can reconnect, laugh and create something beautiful together.
And those pecan cinnamon rolls, well, they’ll always be our little slice of heaven.