Bun Worshippers, August 27th

Ok, ok, get your mind out of the gutter! When I say bun worship I’m talking about an unnatural love of cinnamon buns or sticky buns or sweet rolls, carby companions to coffee, or circular carrot cake creations that outweigh their banana cake compadres on the ol’ kitchen Richter scale. When I was growing up two things were true: ONE: There was not a drop of gooey white artificial sugary frosting left in that plastic ramekin after we scraped it clean upon the successful task of topping those Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls hot out of the oven. (No, we didn’t wait until they were fully cooled. Duh. Don’t you know my clan by now?)

And B– If we were in the City and within a 20-block range of William Greenberg Jr. Desserts, my Mother would demand that we stop for her all-time favorite treat, Sticky Buns. Schnecken, as they are technically known are made with a signature sour cream yeast dough that is then rolled with raisins, pecans, brown sugar, and cinnamon. Her BFF Estelle Ann was a power fan of them as well. (Yes, they were known to be pastry partners in crime, devouring those nutty topped breakfast cakes in record time.) And I think it’s important to mention here that in his youth, my Dad used to frequent Mardorf Bakery around the corner from where he grew up in Haverstraw, New York. Mardorf’s sold Crumb Buns, my Dad’s favorite. But he couldn’t pronounce that as a kid, so he called them “Crum Bumbs” which according to him, did not detract from their taste in the slightest!

Believe it or not, this is just one specific category of food that never did it for me. I like a bite of one, but when it comes to Cinnabon and the like, I could totally pass. The dough is so heavy and the frosting is just so sweet that I’ve never been a big fan. In the mall food court of yesteryear, give me a bagel dog or a funnel cake any day over a round mound of cinnamon swirl with the much too much sloppy topping. But the line at those kiosks far outpaces most other stands. All of these bun worshippers in one place makes ya wonder… what the heck is the attraction?

Maybe it’s the smell that reminds everyone of growing up? Maybe it’s the oozing cascade of frosting? Maybe it’s the sheer size of those whoppers that allows a family of four to share one and be stuffed? Regardless of the buns you worship, I hope the sight and smell of them brings sheer joy to your senses and magic to your lips. (Yep, let’s just leave your hips out of it this one time.)