In our home, it’s not Christmas without sticky buns. This year I briefly toyed with the idea of not making them– maybe I was a bit more tired, maybe I was feeling less than festive- but still I made them, and as they always do, they worked their magic.
Sticky Buns
I did not want to cook
or bake or clean away
the dirtied dishes
yet again.
Still, with a sigh
I measured, heated, cooled, combined,
set aside the bowl for the first rise.
Later, I rolled out the dough–
grown with the mysterious gift of yeast
to double its size–
then spread the melted butter
sprinkled clouds of cinnamon sugar.
Slowly my shoulders relaxed,
my jaw softened as I eased
into each step
following the journey of the recipe
forward and also backward
to my mother
to my grandmother.
How many times did they stand just so-
alone in a kitchen
maybe tired and distracted
creating the sticky buns
that sweetened each
holiday morning of my childhood?
Did they ever imagine that my thoughts
of them would be forever
cinnamon-brown-sugar-sweet
tightly-rolled and baked to golden perfection
the centerpiece of every Christmas morning
past, present
and future?
©Molly Hogan, draft
The holidays are steeped in memories. As I wrote in my post on Tuesday, they are wrapped in past and present. In my world, sticky buns are a perfect example of this.
This week’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Michelle Kogan. She’s sharing a wonderful assortment of elfchens. Be forewarned: I suspect that writing them might be as addictive as eating sticky buns! Just one more…
May the past infuse your present with sweetness and a sense of connection as we enter the new year.
Nix the comfort zone 
Beautiful. Food is such a strong tie to our families and loved ones.
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Yes! There are so many foods that make me feel connected to my mother and grandmother especially.
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This is beautiful. It reminds me so powerfully of “Those Winter Sundays” – https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46461/those-winter-sundays
“What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?”
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Thank you! What a lovely compliment. Thanks also for the link. It’s been a while since I’ve read this poem and I really enjoyed revisiting it.
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Such a bittersweet poem, full of reminiscent longing and deep understanding of how our ancestors pass on their love through food.
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Oh, my goodness…I can taste them in the words.
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I’ve eaten way too many of them! lol
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Molly, what a treasure. As I read, I thought of my own mother and grandmother, and then my daughter and grandson, in this quickly turning cycle. Those poetic questions you pose in the last two stanzas really get us thinking.
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As I wrote, I found myself thinking of both of my daughters who enjoy baking. Neither has yet made sticky buns, but I can certainly foresee them doing so. That thought makes me happy.
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Molly, what a gorgeous poem. I especially love the stanza about following the journey of the recipe backward. Cooking was not a big thing in my family (and I don’t like to cook), so this is a peek into another form of love. Happy New Year, Molly! Glad you made those delicious-looking rolls :>)
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Thanks, Laura. I personally much prefer baking to cooking :). Both my mother and grandmother were wonderful cooks and bakers, and I enjoy the connection I feel to them when knee deep in baking or jam making.
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So lovely and visceral. So much meaning in that sugar and dough…
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Thanks, Liz! Happy New Year!
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What a perfect thing for Christmas. The cinnamon sugar — yum!
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It’s such an integral part of our Christmas that I just can’t imagine the day without it!
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Beautiful, Molly, and with the memories. Just one more. . . And I love “following the journey of the recipe”. Wishing you a new year of energy and hope for every joy you see! Your discoveries certainly bring me joy!
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Thanks, Linda! I wish you the best of new years as well! Your posts are always a bright spot in my days!
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I love the building and changing layers in your poem–layers of women-family, it’s like a sticky bun itself, delicious, thanks Molly and Happy New Year!
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I love the idea that the post is layered like the sticky bun, Michelle. Thanks for sharing that!
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Suitably reflective, introspective words, Molly. Sticky buns and nostalgic memories have surely delivered.
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Thanks, Alan. I enjoyed the memories and way too many of the sticky buns 🙂
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Such comfort in the making of the food (and of course eating it!). I feel similarly when ironing and when threading a sewing machine – awash in memories of my mom and my nana. Thank you for this Molly. Happy New Year!
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I also baked a couple of cookie recipes that both my mother and grandmother baked. This was a nostalgic Christmas for sure! My mother and grandmother were both talented seamstresses and I wish I’d asked them to teach me that skill. I’m okay missing out on the ironing 😉
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Love this, Molly! The King Arthur baking cookbook’s cranberry bread is becoming a Christmas-morning tradition for us. It is wonderful that you have your mother and grandmother’s recipe for sticky buns; I can just smell them!
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Oooh! Cranberry bread sounds like a wonderful addition to Christmas brunch. I love using recipes with a history. I write all over mine and am especially partial to the ones that are splattered and tattered.
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Molly, those sticky buns look so yummy! Food brings back lots of memories for me. I love baking and the smells that fill the house. Your poem made me feel like I was right there with you! Lovely! Happy New Year!
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Warm winter spices are the best for scenting the air! Who can resist cinnamon, cloves, ginger, nutmeg? Not I, that’s for sure!
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The mysterious gift of yeast, indeed! Thank you for the sweet poem and post! Happy new year!
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I have a very tenuous relationship with yeast, but am fascinated by it!
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Our Christmas cinnamon rolls have no past (it’s a tradition I started) and I was thinking no future (since we don’t have kids), but one of my grown-up former students reached out and asked me to teach her how to make them. You can imagine how happy that makes my heart!
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How cool is that!? I’m guessing you must have shared the wealth with your students and now you’re reaping the benefit 🙂 Happy heart indeed!
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Sticky Buns…They’re called sticky for a reason! This poem manages to be both so in the moment–of standing, doing the messy work–and eternal tightly rolling and unrolling past and future. So lovely, Molly. Happy New Year to you and yours!
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Thanks, Heidi! Hope your year is off to a grand start!
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I love the ending of your poem! These look delicious. I know that baking can feel overwhelming but then you start and there you are, with gooey sticky buns and everyone is grateful. Happy New Year!
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“but then you start and there you are”–yes! I think I was just a bit worn out with the prior weekend’s 14 different cookies baking extravaganza. The rewards of making sticky buns are definitely multi-faceted.
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