Cinnamon Roll Chapter

I baked cinnamon rolls for the first time. The dough wasn't stretched enough, there were few indentations, and they weren't rolled properly... it was a disaster. But since it's a first-time commemorative event, I'll let it slide. Haha.

I don't remember when or where I ate them, but I clearly remember that the cinnamon rolls were delicious.

When it comes to cinnamon rolls, the movie 'Kamome Diner' is famous, and since I remember thinking 'Oh!' when I watched that movie, my memory of cinnamon rolls might be from quite a long time ago.

I admired mothers who baked cakes, cookies, and bread, but making things that required precise measurements felt like a very high hurdle for me.

Who would eat them if I made them?

My family doesn't necessarily like what I like or what I want to make.

There's no way it would go well from the start...

Spending money on ingredients for something that might not be delicious and that no one would be happy about...

I had always thought that way.

But I started to think that maybe that wasn't quite right.

I don't remember exactly what triggered it, but I think it's an answer that emerged from many things overlapping and intertwining in a complex way.

I realized, 'You won't know unless you try!'

A long time ago, when I was talking with a few friends about how hard it is to decide on a dinner menu, one friend answered nonchalantly, 'I just make what I want to eat at that time.' The room got a little noisy with questions like, 'What? Don't your family members have likes and dislikes?' or 'Don't they complain?' At that time, I was one of the people making noise.

'What? I'm the one cooking. If they don't like it, I tell them to make it themselves.'

She said it so casually and naturally that she seemed like someone from another world back then. I didn't have the courage back then to make something that someone in my family might not eat.

When I think about it carefully, my family didn't eat those things simply because I didn't make them, and I had just assumed they were picky eaters. Even if that weren't the case, isn't it strange to focus only on the family's preferences... I'm part of the family too!

A little while ago, I saw a cinnamon roll at a nearby shop and bought just one.

For lunch, for a snack—lately, I've finally started buying just one thing for myself.

I realize something in the midst of this casual shopping.

Things that only I eat, things that only I like... I've kept a lid on so many of those things until now.

Without realizing it, I've ingrained in myself that things just for me are a waste.

If I fail, I can just take responsibility and eat it myself. Bread can be frozen, right? The cost of ingredients for a few batches is about the same as buying it a few times, right?

I count up a lot of benefits to motivate myself.

With just a quick search, I come across many recipes online.

Comparing them to find common points, adopting the one that's written in more detail... if I just do that, I'll surely panic while I'm making it. That's right, I'll write it all down!

As I write it out, the steps start to sink in a little. For a first-time experience, I want to eliminate avoidable failures in advance.

The first cinnamon roll I just finished baking has managed to keep the texture of bread, but it's a bit powdery, a bit too big... not sweet enough... the areas for improvement are all too obvious.

I have enough bread flour for four more batches. I'll bake them again. Until they taste just the way I like.

I have time. It's just a matter of where to fit that time into my daily life. I don't have any young children who need me to help them live.

Now that my children are gone, I think I'll open the lid on 'things I like' and start taking them out little by little.

The first thing I thought I would try this year. The opening of the cinnamon roll chapter.

Maybe what I really want to bake is an apple pie.