Cinnamon rolls vex me. Most things I can cook to my satisfaction after a couple of tries, but Cinnamon rolls I have tried over and over and they are never exactly what I want them to be. They are usually edible and get decent reviews, but they are never the specific roll I am craving. There is a little cafe along a highway in Oregon. Twice I have stopped there as a greyhound traveller and had breakfast. Both times I ordered the same thing, a cinnamon roll, orange juice, and black coffee. Both times it was heavenly. On my first solo trip I was 14 on my second I was 16. Sadly, I was too young then to think it important to remember the name of the cafe. Now I wonder if I was too young to be making greyhound bus trips alone, but at the time it seemed like a completely normal thing to be doing.
I remember at one point, after the cafe I think, a boy around my age boarded the bus. I was on the last stage of my journey, he was at the start of his, but we were both going to Salem. It was nice to pass the time talking with somebody my own age. My memory is full of people of varying ages and backgrounds that met over the course of my trip. Many of them are sharp, clear memories. This boy though is bland in my memory. In the memory he is blond, but if I picture him with black hair that fits too. His face is just a blurred placeholder. Who knows what we talked about. It was pleasant though, I remember enjoying the time we spent together. More clear is the lady sitting behind us. She leaned over the seat and asked us a few questions about where we were heading. She had dark brown hair. It hung to her shoulders in a straight bob. Her eyebrows were pinched together as she tried to figure out how far the two of us were travelling without and adult. We soon cleared up the misunderstanding that we were on the trip together. When she realized that we were both children travelling on our own her eyebrows pinched tighter. She sat back down in her seat. We giggled as we eavesdropped on her telling her companion about us. Here the memory fades again was the companion male or female? I don't remember.
Back to the cinnamon rolls. On Saturday night I made a batch to take over to Miss Universe's house on Sunday. My plan was to try a recipe off of the Internet, but when I asked Lane to let me have the computer for just a second he agreed, but asked what for. When I told him his eyes lit up. "I know where one is." He ran into the kitchen and pulled the little recipe book he had made for me in school off of the shelf. On the first page was a recipe for cinnamon rolls. There were a few copying errors that made me a little nervous,but how could I disappoint him by not using it? After the dough was rising I realized what was missing. The recipe didn't call for salt. I tried to knead some in and am not sure if that helped at all. The finished rolls were good, but the missing salt was noticeable.