Tradition Passed and Passed

raised and ready to bake

HOMEMADE rolls have always been the staple for all Lind holidays/special occasions. Mom always made them, while we drooled, eagerly awaiting the soft goodness.  Those rolls are one of the most prominent memories I have...and my favorite too.  Aside from those delicious clouds of (insert your own word here), hard-crust European bread is one of the only breads I enjoy.  This year, the roll-torch was passed to me.  I was terrified by such an overwhelming task of living up the expectations of perfection in EVERY SINGLE BATCH.  I've made them for roommates and friends, but never dared for my family - too much pressure to follow the expertise of mom and grandma.  BUT, they requested and trusted me anyway.  I guess they're trying to observe my transformation to being a dream-making mom.  I know the recipe by heart, but with all the stress of having two experts' eyes watching every knead, I still needed the scarp of ancient paper.  The rolls turned out "exactly like mom's" (as everyone gleefully exclaimed through crumb-encrusted lips).  Needless to say, they were scarfed down at dinner...and sneaked off before.  Then late that night, when Baby Brother came back from spending the day in Salt Lake, he and cousin J polished off the last 9 without anyone knowing.  When the rest of us awoke, we were devastated to discover we'd have to endure a roll-less breakfast (we were ALL counting on having at least one in the morning).  Grandpa demanded more so I spent the afternoon baking, and literally hiding them throughout the kitchen/cupboards in separate batches, should one be discovered...just like mom and grandma have done for years.