i made monkey bread!

Now that’s something I haven’t made in, oh, since we lived in our first APARTMENT in Ohio…  Guess I’m not a big fan, huh?  I think it’s because my mom’s monkey bread always came out a little burned and the pieces (except for those few cherished center ones) came out really hard and crunchy.  (Andrew said the same thing, so it must be normal.)

Anyway, last week Andrew asked–no, begged–for monkey bread and I said I’d see what I could do.

While I love to make bread, I don’t normally get up so early that I would have dough already risen and ready to go into the oven before he even leaves for work, at least not these days.  So, I cheated and bought the frozen bread dough at Tops.  (Apparently you can use canned biscuits for an even quicker version.)

Forgive the picture.  Andrew snapped it quickly to send to his sisters (what a nice brother, bragging to them that he got monkey bread and they didn’t…) and I hadn’t anticipated blogging about our breakfast. Not sure why the dough looks yellow…  Reason number 506 that I can’t WAIT for our new house: LOADS of natural light!

Anyway, I hadn’t a clue how long it would take to bake or in what proportions I would mix the cinnamon and sugar, so I Googled.  I found Pioneer Woman’s recipe and it looked slightly different than what I’d made the last time, so I thought I’d give it a whirl.  I’m glad I did–Andrew said it was the best he’d ever had.  Must be the butter and brown sugar mixture you cook and then pour over the top.  No, people, this is not health food.  Not one bit.

And before I leave you, I simply must tell you the story of how Andrew made monkey bread that time long ago in our apartment (well before blogging, but oh, that would have made a great post!)…

Here’s the scene:  I come down the stairs to the kitchen to find him standing in front of the stove (one of those with the four coil burners on the top), on one side of the stove top was a bowl of melted butter and the dough pieces, and on the OTHER SIDE of the stove top was the bowl of cinnamon sugar.  I watched him take a piece of dough, dunk it in the melted butter (the way I assumed monkey bread was made until I read PW’s post) and DRIP DRIP DRIPped across the stove to the cinnamon and sugar bowl, and then DRIP DRIP DRIP[ed back across the stove top to the Bundt pan.  I still remember the horrified gasp I let out when I saw the mess he was making.

It’s funny now, but I still wonder how someone with THREE degrees (two of them in Engineering!), does the things he does and still makes it through the day.  Guess we’re all good at different things, huh?  Now that I type that, I think that’s what 6.5 years of marriage has taught me; I love him, despite his “imperfections,” just like he loves me, despite mine.  And oh, I have some imperfections!  (Mine just don’t include making messes…)

I love you, honey, and I was so happy to make you that special breakfast today 🙂