The perfect storm...
The perfect Christmas Day...
And to end it all...
All growing up, trips down to Fillmore to visit Grandma and Grandpa were always a treat. But some of the best memories, were sneaking down into Grandma's freezer to partake of her frozen baked goods. Grandma was known particularly for her rolls and was called upon frequently to make them for any Fillmore social gathering. As I grew older, I tried and tried to get my rolls to turn out like Grandma's, but to no avail. The Thanksgiving after my Grandma passed away, I found myself really missing her and wanted more than anything for my Grandma to be with me on that thankful day. I knew the only way to have that be granted was if I could master her rolls. "Grandma..... you have to help me with these rolls. What do I need to do?" That night, I couldn't sleep. Grandma tutored me all night. " Make sure that you don't put too much flour in.........fold them over like this........the dough should be sticky but not too sticky......" In the morning I donned my apron and set to work, following the instructions closely that I learned the night before. With anticipation, I rolled them out, baked them and loaded them up in a basket to take over to my parents, where we were having the grand feast. As I walked in the door, and the rolls were nibbled on. I heard the joyful response...."These are just like Grandma's Rolls." 
