I love to bake. I like to sort of, kind of attempt to cook. I like to mix beverages. So I thought, “Why not throw in an old fashion recipe once in awhile?” First up? Cinnamon rolls. And no, I did not go to the local bakery to purchase. And I did not get a pre-mix of dry ingredients. I almost always (98% of the time) bake from scratch. (I’m not a math genius. The 98% was pretty arbitrary. But my point is, it’s incredibly rare for me not to mix and do it all myself.) What’s more nostalgic than whipping up a recipe with your own ingredients and the muscle of your own hand? And beyond that, it solicits childhood memories of the aromas wafting through the house while my Mom would be preparing something you knew was going to be incredible. Something she made with her own hands. Grandparents and aunts coaxing ingredients into something unforgettable at family dinners. Again, their own, not store bought. And anyone who knows my Mom, knows cinnamon rolls are one of those dishes for which she is known. So it seemed like a good place to start. When I bake, I play music. And I dance. And I drink. I’m not saying you have to do these things, but I can’t guarantee your recipe and final product will turn out quite right otherwise.