I spent ages pouring through my recipe books and finally decided on these little gems.
They look divine and -wonder of wonders- I had all the ingredients in my cupboard.
I made the dough and it was smooth and silky, it rose beautifully.
I punched it down and kneaded it, then rolled it out to fill with soft butter, cinnamon, sugar and plump raisins, then rolled it up jelly roll fashion.
The base of the baking tray was spread with more butter, cinnamon and sugar and sprinkled with chopped pecans. Oh My!
The dough was sliced up and set in tray to rise again and the smell throughout the kitchen was beautiful. Who knew I was such a dynamic whiz in the kitchen ?
It was around this time that I started to fantasize about a possible stint on MasterChef. Oh the praise, the quiet nod of approval from Gary, George would roll his eyes in pleasure. How the public would adore this unassuming mum who could produce heaven on a plate without so much as breaking a sweat.
It was time to pop these babies in the oven and wait for the magic...
Twenty five minutes later it was time for the great unveiling and I wished Matt Preston was there to 'lift the cloche' . (I don't have one but I can pretend)
What The ??????
Where the heck is my gooey caramel?
Where is my melt-in-your-mouth buttery goodness?
I am choosing to not share the original recipe photo with the kids. I'll tell them this is exactly how they are supposed to look, slather on the butter and honey and make myself a nice hot cup of tea.
This is why I am not a food blogger.
Please tell me I'm not the only one who does this sort of thing .....
Linking up with Jess..