The end of summer always seems to be a time when I lose my recipe muse, albeit briefly. It’s disconcerting and annoying, but temporary, and understandable, I think.
I’m getting tired of berries. I’ve done everything I’m going to do with stone fruit. I’m eating figs on toast, but can’t seem to rustle up any fresh ideas for them. My head is filled with recipes for pumpkin, apples and pears, but I won’t be posting any of them until after September 20th (wrote ‘em all down—Thanksgiving is gonna be goooood this year, y’all).
Times like this are why I have my ever-growing list of blog inspiration. I wrote down “pineapple kolaches maybe?” after I made pineapple-centric sweet rolls and Rosh Hashanah challah last year, knowing I would be glad to see those words weeks, months or years later.
And I am, thank goodness. I think we can all agree that the unofficial last week of summer deserves some quality baked goods.
Make no mistake: these Pineapple Kolaches are quality.
This take on the Czech pastry favorite is made with a pineapple juice-spiked version of my favorite kolache dough and a tart, gingery pineapple filling. YUM.


Kolaches are surprisingly simple to make—I think they’re less intensive than your average cinnamon rolls. The dough and filling are both made the night before baking. The next day, the kolaches are assembled, proofed, sprinkled with posypka (crumble) and baked until ever-so-slightly golden. It sounds like a lot, but the total “active” work time is probably 60-75 minutes and the payoff is 🍍🍍🍍🙌💗🎉‼️
There’s little that beats a soft, fresh from the oven, butter-brushed pastry with jammy pineapple filling.
I won’t be diving into any pools this holiday weekend, but I really want to dive into that well of filling. Don’t you?!
Pineapple Kolaches
makes about 18 pastries
Pineapple Filling:
1 20 ounce can crushed pineapple in juice
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
pinch of Kosher or sea salt
juice of 1/2 lime
Dough:
1/2 cup (1 stick) + 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1/2 cup unsweetened pineapple juice (reserved from filling)
2/3 cup full-fat sour cream
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 packet (2 1/4 teaspoons) active dry yeast
3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon lime zest (from 1 medium lime)
1 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt
2 large eggs, room temperature
Posypka (Crumble):
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
pinch of ground cinnamon
pinch of ground ginger
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted
The night before you want to eat kolaches, make the pineapple filling. Set a colander over a bowl and pour in crushed pineapple. Press out 1/2 cup of juice and set that aside for the dough.
Combine remaining crushed pineapple in juice, sugar, cornstarch, ground ginger, salt and lime juice in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes, or until juices are clear and mixture thickens slightly. Cool for a few minutes. Transfer to an airtight container and refrigerate overnight.
Make the dough. Cut 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter into 8 pieces.Combine butter, whole milk, and sour cream in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Melt together, stirring occasionally, until mixture is warm to the touch (about 115F). Pour into a large mixing bowl and stir in sugar. Sprinkle yeast over the top and allow to prove for 5 minutes. Mixture will have just a few small bubbles. If bubbles do not form, your yeast is dead. Discard mixture and start the dough from the beginning with fresh yeast.
Add 1 cup of the flour, the lime zest, and salt to the wet ingredients. Fold together. Fold in beaten eggs, followed by 2 1/4 more cups of flour. Dough will be very soft and a bit sticky.
Turn dough onto a floured surface and knead 5 minutes before forming into a ball. Dough will be very soft and sticky—use a bench scraper for easiest kneading. Grease a mixing bowl with oil. Place dough ball in the bowl, being sure to grease it on all sides. Press plastic wrap to the surface of the dough. Refrigerate overnight, about 8-12 hours.
In the morning, line two rimmed baking sheets with parchment. Remove dough from refrigerator and discard plastic wrap. Into two pieces. On a lightly floured surface, roll dough until it’s 1/2-inch thick. Use a 2 1/2-inch round cutter to cut kolaches, rerolling as necessary. Place 3 inches apart on prepared pans.
Melt 2 tablespoons of butter. Brush on the tops of cut kolache dough. Flour the back of a tablespoon and press it into the center of one kolache to make a well. Immediately fill with a heaping 1/2 tablespoon (1 1/2 teaspoons) of pineapple filling. Flour the tablespoon again and repeat process with all remaining kolaches on the baking pan. Repeat process with remaining baking sheet.
Loosely cover with plastic wrap (or greased foil) and allow to rise in a warm, draft-free place for 30 minutes, or until puffy.
Make the posypka (crumble). Combine all ingredients in a small bowl. Stir with a fork until crumbly.
Position oven racks near the center. Preheat the oven to 350F.
Remove plastic wrap from one baking sheet of dough. Top each kolache with a big pinch of posypka. Bake kolaches uncovered for 18-20 minutes, rotating pans front to back at the 10 minute mark. They will be barely-golden when they are done. Brush baked kolaches with 1 tablespoon melted butter.
Let kolaches cool slightly on the pans. Serve warm.
Kolaches are best the day they are made, but may be refrigerated for a couple of days. Warm before serving.


If you’re looking for an easy, elegant late-summer dessert, you’ve come to the right corner of the internet. This Peach Tart, y’all. I can’t get enough.
It’s as beautiful as it is delicious, and much easier than
Where most 



Fresh peaches are sliced thin and tossed with lemon juice before being arranged over pastry, then sprinkled with a tiny amount of sugar and dotted with butter before baking.
The result is this golden and gorgeous fruit-forward Peach Tart. There’s nothing to mask the flavor of the peaches because this time of year, when they’re at their peak, there’s no need.


If I could change one thing about myself, I think I’d like to be a morning person. I really like mornings (especially the lazy variety), but I have such difficulty getting myself out of bed that I rarely enjoy them. It’s a whole horrible, eight-alarm ordeal on weekdays and I almost always sleep past 11 on the weekends, so I’m either a bleary-eyed mess or out like a light for the start of most days. But, on extremely rare occasions, I wake up early of my own volition—usually with the aid of jackhammers outside my window or the sun shining in my eyes—and I get to enjoy the morning, starting with making myself a nice breakfast.
Sometimes mixing flour, sugar, and butter is an act of self-care.
For something so rustic and beautiful, Nutella Morning Buns are surprisingly simple to make and come together in a pretty reasonable amount of time. It takes me about two hours to make a batch from the time I decide that a soft, warm bun full of chocolate-hazelnut spread might be nice to the time I dust them with confectioner’s sugar and dig in.
The dough is very straightforward. It’s got all the usual suspects: flour, a little sugar, butter, milk, and an egg. It requires yeast, of course, but I use the instant stuff here, which simplifies the already simple process, making these buns incredibly approachable.
If there’s anything that’s intimidating about making Nutella Morning Buns, it’s probably shaping. Never fear though—it’s really simple and satisfying. Once your dough has risen for 40 minutes, punch it down and roll it into a large rectangle. Spread it with a thin layer of Nutella and then fold it like a letter, so that you have alternating layers of dough and filling. Use a sharp chef’s knife to trim off the ends and slice the rest into a dozen 8×1” strips.


Working with one strip at a time, twist it up. Then cross the two ends over each other and tuck them into the hole that forms in the center. BOOM! Dough shaped!
Repeat with the rest of your strips and then let them rise a little longer. If some ends come untucked, just nudge ‘em back with your fingers before baking. Or don’t. These are the sort of buns that can take all sorts of manipulation and still look gorgeous when all is said and done. And even if they don’t, a swipe of melted butter and a dusting of confectioner’s sugar can cure all manner of ugly pastry.
But is there such a thing as ugly pastry when Nutella is involved? I don’t think so. Or if there is, nobody who tried one of these buns during testing found the time to tell me. Oh, and all the test batches were gone (GONE!) within 45 minutes of coming out of the oven, so I’ll just let that speak for itself.
I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to have anything but a beautiful morning when these are around.



Let me pinpoint for you the moment I knew I wasn’t cut out for office jobs.






But it all goes back to that impromptu stop at Blue Bonnet Bakery. That was the catalyst for the chain of events that lead me to where I am right now. It just took another decade or so and a lot of professional misadventures to manifest itself into E2 Bakes and being that person who always has cookies. #crazycookielady




Palmiers (you might know them as “Elephant Ears”) are a simple pastry made by rolling a thin layer of filling into a sheet of flaky pastry dough. If you’re anything like me, you spent way too much of the early 2000s watching Ina Garten make them on the Food Network.




The possibilities for filling are nearly endless. Since the pastry doesn’t contain any sugar on its own, it works well with both sweet and savory fillings. Basically, if it can be spread or scattered, it can almost certainly be rolled into a palmier. I mean, if you play your cards right, you can start and end your meal with these elegant little pastries.

If you’re looking for a way to spice up your Turkey Day hors d’oeuvres spread, look no further than my Spinach Artichoke Palmiers. They’re filled with a slightly deconstructed version of my mom’s
As far as dessert goes, I love the idea of serving a plate of Pumpkin Palmiers alongside a pot of coffee. And
What?! It’s Thanksgiving. It’s a two-dessert day. Three, if you count the
Pumpkin Palmiers are filled with a very pared down version of
Roll up the dough and give it a chill.
Slice up the palmiers and give them a quick brush with milk and a sprinkling of coarse sugar.
If you’re making the Spinach Artichoke version, swap the sugar for parmesan–toasty cheese, y’all 🙌🏻🙌🏻
No matter which kind of palmiers you’re making, the baking process is the same. Let them go for ten minutes at 400F. Flip them over, brush them with more milk and sprinkle on more coarse sugar (or cheese). Let them bake for ten more minutes and then, well…
This is the part where you pretend you know things about French pastry.




