Some recipes I’m posting during this time are going to be super pared-down and simple, and others are…well…not. What can I say? Bakers gonna bake.
These Cream Biscuit Pecan Sticky Buns came to be because I went into this time of quarantine with a ton of heavy cream in my fridge. It’s usually reserved for making buttercream for the various layer cakes I make every month, but there are no cakes on my calendar for…who knows how long.
So, what to do with all that cream? Whip it, make ice cream, make biscuits, and—oh yeah—combine it with the giant bag of pecans in my pantry and roll it all into super soft, tender sticky buns. Yesssss.
This is not the first time I’ve used biscuit dough to make sweet rolls on here, but it is certainly the prettiest (forgive those photos—I was a baby blogger). Assembly is super simple and, aside from the lack of rise, pretty similar to regular sweet rolls. Make a dough, make a filling, roll it all up, slice, arrange, bake over a lake of sticky pecan stuff, invert, eat. Boom, done.

I’ve designed this recipe to be for just nine rolls. I figure most of us don’t need more than that sitting around to taunt us from the kitchen counter. If nine still seems like too many, know that these keep remarkably well in the fridge for a few days and can be reheated on demand.
Now for the social distancing swaps so you don’t have to go to the store.
-Have nuts that aren’t pecans? Use ‘em.
-Don’t like nuts? Leave ‘em out entirely. Nothing terrible will happen.
-Don’t have honey for the topping? Use maple syrup, agave, light corn syrup, or golden syrup.
-Use any milk you like for the topping. I went with almond. In a pinch, you can swap the milk for 2 tablespoons of cream and 3 of water.
-Don’t have cream at all? You can use another biscuit dough. I’d be careful about making sure the dough stays cold and probably give the sliced & arranged rolls a good chill before baking.
-Feel like making traditional yeasted sticky buns? Click here. (You can leave out the bananas.)
Even with all those swaps, these buns may not quite qualify as quarantine-friendly for some, but they do for me. In an effort to stay home, I’m baking with things that are already in my pantry and fridge, as we all should be. To see more social distancing bakes, click here. And if you’re more inclined to cook than bake right now, head over to my Instagram. I’m posting easy dinner recipes over there a few times a week.
For now though, have a great weekend, and for the love of yourself and everyone else, stay home and make yourself a special breakfast. You’ve earned it! We all have.
Cream Biscuit Pecan Sticky Buns
makes 9 medium-large buns
Topping:
1 1/2 cups chopped pecans, divided
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/2 cup light or dark brown sugar, packed
1/3 cup milk of choice
2 tablespoons honey
pinch of Kosher or sea salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Filling:
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
1/2 cup light or dark brown sugar, packed
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
pinch of Kosher or sea salt
Biscuits:
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons light or dark brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 pint (2 cups) heavy cream, cold
Preheat oven to 400F. Grease an 8- or 9-inch square pan with butter. Set aside.
Make the topping. Place pecans on a dry baking sheet. Toast for 5-7 minutes, or until fragrant. Let cool for a few minutes. Chop finely. Set aside 1/2 cup pecans for the filling.
Combine butter, brown sugar, milk, honey, and salt in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Stir constantly while mixture boils for 3 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla. Pour mixture into prepared pan—it will seem thin. Tilt pan slightly to coat evenly. Scatter 1 cup chopped pecans evenly over the topping. Refrigerate full pan while you prepare the rolls.
Make the filling. In a small mixing bowl, use a fork to whisk together butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt, until it’s completely combined. Set aside.
Make the biscuit dough. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flour, brown sugar, salt, and baking powder. Use a silicone spatula or wooden spoon to fold in heavy cream, making sure to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl. Dough will be shaggy.
On a floured surface, roll half the dough into a 10×14-inch rectangle so that the edge closest to your body is 14 inches. Drop spoonfuls of filling over dough and use an offset knife (or butter knife) to spread it out, leaving a 1/2-inch border at the edge. Scatter on reserved pecans. Starting at the long edge furthest away from your body, tightly roll the dough toward you until you have one large cylinder. Slice into 9 pieces, and place close together in the prepared pan. Bake rolls for 25-30 minutes, until light golden and fully cooked.
Let cooked rolls rest in the pan on a rack for 3 minutes. Run a small, thin knife around the edge of the pan. Place a large serving plate (or cutting board) upside down on top of the pan. Wearing oven mitts, tightly grab the plate and the pan and flip them over, inverting the rolls onto the plate. Remove pan. Nudge any leftover topping onto the rolls and smooth to distribute evenly. Serve warm. If rolls do not release, return pan to the oven for a minute to warm the topping before trying to invert again.
Cream Biscuit Pecan Sticky Buns are best served the day they are made, but may be kept covered in the refrigerator for up to three days.


Today is alllll about meyer lemons, y’all! As far as I’m concerned, they’re the queen of winter citrus. If you’ve never tried them, they’re what happens when you cross a mandarin orange with a lemon. This goes without saying, but they’re very, very good in
These tall, fluffy rolls make excellent use of meyer lemon juice and zest. They’re bright and tangy and just a little bit sticky, but in the best sort of way.

These rolls get three doses of meyer lemon flavor. The first is in the filling, which is simply a paste made of meyer lemon zest, sugar, salt and melted butter. It’s spread onto the dough before it’s rolled up, sliced, risen and baked.
Next up: a glaze! I got the idea for painting on a glaze from last year’s 
It’s all rounded out with a layer of meyer lemon icing. Ohhhh, the icing. It’s the crowning glory of this whole operation! To make it, just whisk a couple tablespoons of meyer lemon juice and a pinch of salt into a cup of confectioners sugar, and then spoon/pour/drizzle/spread it all over the tops of the rolls so that they’re absolutely impossible to resist.
And then eat the dang rolls and bask in the sunshiny goodness that is the union of perfect winter citrus and fluffy pastry. Bask, I tell you.



There’s little rhyme or reason as to what I choose to blog—it’s usually just whatever I’ve felt like making lately. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been on a bit of a breakfast kick. I’m not exactly sure how many fall breakfast options I think you need, but it’s at least three:
I mean, look at these sticky, swirly things! You need them. I need them. Preferably on Saturday morning alongside my daily French press.
They’re flaky and fluffy, filled with a fragrant orange-cardamom sugar, and twisted to perfection. The crowning glory is a brush of orange-cardamom glaze as soon as the buns come out of the oven, which gives them an extra layer of flavor and their gleaming appearance.
Oh, and they take two hours start-to-finish—a rarity in the from-scratch breakfast bun realm. And their twists? Much easier than they look. My motor skills are seriously lacking (I am comically bad with scissors), so if I can shape them, anyone can.



Just twist a strip of dough and tie it in a knot. Boom, done.
Even if you do it “wrong” (which is near-impossible), I promise they will still turn out beautifully. And even if they don’t (which is also near-impossible—can you see that I did this with one hand?), call ‘em rustic. That’s what I do. If anyone complains, eat theirs. That’s also what I do.
What?! You don’t need that negativity at breakfast.



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.



I have put a lot of
Now, I know there are a gazillion cinnamon roll recipes out there. You probably have one you love. Why take a chance and switch it up? What makes these cinnamon rolls special?
Well, I like to think *all* cinnamon rolls are special. I have never been disappointed to be offered a cinnamon roll in all my 33.5 years. Not once. Not even by the one I ate at a Roy Rogers in rural Connecticut at 8am that one time eleven years ago.
But, um, back to these cinnamon rolls, which are infinitely better than anything you could possibly find at a fast food restaurant in New England. They’re made with the same dough I use for my
This dough works best with an overnight chill in the fridge. Immediately after mixing, it’s very soft and sticky—very frustrating to roll. After a chill however, the butter has set up enough that the dough rolls without sticking, making it ideal for slathering with brown sugar-cinnamon filling. This overnight method is also the ideal way to get scratch-made cinnamon rolls on the breakfast table without having to get up and start baking when it’s still dark outside. Sleep > baking.
Once the dough has been filled, roll it into a cylinder and slice it into pieces.
Let them rise and bake them until they’re brown.
And then slather them with a thin coat of cream cheese frosting. Or double the recipe for a thick coat. Whatever floats your cinnamon roll boat. <—hey, that rhymes.
Anyway, you don’t need me to talk you into wanting fresh cinnamon rolls (unless you hate them like 


