Cinnamon

Cinnamon. The flavor of the season. Or at least my pregnancy. For those who have known me since I was little or have been reading my recent facebook posts, my obsession with cinnamon comes as no surprise. Although frankly it surprised me a bit! All those times early on when I was pondering, "What foods am I really going to crave?" I sort of forgot about my old-standby, my ultimate comfort food--cinnamon. I'm not sure what it is about cinnamon's taste (I hate cinnamon candy, so it can't be too spicy) or it's smell (like heaven!) or its color (so warm and inviting, like a blanket), but I love it.

My favorite form of cinnamon has always been cinnamon rolls. I have a serious attachment to this pastry because whenever I went to visit my grandparents when I was younger, my Grandma Marion would always make me cinnamon rolls. They weren't iced. I didn't even put butter on them. I would just eat them plain Jane, one right after another, until with my 8-year old pudgy face beamed with pride that I had consumed half (or more!) of the pan all by myself. And ever since then, I'm a sucker for cinnamon rolls. I'll take a heavily frosted cinnamon roll over a cookie, doughnut, or cake any day, although I often scrape off the frosting in order to get to the good stuff :-)

And so cinnamon it is, was, and always will be. My first real craving during the pregnancy was milk, but my second was--you guessed it--cinnamon rolls, the perfect accompaniment to the milk. This second, stronger craving was all brought on by the power of suggestion from one tiny Facebook status update. One update that sent Jake packing to Trader Joe's to get me some of their delicious "Ooey Gooey Cinnamon Rolls." This pan is nearly gone. It wasn't our first, and it surely won't be the last.

Even these cinnamon rolls are a bit sugary for me now, though. I want to get back to goodness, the cinnamon and bread that my Grandma Marion whipped together into the most scrumptious concoction. I tried cinnamon and sugar toast. It was okay, but lackluster. I don't think I had a strong enough hand with the cinnamon.

So tonight was the gold mine. As I'm standing in Giant Eagle in the bakery, looking at the donuts, and the cinnamon rolls, and the muffins, and not feeling MOVED by any of it yet secretly wanting it all, I made my way over to the commercial bread isle. And oh, how did I ever forget about the amazing invention of Pepperidge Farm's cinnamon bread? No icing, so good it doesn't even need butter, just the carbs and cinnamon melding into one glorious treat.

I ate 3 pieces on the car ride home alone. This could become a problem!

But please, I beg of you--if you know the solution, don't tell me. I love my cinnamon too much :-)