Cinnamon Roll Monkey Bread

Third week. Cohort started Wednesday. I drove with Hannah — she's been driving me everywhere for three weeks — and I taught the first class in the bay with my arm in the sling. Eight new students. The fifty-eight-year-old woman who waited forty years. A nineteen-year-old who reminded me of myself at nineteen. A retired veteran. A young woman who said she wanted to be a metalworker. A man who said his uncle had gone through the program in 2032 and had recommended it. The introductions went around. Each student said why they were there. I listened and took notes with my left hand. The notes are illegible.

Dwight handled the demonstrations. He worked the torch and showed the basic techniques. I sat on a stool and talked. The talking was the easier half of the class anyway — most of welding instruction is observation and feedback, not demonstration. The students were attentive. I was tired by the end of the two-hour class. Hannah drove me home.

Friday I rested. Hannah did the same. We watched a movie on the laptop. Hannah picked it. She always picks. I always agree to whatever she picks. Tonight's was an old western she'd been wanting to watch again. I fell asleep halfway through. She let me. She woke me at the end so I could see the credits. She's known me for thirty-five years. Thirty-five years of watching me fall asleep during the movies she picks.

Caleb Saturday. He sat with me on the porch. He said: I think I'm going to ask Miriam to live together. I said: when. He said: in six weeks. He said: I want you to be at full speed when I do. I said: that's sweet. I said: but you don't have to wait for me. He said: I want to. I said: do it when you're ready. He said: six weeks. I said: six weeks.

Friday was for resting, and Hannah made sure I actually did it — no demonstrations, no left-handed note-taking, just the couch and an old western and the kind of quiet that settles in after a hard week. I didn’t make this during the movie; I’d made it the night before, and we ate it warm while the opening credits rolled, pulling pieces off the loaf the way you do when you don’t want to make a real plate of anything. Monkey bread is the right food for that kind of evening — low effort, shared without ceremony, sweet enough to feel like a reward for getting through the week at all.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cans (16 oz each) refrigerated biscuit dough, cut into quarters
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 oz cream cheese, softened
1 cup powdered sugar
3–4 tablespoons milk

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 10-inch Bundt pan thoroughly with nonstick spray or butter, making sure to coat all the ridges.
Coat the dough pieces. In a large zip-lock bag or bowl, combine the granulated sugar and cinnamon. Add the quartered biscuit pieces in batches and toss to coat evenly on all sides.
Layer in the pan. Arrange the coated dough pieces evenly in the prepared Bundt pan, building up in layers as you go.
Make the butter sauce. In a small saucepan or microwave-safe bowl, combine the melted butter, brown sugar, and vanilla extract. Stir until the brown sugar is mostly dissolved, then pour the mixture evenly over all the dough pieces in the pan.
Bake. Bake for 30–35 minutes, until the top is deep golden brown and the center pieces are cooked through. Let the bread rest in the pan for 5 minutes.
Invert. Place a large plate or serving platter over the Bundt pan and carefully flip to release the monkey bread. Let any remaining caramel sauce drizzle down over the loaf.
Make the glaze. Beat the softened cream cheese with the powdered sugar and milk until smooth and pourable. Add milk one tablespoon at a time until you reach a drizzling consistency.
Glaze and serve. Drizzle the cream cheese glaze over the warm monkey bread. Serve immediately while still pull-apart soft.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cinnamon Roll Monkey Bread — Something Warm for the Movie We Half-Watched