The church needs a new furnace. Pastor Eriksson announced it on Sunday — the heating system, original to the building (1922), has finally given up. The cost: twelve thousand dollars. The congregation: fifty-seven members. The math: challenging.
I volunteered for the fundraising committee. Not because I'm a committee person — I'm not, I'm a kitchen person — but because the church needs help and helping is what I do when the kitchen has done all it can.
The plan (my plan, presented to the committee on Wednesday): a bake sale at the Duluth farmers' market. My cinnamon rolls. My limpa bread. My pepparkakor. My cardamom cake. Sold to the public, at prices that reflect the quality, which is considerable.
The committee agreed. The bake sale is scheduled for November. I'll need to bake two hundred cinnamon rolls, which is a lot but which is also the number Mamma would bake, and if Mamma can do it at ninety, I can do it at fifty-eight.
I called Mamma. "I'm baking two hundred cinnamon rolls for the church." She said, "Two hundred?" I said, "For the furnace fund." She said, "I'll make one hundred. You make one hundred. Together: two hundred." The partnership. The collaboration. Mamma and me, baking for the church, the way we've been baking for the church since I was old enough to hold a rolling pin.
I said, "Mamma, you don't have to." She said, "Don't insult me, Linda. I've been baking for this church since 1962. A furnace isn't going to stop me." A furnace isn't going to stop Ingrid Johansson. Nothing stops Ingrid Johansson. Ninety years old and she's baking one hundred cinnamon rolls because the church needs a furnace and the church is her church and the cinnamon rolls are her cinnamon rolls and the stopping is not an option.
I made a dinner of gratitude: Mamma's meatballs. Because when your ninety-year-old mother volunteers to bake one hundred cinnamon rolls for a church furnace, you make her meatballs. The real recipe. The ginger. The cream gravy. Eaten at the table, two places, one plate, with the particular satisfaction of a woman whose mother is unstoppable.
The furnace fund. The bake sale. The cinnamon rolls. Mamma and me.
The church stands because the women bake. It's always been this way. It always will be.
Mamma and I will handle the cinnamon rolls come November — one hundred each, not a single one fewer — but in the days after she said “don’t insult me, Linda,” I needed to bake something right then, something warm and spiced that filled the kitchen the way a furnace fills a church. These Cinnamon Sweet Potato Muffins are what came out of the oven that afternoon: humble enough for a Wednesday, good enough to sell, and scented with exactly the kind of cinnamon that makes a cold building feel like home. They’re already on the November table alongside the rolls — because when Ingrid Johansson is your baking partner, you bring everything you have.
Cinnamon Sweet Potato Muffins
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 22 min | Total Time: 37 min | Servings: 12 muffins
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 1/2 tsp baking soda
- 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
- 1/4 tsp salt
- 1 cup mashed cooked sweet potato (about 1 medium sweet potato)
- 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
- 1/3 cup vegetable oil
- 2 large eggs
- 1/3 cup whole milk
- 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Heat your oven to 375°F. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners or grease each cup well with butter or nonstick spray.
- Whisk the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, and salt until evenly combined.
- Mix the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk the mashed sweet potato, brown sugar, oil, eggs, milk, and vanilla together until smooth and no lumps of potato remain.
- Combine. Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and fold together with a spatula just until the batter comes together — a few small streaks of flour are fine. Do not overmix or the muffins will be tough.
- Fill the tin. Divide the batter evenly among the 12 muffin cups, filling each about 3/4 full. If you like, dust the tops lightly with a pinch of cinnamon and sugar before baking.
- Bake. Bake 20–22 minutes, until the tops are set and a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean.
- Cool. Let the muffins rest in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. They are best warm but hold well at room temperature for up to 2 days, or freeze beautifully for bake-sale prep.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 182 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 148mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 286 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.