Father's Day.
I made Dad the full spread. Went to the Cape Cod on Sunday morning — early, before he was up — and cooked breakfast. Babcia's potato pancakes with sour cream and applesauce. Kielbasa from Usinger's, sliced and pan-fried until the edges crisped. Scrambled eggs with chives from Mom's little herb garden by the back door. Fresh coffee, strong, the way Dad likes it — strong enough to dissolve a spoon.
Dad came downstairs in his robe, saw the table, and stood in the doorway for a long time. "What's all this?" he said. I said, "Happy Father's Day." He sat down. He ate. He didn't say much — he never says much — but he ate two plates of everything and when he was done he looked at me and said, "You're a good kid, Jake."
That's it. That's the whole review. Five words. But from Tom Kowalski, five words is a soliloquy.
After breakfast, we went to the garage and he showed me how to change the brake pads on the Jeep. My Jeep — the 2014 Wrangler I bought used two years ago, which has become an extension of my identity in a way that is probably unhealthy. The brakes had been squealing for a month and I'd been ignoring it because that's what twenty-one-year-olds do with car problems. Dad had the pads off in twenty minutes, explaining everything as he went — calipers, rotors, wear indicators. I handed him tools and nodded and tried to remember everything. This is how Dad teaches. Not in a classroom, not from a book. In a garage, on his knees, grease on his hands.
At the brewery, I submitted my Baltic porter recipe to Marcus. I'm calling it Forest Floor — smoked malt, dried cherries, a touch of vanilla. Dark, complex, the kind of beer you drink by a fire in October. Marcus read it, circled two things, wrote "too much cherry" on one line, and said, "Revise and resubmit." He's like a thesis advisor for beer.
I revised it that night. Less cherry, more smoke. Resubmitted Friday. Marcus nodded.
At the Polish Center on Thursday, Mrs. Wojcik taught me how to make pączki — Polish doughnuts, filled with rose hip jam, fried golden, dusted with powdered sugar. They're traditionally a pre-Lent thing (Fat Thursday, the Polish equivalent of Mardi Gras) but Mrs. Wojcik doesn't believe in seasonal restrictions on fried dough, which is a philosophy I can get behind. They were incredible — pillowy, rich, the rose hip jam tart and floral inside the sweet dough. I brought a dozen to the brewery the next day and they were gone in eleven minutes. Marcus ate three.
After Mrs. Wojci&k walked me through pâczki — the frying, the rose hip jam, the powdered sugar dusting — I couldn’t stop thinking about that particular magic: sweet dough, a little richness, something to share with people you love. These Holiday Morning Buns aren’t pâczki, but they hit the same note — pillowy, warm, rolled in cinnamon sugar, the kind of thing that makes a table feel like a celebration. If you’re going to make a spread for someone who matters, this is where I’d start.
Holiday (or Birthday!) Morning Buns
Prep Time: 30 min (plus 1 hr 30 min rise) | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: ~2 hr 25 min | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- For the dough:
- 3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
- 2 1/4 tsp active dry yeast (1 standard packet)
- 3/4 cup whole milk, warmed to 110°F
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
- 2 large eggs, room temperature
- 1/2 tsp salt
- For the filling:
- 3 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
- 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
- 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1 tsp finely grated orange zest
- For the coating:
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1 tsp ground cinnamon
- 2 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
Instructions
- Activate the yeast. Combine warm milk, 1 tsp of the granulated sugar, and yeast in a large bowl. Stir gently and let sit 5–10 minutes until foamy.
- Make the dough. Add remaining sugar, softened butter, eggs, and salt to the yeast mixture. Stir to combine. Add flour 1 cup at a time, mixing until a soft dough forms. Knead on a lightly floured surface for 8 minutes until smooth and slightly tacky.
- First rise. Place dough in a lightly greased bowl, cover with a clean towel, and let rise in a warm spot for 1 hour or until doubled in size.
- Make the filling. While dough rises, mix softened butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, and orange zest in a small bowl until combined into a spreadable paste.
- Shape the buns. Punch down dough and roll out on a floured surface into a 12x16-inch rectangle. Spread filling evenly over the surface, leaving a 1/2-inch border along one long edge. Roll tightly from the opposite long edge into a log. Pinch the seam to seal.
- Slice and second rise. Cut the log into 12 equal rounds. Arrange cut-side up in a greased 12-cup muffin tin. Cover and let rise 30 minutes until puffed.
- Bake. Preheat oven to 375°F. Bake buns 22–25 minutes until deep golden brown on top.
- Coat and serve. Mix coating sugar and cinnamon in a shallow bowl. While buns are still warm, brush each with melted butter and roll in the cinnamon sugar to coat. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 285 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 175mg
About the cook who shared this
Jake Kowalski
Week 117 of Jake’s 30-year story
· Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Jake is a twenty-nine-year-old brewery worker, newlywed, and proud Polish-American from Milwaukee's Bay View neighborhood. He didn't start cooking until his grandmother Babcia Helen passed away and left behind a stack of grease-stained recipe cards. Now he makes pierogi from scratch, smokes meats on a balcony smoker his landlord pretends not to notice, and writes for guys who want to cook good food but don't know a roux from a rub.