Strawberry Cinnamon Rolls -- The Jam That Remembers June

The week of small abundance. The peas are now in full production — I am picking a colander a day, eating them raw at the counter while I shell them, freezing the surplus in pint bags for the winter chili and pot pies. The lettuce is at the height of its early-summer peak, the radishes are giving me their last harvest before they bolt in the heat that is coming, the spring onions are big enough to use, and the first of the herbs in the kitchen window planters — basil and parsley and chives and oregano — are all giving enough that I can cook with them daily. The garden in late June is at its most generous, before the heat-related issues of July begin to introduce complications, and a man with the discipline to use what the garden is producing eats well in this week and freezes well for the months ahead.

Made a pea soup Wednesday — fresh peas, water, a little butter, salt, pureed in the blender, finished with a tablespoon of cream and a sprinkle of chopped chives. The soup is barely a recipe — it is more a technique than a recipe — and the result is a bright spring-green soup that tastes of nothing but peas and that is the perfect first course on a warm summer evening when you do not want a heavy meal but you also do not want a salad. I served it cold (it is good either way, but the cold version is the better summer choice) and ate it on the porch and the dog watched me eat it without much interest, peas not being a vegetable that interests dogs, which is one of the small consistent observations of dog ownership.

The strawberry jam happened Saturday. Eight pints from the patch and the few quarts I had bought from the U-pick in Charlotte to round out the batch. I made the jam the way Helen made it — strawberries, sugar, lemon juice, no commercial pectin, the long slow cook to the proper set. The set is the trick. A man who watches the jam too closely and pulls it too soon will have a runny preserve that is delicious but pourable. A man who waits too long will have a stiff candy that has lost the bright fresh strawberry flavor. The window between the two is narrow and is mostly a matter of feel — you watch the jam sheet off the spoon, you do the cold plate test, you take it off when it looks right. I took it off when it looked right. The eight pints sealed in the canner, the lids popping over the next half hour as they cooled, the row of jars on the kitchen counter cooling in the late afternoon light, the small satisfaction of having put something by that I will eat through the winter and that will give me, in February, the brief taste of a June afternoon when the patch was producing.

Anna called Sunday afternoon. The case she had been working on for a long time has resolved in the right direction — the family she had been trying to keep together has indeed stayed together, the various interventions and supports she had assembled have held, the children are with the parents and the parents are getting the help they need. She is not allowed to tell me the details and does not. She is allowed to tell me the outcome and did. I told her: that is good work, Anna. She said: it is rare. I said: rare is when good work shows. We talked for half an hour. The work she does is the kind of work that mostly does not produce these outcomes, and the rarity of the success is what makes the success matter, and Anna at thirty-one understands this in a way that she did not understand at twenty-five, which is one of the gifts of being thirty-one and not twenty-five and that is not always a gift the receiver appreciates at the time. I appreciated it for her.

Eight pints of jam on the counter, the lids still popping as they cooled — that kind of Saturday calls for something that puts the jam to immediate use, not just stores it away for February. The strawberry cinnamon roll is the natural answer: it takes the preserve you made with patience and care and folds it into a soft, generous roll that lets you taste the season right now, in the warmth of a June kitchen, before the jars even make it to the shelf. I made a batch Sunday morning, before Anna called, and the house smelled like the best version of the weekend.

Strawberry Cinnamon Rolls

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 2 hr (including rise time) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

• 3/4 cup whole milk, warmed to 110°F
• 2 1/4 tsp active dry yeast (one standard packet)
• 1/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
• 2 large eggs, room temperature
• 1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
• 1 tsp fine salt
• 4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
• 1 cup strawberry jam (homemade preferred)
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 2 tbsp unsalted butter, softened (for filling)
• For the glaze: 1 cup powdered sugar
• 3 tbsp strawberry jam
• 2–3 tbsp milk or cream
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Activate the yeast. Combine warm milk, yeast, and 1 tbsp of the granulated sugar in a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer. Let sit 5–10 minutes until foamy.
2. Make the dough. Add eggs, melted butter, remaining sugar, and salt to the yeast mixture. Add flour one cup at a time, mixing until a soft, slightly tacky dough forms. Knead by hand on a lightly floured surface, or with a dough hook, for 6–8 minutes until smooth and elastic.
3. First rise. Place dough in a lightly greased bowl, cover with plastic wrap or a clean towel, and let rise in a warm spot until doubled in size, about 1 hour.
4. Roll and fill. Punch down dough and turn out onto a lightly floured surface. Roll into a rectangle approximately 16 x 12 inches. Spread softened butter evenly over the surface, then spread strawberry jam in an even layer, leaving a 1/2-inch border at the far long edge. Sprinkle cinnamon evenly over the jam.
5. Shape the rolls. Starting from the long edge closest to you, roll the dough tightly into a log. Pinch the seam to seal. Using a sharp knife or unflavored dental floss, cut the log into 12 equal rolls.
6. Second rise. Arrange rolls cut-side up in a greased 9 x 13-inch baking pan. Cover loosely and let rise 30–40 minutes until puffed and touching.
7. Bake. Preheat oven to 350°F. Bake rolls 22–25 minutes until golden on top and cooked through. Do not overbake — the rolls should remain soft and pillowy.
8. Make the glaze. Whisk together powdered sugar, strawberry jam, milk or cream, and vanilla until smooth and pourable. Add milk a little at a time to reach desired consistency.
9. Glaze and serve. Drizzle glaze generously over warm rolls. Serve immediately, or cool completely before storing covered at room temperature up to two days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 58g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 210mg