Swiss Butterhorns

Easter Sunday. Service in the morning. Big Sunday dinner at the house. Ham, biscuits, the standard.

Connie made jam Saturday afternoon. Wild blackberries from the patch up the hollow. Twelve jars. The pantry is filling for winter.

Sunday service at Harlan First Baptist when we go. Pastor preached about Ruth and Boaz. The choir sang. Connie wore her gray dress.

Amber sent the kids' school photos this week. Nadia is taller every year. Marcus has Amber's serious face. Little Betty has Mama's eyes.

I sat at the kitchen table Tuesday night working on the recipe project. Mama's soup beans. I cannot get the words right yet.

I checked the truck oil Saturday. The mileage on this truck is criminal.

I went up to Earl's grave at the Evarts cemetery Saturday. Brought a beer. Drank half. Poured the rest on the dirt. Some traditions are mine alone.

Travis sent a photo of Earl Thomas riding on the mower with him at a job site. The boy is wearing a Hensley Landscaping T-shirt that's too big. Three generations on a mower. I saved the photo.

I split a half-cord of wood Saturday. Slowly. The back does not let me work fast anymore. It got done. The wood was for the smokehouse.

Connie read aloud from a novel Tuesday evening while I worked on the bench. Some Appalachian writer she had picked up at the library in Whitesburg. The voice was the voice of where we live. We listened together.

The neighbor up the road — Old Roy, eighty-seven, lives alone — had a small heart scare. We took him soup beans Tuesday. Cornbread too. He cried a little when he ate. We all cry over soup beans eventually.

Drove the truck to the dump Saturday afternoon. Saw three deer crossing the road on the way back. The mountains have been giving back this year.

My back was tight after the wood-splitting Saturday. Took an Aleve. Slept eight hours. Got up.

Connie cut my hair on the porch Tuesday afternoon. She has been cutting my hair for forty years. The barber in Pineville cannot do what Connie does, which is also love.

The dog — old Beau, fifteen years old — slept by the wood stove all afternoon Tuesday. He used to be a hunting dog. Now he is a heating pad with opinions.

Read the paper at breakfast Tuesday. The county news is not great. The mines have not come back and they will not come back. The young people leave. The hollows empty. We stay.

I sat on the porch with bourbon at sundown Friday. The fog rolled into the hollow the way it has every fog of every year. The porch was the porch. The bourbon was the bourbon.

Worked on a basement remodel job in Lexington. The work was good. The pay was good. The body is tired.

Drove to Pineville for parts Wednesday. The hardware store man knew me. We talked about the weather and the price of feed. Forty minutes for a five-minute errand. That is rural Kentucky.

The creek was running clear Sunday afternoon. I watched a kingfisher work the riffle. Did not move for an hour. Some Sundays the watching is the worship.

I never did get the soup beans recipe written down right that week — the words still weren’t coming — but Connie had the kitchen warm and I found myself mixing dough instead, which is its own kind of language. These Swiss Butterhorns are what we made the Saturday after we took Old Roy his supper; there’s something about buttering a pan of soft rolls that settles the kind of tiredness that Aleve and eight hours of sleep can’t quite reach. If you’ve ever fed someone who cried a little when they ate, you already understand why bread matters.

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 18 min | Total Time: 2 hr 48 min (includes rise time) | Servings: 24 rolls

Ingredients

1 cup whole milk, warmed to 110°F
2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 standard packet)
1/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs, room temperature
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened, divided
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted, for brushing
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons whole milk (for glaze)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

Proof the yeast. In a large bowl, combine warm milk, yeast, and 1 tablespoon of the granulated sugar. Stir gently and let sit 8–10 minutes until foamy.
Make the dough. To the yeast mixture, add the eggs, remaining sugar, salt, and 1/4 cup softened butter. Mix to combine. Add flour one cup at a time, mixing until a soft dough forms. It should be slightly tacky but not sticky.
Knead and rise. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead 6–8 minutes until smooth and elastic. Place in a greased bowl, cover with a clean kitchen towel, and let rise in a warm spot 1 to 1 1/2 hours until doubled.
Shape the butterhorns. Punch down the dough and divide in half. On a lightly floured surface, roll each half into a 12-inch circle. Spread each circle with 2 tablespoons softened butter. Cut each circle into 12 wedges, like a pizza. Roll each wedge from the wide end toward the point and curve slightly to form a crescent shape. Place point-side down on greased baking sheets.
Second rise. Cover loosely and let rise 45 minutes to 1 hour until puffed.
Bake. Preheat oven to 375°F. Bake 15–18 minutes until golden brown. Brush immediately with melted butter as they come out of the oven.
Make the glaze. Whisk together powdered sugar, 2 tablespoons milk, and vanilla until smooth. Drizzle over warm rolls before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Swiss Butterhorns — The Kind of Thing You Bake When the Week Has Been Long and Good