One of the traditions at our house is that regardless of where we spend Christmas, I always am the baker of the rolls. Every other year we stay here and celebrate with our family and any grandparents who want to join us. On those years I make a whole turkey feast including my homemade rolls. On the other year (which is happening this year) we travel to Eastern Washington and spend Christmas Eve with my fam and Christmas Day with the rest of the Dudleys. On those years my contribution to the Dudley feast is homemade rolls.
That is the history leading up to why I find myself on this Sunday baking a batch of rolls. The rest of that history involves my Nana, thus the title of this blog. Nana is the one who taught me the fine art of yeast rolls. She gave me the recipe, but more importantly she showed me the way she was taught to make them, a family tradition. I still remember those many years ago in Nana's kitchen learning this art. She was so patient and let me do everything, even crack the eggs. She showed me the proper way to make them into rolls and every little detail. I remember her apron getting all dusted with flour. I remember the smell of the yeast. I remember how she said to knead the dough until it was as "smooth as a baby's bottom". I remember it all. The reason I remember is because I helped her make them many many times. She really did want me to learn how to make them and I'm so glad she did. Each time I make a batch I think of Nana. She passed from this earth in February of 1990 and I still miss her very much. I am sure that the folks in Heaven are enjoying a nice batch of homemade rolls as we speak. I feel Nana's presence each time I make them. Thank you Nana for passing along a tradition to me and for being my Nana.
Dudster
