Happy Thanksgiving. Please pass the Stupid Rolls.

It’s Thanksgiving! Yay!

My special little guy.

This used to be the holiday I hated most. Then I grew all the way up and it got loads better. There have been some mishaps but this year should be good; I’m excited for it. Except the dinner rolls. I am so pissed off at the rolls, I can’t even begin to describe the anger.

You may think it odd to hate rolls when one is not gluten-intolerant. The actual bread food is not the problem. It’s the lie behind the roll that irks me so badly.

My mom makes the rolls for Thanksgiving and Christmas and other food holidays. If you’ve ever made rolls, you know it’s time-consuming but so worth it. My sister, Noelle, and I have always firmly believed that a good roll had to be made from scratch because of our mother’s shining example. And what an example she set! Getting up at the crack of dawn before her four miscreant children could annoy and obstruct, making the dough, shaping the rolls and letting them rise in the heat of the kitchen…wow. Incredible woman, just like her mother had been before her and her mother’s mother before that. Seriously, we have bread-making pride running in our matriarchal line.

Or so we thought.

A few years back, Noelle was spending Thanksgiving with her in-laws and no one had thought to sign up for rolls. Noelle’s a good food-maker so she said, “Oh, no problem. I make rolls all the time. I’ve got it covered.” Except there was a problem: Noelle didn’t have her roll recipe with her. Please note that Mom has never shared her BEST EVER recipe for these amazing dinner rolls so we’ve each found our own over the years. Now, however, Noelle planned to extract the secret.

She called Mom, explained her situation, and asked for the recipe. Mom laughed. Noelle cajoled. Mom said, “Oh, there’s no recipe,” which SHOULD have meant that she had it stored in her head and it had been passed from mother to daughter since our family began. What it REALLY meant was that she’d been buying Rhodes frozen dinner rolls from the grocery store FOR YEARS. She assumed we knew this because “it was pretty obvious – they were perfectly shaped and the Rhodes bag was always in the trash.” However, as I mentioned, she started the rolls before we were  up and by the time we made it to the kitchen, all we saw were the rolls softly, scentily rising (thawing) from beneath a kitchen towel. They were raw and they smelled yeasty and obviously, she’d spent all morning making them. Why would we think otherwise? And why would we be rummaging through the trash to find evidence of store-bought bread?

Noelle told me this little secret and together we were devastated. Everything we’d believed in (regarding holiday rolls) had been a lie. A horrible, cheap, store-bought lie. And the worst part? Those damn rolls are DELICIOUS! They taste home-made! We hate them so much and now call them Mom’s Stupid Rolls (MSR). Because they are stupid.

We learned that our mother is a horrible person and her rolls are not to be trusted. And that is why we drink heavily on Thanksgiving. The end.

May your Thanksgiving day abound with family and friends, with laughter and no choking (because you forgot to swallow before laughing), with games and fun and high spirits, and with good rolls. 

Happy Thanksgiving. Have a seat and start to eat!

**This post is dedicated to Noelle. I am sorry we had to learn the ugly, UGLY truth. I look forward to making Mom feel guilty all day long. It is also dedicated to my evil mother who scarred her poor, trusting children with her dirty, shameful lies. Most of the time I love you, Mom. But not today. Today I dislike you heartily and your little rolls, too!**

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10 Comments

Filed under My Dearly Beloveds, My Opinions on STUFF

10 responses to “Happy Thanksgiving. Please pass the Stupid Rolls.

  1. This might be the best Thanksgiving story I’ve read this year.

  2. I totally read this and forgot to comment on it. I think all of that turkey went to my brain and put it in a week long stupor.

    Your mom is an evil fucking genius. Those things are damn delicious though. I love homemade rolls and make them frequently. However, I have never made anything that had to sit and rise. I’m honestly kind of afraid of it. I always think for some reason that the dough is going to grow to epic proportions and take over my house, enveloping everyone in gooey stuff. I don’t want to suffocate my family. I love them.

    • You can skip the “genius” part and just stick with “evil”; my mother is evil. Obviously. Thus saying, I know you know that loving your family and suffocating them with ever-rising dough – those two things are not mutually exclusive. I mean, you can do both. You can suffocate them AND love them. And honestly? Dough that has to rise is delicious, so they could just eat their way to safety…and then throw up a lot. But you’d be doing them a favor! All those holiday pounds? Chucked right up! You are the BEST MOM/WIFE EVER!!!
      And don’t worry about lack of commentary; I’m just happy when anyone bothers to read my posts, let alone SAY something!

    • Miriam

      What kind of rolls do you make that *don’t* have to sit and rise?! This is like a whole unknown bread technology.

  3. Tyler J. Yoder

    I could totally share my grandmother’s recipe with you, if you like. It was directly willed to me when she passed away, because I was the only grandchild that she thought had a *chance* of making them properly. She tried to teach my mother once, and they were like damp rocks, but properly made they are damned delicious. Or I can just make them on holidays when I’m living in your basement.

    • YES!
      You’re in charge of concrete projects and now holiday rolls! This is going to work out well. I think, though, you’ll have to teach Noelle, Little B, and I all how to make them so that this sort of horror never happens again – the being away and needing a roll recipe horror, I mean.
      Because the horror that is my mom cheating on rolls will happen over and over. She’s a bad person.

      • Tyler J. Yoder

        Just as long as I don’t get the projects confused and teach you how to make concrete rolls and then put a bunch of yeasty dough in the yard to rise. That could end badly.

  4. My mom used to make her spaghetti sauce from scratch too (supposedly) but like you we only saw it in the pot simmering all day. Placed on the stove hours before we awoke! Hmmm…. Could that generation of Moms all be evil trickers?????!!!!!!

    • Wait, are you saying that maybe your mom was FAKING HER SPAGHETTI SAUCE?
      No! I can’t believe your mom would be one of the bad ones, one of the tricksy ones, one of the EVIL TRICKERS!
      Oh, well, actually, yeah, I can believe that about your mom, now that I think about it.

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