The week after Passover is always a readjustment — chametz returns, the everyday dishes come back, the kitchen reverts to its non-Passover self, and I eat a piece of bread with the specific joy of a person who has been denied bread for eight days. Do not underestimate the joy of bread after Passover. It is one of the great pleasures of the Jewish calendar. You don't appreciate bread until you go without it, and then the first bite of challah on the Friday after Passover is transcendent — the yeast, the sweetness, the yielding texture that says: I am bread. I am ordinary. I am everything.
I turned sixty this week. April twelfth. The number arrived like a visitor I had been expecting but wasn't fully ready for. Sixty. Six decades. Three thousand one hundred and twenty Shabbat dinners, give or take. Thirty-eight years of teaching. Thirty-five years of marriage. Two children, two grandchildren, and a blog that a year ago didn't exist and now has readers who write me letters that make me cry at the kitchen table. Sixty is not old. Sixty is experienced. Sixty is the age at which you finally know what you know and can stop pretending to know what you don't.
David and Jennifer drove down with the grandchildren. Rebecca brought wine and a first edition of a Chekhov collection that she found at a rare book shop in Manhattan, and I held it like a person holding something holy, because first-edition Chekhov is holy to a woman who has taught literature for thirty-eight years and believes that Chekhov understood human beings better than anyone who ever held a pen. Marvin gave me a card — handwritten, three pages, funny and tender, referencing forty years of inside jokes. I keep every card. They are my most valuable possessions. They are worth more than the house.
I wrote a blog post about turning sixty — about the strange mathematics of a life measured in Shabbat dinners. Roughly three thousand and counting, I wrote. Each one a candle lit, a prayer said, a challah broken, a table set for however many people happened to be there that week — sometimes twelve, sometimes two. Each one a repetition, and each one unrepeatable, because you can make the same dinner every Friday for sixty years and no two Fridays are the same, because you are not the same. You are sixty. You were twenty. You were forty. The challah tastes different at each age. The candles light a different face. The prayer comes from a deeper place. And still you set the table. And still you light the candles. And still.
After a week spent thinking about repetition and ritual — about the way the same act can hold sixty years of different meaning — I wanted to bake something that required patience and attention, something that rewarded the waiting. Sticky buns felt right: they’re a little indulgent, a little celebratory, the kind of thing you make when ordinary Friday deserves to feel like a small occasion. I added lemon because Marvin says it brightens everything, and he’s usually right about that. Here’s how I made them.
Lemon Sticky Buns with Lemony Cream Cheese Glaze
Prep Time: 30 min (plus 2 hrs rising) | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 2 hrs 55 min | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- For the dough:
- 3/4 cup whole milk, warmed to 110°F
- 2 1/4 tsp active dry yeast (one standard packet)
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 2 large eggs, room temperature
- 1/3 cup unsalted butter, softened
- 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
- Zest of 1 lemon
- 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
- 1 tsp fine salt
- For the lemon filling:
- 4 tbsp unsalted butter, very soft
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- Zest of 2 large lemons
- 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
- For the lemony cream cheese glaze:
- 4 oz cream cheese, softened
- 1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
- 3 tbsp fresh lemon juice
- Zest of 1 lemon
- 2–3 tbsp whole milk, as needed for consistency
Instructions
- Activate the yeast. In a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer, combine the warm milk and sugar. Sprinkle the yeast over the top and let it sit for 5–10 minutes, until the surface is foamy and the yeast smells alive and yeasty. If it doesn’t foam, your milk may have been too hot or your yeast may be old — start again.
- Build the dough. Add the eggs, softened butter, vanilla, and lemon zest to the yeast mixture and stir to combine. Add the flour and salt. Knead by hand on a lightly floured surface, or with a dough hook on medium speed, for 8–10 minutes until the dough is smooth, slightly tacky, and springs back when pressed. It will be softer than bread dough — that’s correct.
- First rise. Transfer the dough to a lightly greased bowl and cover with plastic wrap or a clean kitchen towel. Let rise in a warm spot until doubled in size, about 1 to 1 1/2 hours.
- Make the filling. Stir together the softened butter, sugar, lemon zest, and lemon juice until it forms a spreadable paste. Set aside.
- Shape the rolls. Turn the risen dough out onto a lightly floured surface and roll into a rectangle roughly 12 by 18 inches. Spread the lemon filling evenly across the surface, leaving a 1/2-inch border along one long edge. Starting from the opposite long edge, roll the dough up tightly into a log. Slice into 12 equal rounds, each about 1 1/2 inches thick, using a sharp knife or unflavored dental floss for cleaner cuts.
- Second rise. Arrange the rolls cut-side up in a greased 9-by-13-inch baking pan. Cover loosely and let rise for 30–45 minutes, until the rolls are visibly puffed and pressing against each other.
- Bake. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Bake the rolls for 22–26 minutes, until the tops are golden and the centers are set. A roll in the center of the pan should feel firm, not doughy, when pressed lightly.
- Make the glaze. While the rolls bake, beat the cream cheese with a hand mixer or whisk until completely smooth. Add the powdered sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and beat until glossy. Add milk one tablespoon at a time until the glaze is thick but pourable — it should ribbon off a spoon.
- Glaze and serve. Let the buns cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then drizzle the cream cheese glaze generously over the top. Serve warm, pulled apart at the table — which is, after all, the whole point.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 345 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 53g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 215mg