Our Holiday Traditions, Vol. 2 – My Grandmothers' Pecan Rolls

Personal traditions can be a balm to the soul in a hectic world. Here at The Attic on Eighth, we hail from all over the globe and so we head into the holiday season with a variety of traditions influencing our content. In this series inspired by and dedicated to our founding Lifestyle Editor, Lee Clark, we hope to add to the joyous community spirit of the season and share holiday traditions that are dear to our hearts. In this second volume, Attic writer M.A. McCuen shares her most prized family recipe.

All photos courtesy of M.A. McCuen.

I believe that the best recipes are written on note cards, scribbled in handwritten scrawl, and passed from generation to generation of family members. Such is the recipe of pecan, brown sugar rolls in my family. I was lucky to have two grandparents, who I affectionately nicknamed Dee and Pep. They loved to cook and bake when I visited them. The holiday season included the most delicious confections: peanut brittle, cooked carefully over the stove, and “church windows,” an adorable and delicious marshmallow and chocolate concoction. As I got older, I came to realize that our family’s pecan rolls were truly the crowning glory of our holiday tradition. They are flakey, yeast rolls with caramelized bottoms and the thrill of crunchy nuts. Not overly sweet, like most pecan rolls, these rolls are savory enough to be served with dinner and not as a dessert. The best part of them is eating them the next morning, toasted warm in the oven, for breakfast. 

The recipe, handwritten by the author’s grandmother.

Just as special to me as this delicious recipe is, I also cherish the way that the rolls tell our family’s story. Specifically, the story of my grandparents. Growing up, my grandma, Dee, would make the rolls for each family holiday. The recipe I have now is written in her own handwriting, tiny notes made in margins, marking adjustments that can be made to fit certain family members’ tastes and allergies. I cannot put words to how wonderful my grandmother was. However, one Christmas, when I was eight, we took a trip to Chicago with my grandma, mom, and aunt. It was an adorable trip, in which most of it was spent in the American Girl store where I got my first doll. Dee felt a weird sensation, like something was wrong and we went back home early. Shortly after, she was diagnosed with cancer and passed away.

It was a really hard time for my family. Grief is always difficult. It was through this that something happened, which at the time felt jarring, but now feels miraculous. Pep, who had been born male and until this moment had been my grandpa, explained to us that she would begin making the transition she was born to make. I would love to say that my family was a picture perfect image of acceptance, but the truth was, there were growing pains: adjustments and emotions as our family confused lack of understanding with hurt. After all, it was the early 2000’s and trans issues were still mostly not talked about. Looking back, I see nothing but bravery in Pep for sharing with us her true self after a lifetime of having to hide it. I also see admiration for my parents who worked to grow in empathy, reading memoirs and watching Oprah specials, to learn about Pep’s transition. They helped educate little nine-year-old me about how our family was changing and growing, how Pep was more fully becoming her true self through her transition. 

As she transitioned, Pep became a unique brand of grandma, different than my grandma Dee (and of course, never a replacement). She helped encourage my love of writing. She traveled the world and published books on the history of trains. She taught Broadcasting classes at a local university. However there was one grandmotherly tasked she embraced fully- making the rolls. They arrived at our family holidays without missing a beat. The rolls, despite our changing and shifting family dynamics, remained as flakey, sweet, and delicious as ever.

When I was in high school, Pep passed away. My mother took over making rolls. I watched in awe as she managed the two day recipe. Yeast rising has always intimidated me, but my mom, after years of training with her own parents, took on the recipe and made it her own.

When I moved to Ireland, my roommates and I were asked to host an American Thanksgiving for our friends in town. We each decided to make a family recipe to share. Obviously, I had to make the rolls. My mom sent me photos of the recipe card and I set off to parcel together the recipe based on ingredients found in the local Tesco. It was hard, scary even, and I held my breath the whole night hoping the dough would rise. It did. I rolled out the dough with a flour-covered wine bottle. I made each roll, one by one, with care (this is not a practical way to make the rolls- don’t actually do this). In the end, they turned out perfect and my new friends loved them (despite the fact that some of them mistook them for a Yorkshire pudding and poured gravy on them).

Now, I make the rolls each year for my group of friends at our annual Hallowthankgiveween party. I still get a little nervous (and a little dramatic) each time I make them, but they’ve turned out great each time I make them. My friends look forward to them and excitedly devour them, which really warms my heart. I love making the rolls, knowing that I’m following in the beautiful tradition of the women in my family.

My Grandmothers’ Pecan, Brown Sugar Rolls

You will need:
(Please note that the original recipe was written in American measurements. All conversions are approximate.)

• 1 cup (236 ml) of hot water

• 1 cup (236 ml) of lard

• ½ cup (100 g) of sugar

• 1 tsp. salt

• 2 packages of yeast

• 1 cup (236 ml) of warm water

• 2 eggs

• 6 cups (720 g) of flour

• 2 sticks (226 g) of butter

• 3 cups (600 g) of brown sugar

• 1 1/2 cups (300 g) of crushed pecans

Day 1: 

– In a microwavable bowl, combine hot water, lard, sugar, and salt. Microwave in increments of 30 seconds, until all are melted and combined. My mom prefers to do this step in a pot over low heat on the stove. Either way, once melted and combined, set aside to cool.

– In another bowl, dissolve the yeast packets with warm (not hot) water. Stir gently till the yeast is dissolved. Set aside to cool.

– Once both bowls are cooled (usually around 45 minutes), combine the two together. Add flour slowly, one cup at a time. Add beaten eggs. Mix until it forms a dough-like consistency.

– Cover bowl with a towel and put in the fridge to rise overnight.

Day 2:

– Take dough out of fridge, hopefully it should have risen, if it hasn’t yet- don’t panic. It will continue to rise throughout the morning.

– Soften a stick of butter in the microwave until spreadable, but not melted.

– Grease muffin tins with butter.

– Divide dough into three portions. Sprinkle flour on a pastry mat and on the rolling pin (or a bottle of wine). –Roll out the first portion, until approximately a ½ inch thick.

– Spread with butter, until covered in butter. Sprinkle with one cup of brown sugar and a dash of cinnamon on top. Sprinkle a half cup of pecans on top.

– Roll the dough. Slice the dough so that each roll is approximately an inch and a half. Place rolls into greased muffin tins. Place a pat of butter on top of each roll. Lots of butter is key to success in this recipe. In Pep’s words, “Fry the rolls the from the inside out.”

– Repeat with the other two thirds of dough. I typically make one third without pecans for people who have nut allergies.

– Allow rolls to rise throughout the morning until it’s almost time to eat (anything from 3 to 6 hours).

– Preheat the oven for 375F/190C. Bake rolls for approximately 20 minutes. Eyeball it, keep them in for another 5 to 10 minutes, if needed. Dee’s recipe says up to 35 minutes, but I find that 20 is usually perfect.

– Once rolls are cooked, set down a towel on a table. Immediately after taking out of the oven, be bold and SLAM the muffin tin on the table. The rolls should fall out, complete with gooey, caramelized bottoms.

Serve warm and enjoy! Save extras for breakfast tomorrow morning!

---

M. A. McCuen is a secondary English literature teacher based in Omaha, Nebraska. Originally from Michigan, she has a BA in English and French from University of Notre Dame and a M.Ed from Creighton University. Having previously lived in France and Ireland, she spends her scant free time plotting ways to travel the world on her teachers salary.