The owner and head chef of a restaurant by the same name, Lillian teaches a cooking class to a small group of students once a month on Monday nights. Calling her class “The School of Essential Ingredients,” Lillian looks to impart her particular cooking method to her class, a technique that has little use for recipes and instead relies on each person’s understanding and feeling of every necessary ingredient. Lillian taught herself how to cook as she made meals for herself and her mother, eventually using food to draw her mother out of her book-lined shell. Taking her knowledge of the chemistry between food and human emotion, Lillian imperceptibly teaches her students how food can affect their lives and mend relationships. Each chapter delves into the life of a member of the cooking class, revealing the reason they are there and what life is like at home. As the students become more familiar with each other in class, their lives start blending together, intersecting after class and beyond. Food and the pleasure it brings heals several people’s wounds and makes this group of strangers close friends, roommates, and lovers. It’s hard to describe a novel like this that is so subtle, and where the pieces fit together so perfectly but so seamlessly, it’s difficult to identify the initial components. The writing in this firs t novel is so smooth, it really could have been about anything and it would have been a good book. Bauermeister has a gift for writing about food, and I wonder if it spreads to other topics as well. The metaphors and similes she uses are so poetic, she has you rereading phrases just to capture them in your head forever. I can see myself reading this over and over again. Although this is not magical realism, the food descriptions remind me of Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. Recommended to me by a coworker who loved it so much her husband read it and loved it too, The School of Essential Ingredients is an appetizing delight.
The first time I made them, I foolishly thought I didn't need to read the directions thoroughly, so I spread too much melted butter on the dough before adding the filling, which made all the cinnamony sugar run out of the rolls when I baked them.
For the second batch, I increased the sugar in the dough by 1 tablespoon. I probably could have put even more in (because there is never a thing as too much sugar), but this little bit seemed to make the entire dish sweeter. One of the best parts about the recipe is the addition of cloves to the cinnamon and brown sugar mixture of the inside of the rolls. The ground cloves really sets off the cinnamon and is delicious.
When I was growing up, my parents made cinnamon rolls for Sunday breakfast each week. While everyone else was digging in, I patiently unrolled the finished roll, put butter between all the layers, then rolled it back together to douse it with powdered sugar icing. That treatment is just as good now as it was back then. 
I don't understand how they work (something about their compostion that I haven't read carefully enough to remember), but these beauties work great. Since I received them for Christmas, I've raved about them so much that my little brother wants one for his first apartment. 
I didn't make the ganache for the Chocolate Marble Bread, as the bread is good enough without it. Having made this recipe before, the bread actually tastes better the second day. The Pumpkin Bread was drizzled with powdered sugar icing, which ended up soaking into the bread. Oh well, it looked nice.
to give to work and church friends.
After these inital first successes, we excitedly made more batches, only to yield completely disappointing results. We don't know what we did differently, but now we cannot get this recipe to work! So I've basically thrown out this recipe and have gone back to the standard Tollhouse recipe.
Somehow we didn't take pictures of our favorite new recipe, 
Snow cream almost done!
