The continuing of an Easter Tradition

When I was growing up, my grandmother would always make those delicious mini nut, apricot and poppy seed, nut rolls.

The buttery and sweet taste would just melt in your mouth and the sweetness of the nuts and fruits would just make you weak in the knees.

I had made the rolls once for Christmas when I was still living at my parents' house, but this year was the first year I was going to do it on my own.

I decided to make the dough yesterday, break it into five different patties, wrap it in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge overnight.

When I took the dough out this morning, to my dismay, it was as hard as a rock. I mean it was like clay that a kid left out in the sun for a few days.

Now, these Hungarian and Slovak women who originally made these rolls must have been built like battleships because rolling out this dough was really tough.

After rolling out the dough, I had to make the filling for the nut rolls.

Pretty much you get a bag of walnuts and grind them until they reach the consistency of a corn meal.

Then you add milk and sugar. I don't have an exact measurement because it is according to your taste.

My grandmother would say that you make it sweet to the point that you almost can't stand how sweet it is.

Once you make the filling you cut the pieces of dough to the size you want, put a dollop of filling and then pinch together.

The trick to making them stick together is to wet the point where the two overlap with water and then pinch. The water almost acts like a glue.

Put the rolls on a cookie sheet, lined with foil for easy clean-up. Put the cookie sheet into a 375 degree oven for about eight minutes. You will need to check the bottoms of the rolls to make sure they don't burn.

And of course, I decided to bake on the day it has reached record high temperatures for the month of April.

All in all, everything worked out, even though I started to run out of steam about halfway through.

Just like our little Finnegan, I think I am ready for a small cat nap.