I have been baking cinnamon rolls non-stop for the past few weeks. I learned so much from every batch, from the botched to the beautiful, that none of it has been a waste. But somewhere in the last few days, I started growing close-throated at the idea of another cinnamon roll. Time to bake something else. My dear friend, Tita, a close confidante for the past 18 years, knows her food. Tita’s the one who gave me the cornbread recipe we love. When I told her stories of making cinnamon rolls that begin by heating oil and milk, she made a face. “I’ve never done that. All you need is a white bread dough.”

It had never occurred to me that a cinnamon roll dough is a white bread dough. (I’ve been studying cinnamon roll recipes like they are the Torah. I swear no one mentioned this.)

I may be a gluten-free girl, but the white bread dough doesn’t intimidate me. I pulled out the scale and measured out the ratio of flours to liquids to eggs. I chose almond flour for its high protein content and slightly sweet taste. (Corn flour shows up in all the Italian gluten-free delicacies we ate on our honeymoon.) And I pulled out potato starch, tapioca flour, and sweet rice flour, for the starchiness. I turned to Little Bean, babbling and banging the whisk on the countertop beside me, and said, “Let’s begin.”

I knew it under my hands as I mixed and rolled. This was the one.

Now, my cinnamon rolls may not be the ones you like best. That’s okay. There’s not a single creative expression that will win universal approval. That’s not why we do this.

Years ago, before I moved to New York, my partner, a painter, and I talked about why we do what we do, this crazy passion and need to put things on blank canvases. He said something that has always stayed with me: “I just make the paintings I wish I could look at. You should write the books you want to read.”

That’s what I’m always doing, when I write, whether it’s letters or books. I’m just sitting here trying to write what I wish I could read.

And now I’ve created the cinnamon rolls I wished I could eat.

If you enjoy them too, that’s all the better.

Merry Christmas.

Gluten-Free Cinnamon Rolls

You’ll see that I have given the flour measurements here in ounces. I bake by weight, with a trusty scale, spooning out flours to exactly four ounces. It makes baking more precise, which is vital to gluten-free baking. It also, however, makes it liberating. Once you figure out the ratios, you don’t need someone else’s recipes. You can make it up on the spot.

That’s my hope, that enough of you start baking by weight that you won’t even need to look at my recipes. We can just have conversations instead.

I know that some of you will ask about substitutions. I don’t know. If you can’t eat almonds, or have an allergy to corn, or have just run out of potato starch, you can substitute other flours, if you use the same weight as the original. I’ve used brown rice flour, sorghum, teff, and arrowroot powder successfully here too. The ratio is what really matters. Now, personally, I probably wouldn’t use any of the bean flours in cinnamon rolls, or mesquite, or anything that smacks of healthy eating. It’s a cinnamon roll. Let it be starchy and doughy for one day.

(I’ve put the flours into cups, which I measured after I baked these. Keep in mind that how you measure a cup may be different than how I do it here.)

These cinnamon rolls can be dairy-free, as well as gluten-free. In fact, the rolls you see here were made with goat’s milk powder, so if you need to avoid cow’s milk, this is your recipe. You could substitute soy milk powder or rice milk powder, if you can find it.

Other than that, I really don’t know. I’m pretty darned happy with these cinnamon rolls. They’re gluten-free. That’s how I need to eat. If there are ingredients here you can’t eat, then it’s your turn to adapt this recipe and make these the best cinnamon rolls for your kitchen.

• 1 1/2 cups water
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 2 1/2 teaspoons active-dry yeast
• 4 ounces almond flour (1 1/4 cup)
• 4 ounces corn flour (3/4 cup)
• 4 ounces sweet rice flour (3/4 cup)
• 4 ounces potato starch (2/3 cup)
• 4 ounces tapioca flour (1 cup)
• 1 tablespoon xanthan gum
• 1 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup milk powder (we used goat milk powder in this batch)
• 2 large eggs, at room temperature

Filling for Cinnamon Rolls

• 4 ounces unsalted butter (1 stick or 8 tablespoons)
• 2/3 cup brown sugar
• 4 teaspoons cinnamon
• 3 tablespoons agave nectar (or maple syrup)
• 1/2 cup golden raisins
• 1/2 cup walnuts

Cream Cheese Frosting

• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
• 4 tablespoons cream cheese, at room temperature
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 2 cups powdered sugar

Activating the yeast. Bring 1 cup of the water to 115°. This is a good temperature for yeast — not too hot, not too cold. If you want to be particular about it, you can use a thermometer to measure the temperature. I like to turn on the tap water and run it over my wrist. When the water feels like the temperature of my skin (with no cold splashes or hot pockets), it’s ready. Mix the water, yeast, and sugar in a medium-sized bowl. Set it aside to rise, about 15 minutes.

Mixing the dry ingredients. Combine the almond flour, corn flour, sweet rice flour, potato starch, tapioca flour, xanthan gum, and salt together. Whisk them together in a food processor, or in a stand mixer, or with a whisk. Combining them into one flour will help the final cinnamon rolls to be light, rather than dense and lumpy. Add the brown sugar and milk powder. Stir to combine.

Finishing the dough. Bring the remaining 1/2 cup of water to 110°. If you have a stand mixer, move the dry ingredients into the bowl of the stand mixer. (If not, you can make this dough with a hand mixer or by hand.) Turn the mixer on medium-low speed and add the yeasty water, then the eggs, 1 at a time, mixing in between. Mix for a few minutes until the dough comes together. If the dough feels a bit too dry, add the remaining water. (I always seem to need it.) The dough should be soft and a bit shaggy but not soggy. It will NOT be as firm as you expect a gluten dough to be. Instead, you are aiming for pliable and a bit spongy, like a cookie dough.

Yeast doughs will vary in behavior depending on the weather. These measurements are a guide. If you find you need another splash of water to make the dough feel right, then go ahead. If the dough feels too wet (like you need to wipe your hands after touching it), then add a touch more potato starch. Start to trust your instincts.

Letting the dough rise. Move the dough to a large greased bowl. Cover with a clean tea towel and set the bowl in a warm place in the kitchen. Allow it to rise until it has doubled in size, about 1 hour. The dough will have become a bit more pliable, a little more like gluten dough, at this point.

Rolling out the dough. Grab a Silpat (or piece of parchment paper) and lay it on a large baking sheet. Move 1/2 of the dough onto the Silpat and cover it entirely with plastic wrap. Slowly, roll out the dough to the edge of the baking sheet. (You’re rolling out its width, first.) I try to make the dough the width of the rolling pin. Next, spin around the baking sheet and roll out the dough lengthwise. You probably won’t take it as far as the edge. Simply roll it out to about 1/2-inch thick. Take off the plastic wrap.

Making the filling. Melt the butter on the stove, on low heat. Put half the brown sugar, cinnamon, agave nectar, golden raisins, and walnuts onto the rolled-out dough. Drizzle 1/4 of the melted butter on top.

Rolling the dough. Here’s the important part: go slowly. Grab the Silpat on the edge farthest from you and pull it up gently. The edge of the dough should start to roll away from the Silpat and toward the dough. If not, then nudge it with your fingers. Make tight rolls, moving slowly and patting the dough gently as you go. Roll the dough, then press it down with the Silpat, then roll some more, with the dough falling toward you, going slowly. If the filling oozes out as you reach the end, that’s okay. It’s a sign you’re going to have good cinnamon rolls.

(Nothing of this should be about being perfect, anyway.)

Cutting the dough into rolls. Go grab your dental floss. Yes, your dental floss. Cut a long piece of it, longer than two hand widths apart. Slide the piece under the log of dough, then bring the two edges together to cross over the top. By doing this, you should be slicing a piece off the log. This makes for lovely, neat pieces, instead of jagged hunks. Make your way down the log of dough with the dental floss. You should end up with about 8 pieces, with ragged end bits as well.

(Sometimes I bake the ragged ends separately, as little cinnamon swirls. Sometimes I just throw them in.)

Preparing to rise the rolls again. Pour 2 tablespoons of the melted butter into the bottom of a pie pan. Place the sliced rolls into the buttered pan, tightening the rolls if they have begun to unravel. Set them aside to rise.

Repeat this process with the other half of the dough and remaining filling.

Allow the rolls to rise for 1 more hour. Gluten-free doughs do not rise as high as gluten doughs do on the second rise, but they do puff out nicely. It’s worth it.

Baking the rolls. Preheat the oven to 350°. When the oven has come to temperature, slide in both pans. Bake until the rolls fill firm to the touch when you press on both sides of one, but still with some give, about 25 minutes.

Allow the rolls to cool for about 10 minutes, then invert them onto a plate.

Frosting the rolls. Put the butter and cream cheese into a food processor. Whirl them up. While that is mixing, pour in the vanilla extract. Add the powdered sugar in handfuls, looking at the texture of the frosting between batches. It usually takes about 2 cups for frosting to be thick and rich in our food processor, but you may like a different texture. This is only a guide.

Frost the rolls when they have reached room temperature.

Go at it.

Makes about 16 cinnamon rolls.

Sunday Brunch is an ongoing series featuring brunch recipes from some of our favorite food blogs around the web. New recipes every Sunday, so that you’re ensured a gourmet weekend. Bon appetit!