When presented with last month’s Daring Baker challenge, I had a decision to make: I could make sticky buns or I could make cinnamon buns. For most people this wouldn’t have been a big deal, just pick one and make it and you’re done. But I suffer from decidophobia, the fear of making decisions. This makes the simple task of choosing one recipe over the other extremely difficult. I would have rather been told which recipe to make and therefore avoiding any decisions whatsoever. Eventually though, because each Daring Baker challenge has a deadline, I ran out of time and hastily chose to make the cinnamon buns. Shortly after the decision had been made and so had the cinnabuns, the aftereffects began to set in. You see, whenever I finally make a decision, I then find out all that is wrong with that choice and how much better the alternative would have been. In the case of the cinnamon buns, they were good, (well, at least the four I managed to save from the fiery pit of death that is my oven were good) but when I saw the sticky buns everyone else had baked, I began to doubt my decision. Clearly the sticky buns would have been the superior choice. Everyone raved about them and how delicious they were and here I had chosen to make the cinnamon buns. Curses! Foiled again!
So my brain’s been in sticky mode ever since. I keep thinking about how I should have made sticky buns. I should have done a lot of things. Instead I tried to think of other things, to distract myself from the sticky buns. Eventually I realized that this was one of the rare times that my original decision didn’t prevent me from making the second one as well. Nothing was stopping me from making sticky buns except my own stupidity. What’s more, Dorie has a recipe for sticky buns that I’ve been drooling over since December. If that wasn’t a sign for me to make them, I don’t know what is.
And wouldn’t you know it? Dorie’s Pecan Sticky Buns were definitely better than my burnt cinnamon buns. They were ooey and gooey and sticky and wonderful, everything they should have been. It makes me think I should adopt a George Costanza like philosophy, like in the classic Seinfeld episode where George realizes that his instincts are fundamentally wrong, and vows to "do the opposite":
George: Elaine, bald men, with no jobs, and no money, who live with their parents, don't approach strange women.
Jerry: Well here's your chance to try the opposite. Instead of tuna salad and being intimidated by women, chicken salad and going right up to them.
George: Yeah, I should do the opposite, I should.
Jerry: If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right.
George: Yes, I will do the opposite. I used to sit here and do nothing, and regret it for the rest of the day, so now I will do the opposite, and I will do something!