Cinnamon Twists Better Than Donuts: Flaky, Irresistible Delight

My most unreasonable culinary hot take — besides the gospel truth that cold butter is life — is that Cinnamon Twists are objectively better than donuts. There, I said it. They flake, they crackle, they shimmy with cinnamon like a tiny pastry mariachi band in your mouth. If you’re emotionally ready for a breakfast that feels like a hug wrapped in a danish’s cousin’s leather jacket, read on. Also, if you’re allergic to commitment: these are quick. Like, Trader Joe’s-puff-pastry-in-15-minutes quick. (Yes, I judge you if you bring store-bought croissants to Thanksgiving but also I’ll secretly eat them.)

Confession: the time I tried to deep-fry my dignity (and failed spectacularly)

Okay, story time — pull up a chair, and maybe a towel. Once, I decided to deep-fry everything for a holiday brunch because “how hard can it be?” (Answer: very hard if you forget to set a timer and also think you can multitask with a toddler and three pies.) The smoke alarm staged a protest, the neighbor banged on the wall in solidarity with my kitchen, and my “donut experiment” ended in sooty holes that tasted like regret and cinnamon. Remember the lemon bars disaster of 2019? This ranked worse.

My aunt tried to comfort me with, “Emily, they taste like effort,” which was both true and devastating. After that, I vowed never to oil-fry my feelings again. Puff pastry saved me. It’s flaky, fast, and doesn’t require me to babysit boiling oil while I cry into a whisk.

Back to the good stuff: how Puff Pastry becomes magic (without oil drama)

ANYWAY, before I spiral into my kitchen’s trauma support group, here’s the actual pivot: puff pastry + butter + cinnamon = flaky Cinderella story. You bake them, not fry them, and they come out like tiny flaky torpedoes of joy. Also, if you want a morning that feels like a cozy indie movie sequence, try pairing with my favorite egg-free pancakes for a full spread egg-free pancake recipe that my roommate swears heals hangovers.

What you need (and my opinionated footnotes)

• 1 sheet Puff Pastry (Opt for pre-made puff pastry from the frozen section.)
• 2 tablespoons Butter (Melted; can substitute with margarine for a dairy-free option.)
• 1/4 cup Granulated Sugar (Can use coconut sugar for a less refined alternative.)
• 1 tablespoon Ground Cinnamon (Use freshly ground for better aroma.)
• 1 Egg (Optional; for egg wash.)
• 1 cup Powdered Sugar (Optional; can omit for less sweetness.)

Mini-rants: Yes, frozen puff pastry is cheating in the way that microwaving Thanksgiving mashed potatoes is sometimes necessary (don’t @ me). Trader Joe’s puff pastry is my default because it’s consistent and doesn’t judge me. If you want to go artisanal, buy local — but also, don’t bank your brunch reputation on flaky-butter roulette. Aldi has decent steals too.

Cooking Unit Converter (because ounces and cups drama is real)

If you measure in tears instead of tablespoons, this converter is your friend.

Technique that sounds like chaos but actually works

I am not a step-by-step dictator here; think of this as interpretive baking. Here’s what I’ve learned the hard way (through smoke alarms and burned fingers): roll gently, cut decisively, and don’t over-sugar your life.

Instructions

• Thaw the puff pastry until pliable but still cold (patience, not panic).
• Brush melted butter across the sheet like you mean it.
• Mix sugar and cinnamon and scatter lovingly over the buttered surface — don’t be stingy.
• Fold the sheet and roll lightly; cut into strips and twist with vim.
• Bake until gold and audibly triumphant (8–12 minutes at 400°F).
• Dust with powdered sugar or drizzle a light glaze if you’re feeling fancy.

Also: twist direction doesn’t matter. The universe is not judging. But preheat your oven — procrastination ruins pastries and also marriages.

Why this matters to me (and maybe to you too)

Food is punctuation in my family’s stories. Cinnamon aroma takes me back to a Thanksgiving where my cousin spilled cranberry sauce on the tablecloth and we all pretended it was “modern art.” Baking is tradition wearing comfortable shoes — it says I care, even when I text “be there in five” and mean “I’ll be there in 25.” Sharing a warm twist is like handing someone a tiny, buttery peace treaty. Also, I once brought these to a potluck and someone cried.

I also recommend variations if you want to go whole-hog into cinnamon romance — try pairing with a sourdough cinnamon roll vibe inspired by a friend’s starter sourdough cinnamon rolls, because carbs love carbs.

A tiny, ridiculous anecdote: the dog and the twist

The dog once stole a cinnamon twist off the cooling rack and pranced away like a furry bandit. I laughed, then took another bite because trauma eating is also a tradition. He still gets a crumb as reparations.

Frequently Asked Questions (chaotic but helpful)

Okay I’ll stop here before I start a band called “Pastry Confessions.” Make them, share them, judge my life choices later. If you bring these to a gathering, expect compliments, an inexplicable new friend, and someone asking for the recipe like it’s a family heirloom. If nothing else, you’ll have flaky evidence that you tried — and succeeded — at something beautiful this week.

Daily Calorie Needs Calculator:

Estimate how many calories your day needs so you can plan how many cinnamon twists are morally acceptable.