This is the story of a boy and his lifelong dedication to carbs. And by a boy I mean me, and by carbs I mean a herculean-sized cinnamon roll, the kind that elicits visions of a heavenly but mysterious ray of light that emerges out of an unknown divine source accompanied by a critically judgmental choir of angelic voices. Well, somewhat naughty angels whose foodie habits extend beyond bagels and light Philly cream cheese.

Instead of being covered in dainty leftover crumbs, we are talking about sugary gooey goodness stuck under your fingernails begging to be sucked seductively, by yourself that is. “Sinfull.”

What began as an innocent tweet announcing a batch of vegan cinnamon rolls with local pecans on their pilgrimage to Georgia’s Farm to Market near the Katy Freeway and Dairy Ashford, Houstonian Brittany Carnes, owner of vegan mostly local new-kid-on-the-block Sinfull Bakery, gastronomically teased me into committing an impulsive act of foodie debauchery: What usually takes four plus people to eat and share was selfishly devoured in record time by yours truly.

My first encounter with Sinfull Bakery’s Texas-sized delicacies was during a routine trip to Urban Harvest Farmer’s Market at Eastside on a steamy and uncomfortable Saturday morning. While filling my reusable shopping tote with savory kale, fragrant basil, local pears, ripe figs and Pat Greer’s kombucha, a carb-happy spread of baked goods violated my peripheral vision and hypnotically allured me to say hello.

I had heard rumors of new vegan bakers in town who preferred organic to conventional, who thrived on using mostly local ingredients and who also offered sugar-free and gluten-free creations.

“I’m supposed to meet you,” I told Brittany.

In the hustle and bustle of the morning market, I failed to hone in on her story as my eyes were feasting on the foodie cornucopia selfishly monopolizing my attention.

Adding to my healthy produce, a farmer’s market kolache filled with organic veggies made it home with me, along with some double chocolate cookies and a pumpkin and cream cheese loaf. Right as I was about to leave, an additional traditional Czech-style strawberry cream cheese kolache with local figs mysteriously found itself in my company.

I was a happy boy.

After my cinnamon roll encounter, I wondered if Brittany would be so gracious as to show me how these are made. "These are not for the faint at heart,” she explained. “I’d love to see you try.”

Working in a shared commercial kitchen off 610 West Loop and Bellaire, Sinfull Bakery’s myriad of products come from a seemingly small but passionate operation. Although future plans include a storefront, Sinfull goods can be found at Georgia's Farm to Market, Taft Street Coffee house, Urban Harvest Farmer's Market at Eastside and the Farmers Market at LaCenterra at Cinco Ranch in Katy.

Starting a business is also not for the faint at heart. The idea of Sinfull Bakery started as a life interruption in between Carnes's college and graduate school journey. A two-year break filled with volunteering and environmental work was to be followed by course work to become a therapist.

But like most with a entrepreneurial spirit, passion career changes often force sharp turns. After squeezing herself into an internship at a well known vegan bakery in Portland, Carnes packed her bags, and moved back to Houston.

Sinfull Bakery started with the perfect oatmeal raisin cookie, and now offers dozens of different products. Whole Foods on Kirby, Sugar Land, Woodway, Wilcrest and Bellaire are carrying an array of Sinfull's muffins along with wheat-free and original cookie packages, wheat-free and original mini loaves, and jumbo sweet kolaches such as pumpkin pie, strawberry jam and cream cheese, and apple butter.

Yes. Houston is a great place to start a business. Even a vegan one for that matter.

“Taste this,” Brittany says as I walk in the kitchen. A dry erase board is filled with a melange of quirky inspirational and smart-ass quotes like “Don’t touch hot things” and “If it wasn’t scary, it wouldn’t be exciting.”

I am fed a spoonful of a poppy seed jam. A new concoction for the next round of jumbo Czech kolaches, the filling changes frequently and strives to feature seasonal flavors. Subtly sweet with a playful texture, the poppy seeds remind me of the all-so-popular hamentashen. Will I get high? It’s going to be a good day.

While getting a tour of the kitchen and pantry, I am introduced to David Stiles aka "cinnamon roll man" and Papa Sinfull, Raina Willick aka "kolache queen" and Craig Vanis, aka "stud muffin," and Carnes's father, Nick.

“Joel is here to make cinnamon rolls,” Brittany tells the crew.

I get a "you-poor-soul" look from Raina while David flashes me an evil good luck smile. What could be so difficult about rolling cinnamon rolls?

I am handed a rolling pin and given instructions. There is a lot of dough. And that a-lot-of-dough needs to be stretched into an even tablecloth size spread over two stainless steel tables, by myself and by feel, touch and intuition.

I get it.

Towering at over 6-feet tall, David’s build makes rolling a simple everyday task. For my stocky 5’6” frame, I am challenged to find different angles to coach the dough into submission. And after two bottles of water, breaking a sweat and a slight break, I am successful. Sort of.

Except my rectangle is not perfect. Some peninsula-like protrusions laugh audibly at me.

“Not bad for a first try,” Brittany says.

Brushing the vegan butter is an artful task enhanced by swift and flamboyant wrist movements. But nothing compares to the feeling of spreading the sugar, cinnamon and rum-soaked-raisin mixture with my bare hands. I, again, feel like licking myself.

Rolling the monster becomes a rather hilarious task when I realize my newly washed hands are too small. A little roll here and another there turn into a rhythmic pattern. If only we had a disco ball and a strobe light.

Using thumbs as a guide, I get about nine rolls that need to rise and then bake for a few.

While baking, Raina and I share kolache flavor ideas. Dulce de leche? A patriotic red white and blue kolache with blueberry, raspberry and cream filling? Tiramisu? Time flies when you are talking food.

I smell freshly baked cinnamon rolls and I realize I have yet another carby frenemy. Warm and right out of the oven, we moisten the top, playfully and somewhat naughtily, with icing. Carnes critiques my first creation and we dig in.

Brittany likes the middle. I like the sugary caramelized bottom. I made a new friend.

As I leave, I take an extra one to share with my better half. Sadly, it didn’t make it home. Only god knows where it ended up.

See new baker Joel Luks at work: