It’s an off day for me today. I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather since Saturday, something brewing in my head, nose and chest to take the edge off my energy and smile.
Although today is a holiday, I’d planned to work. With rug school coming there’s lots to do and although it’s months away, there’s a lot of prep that goes into taking a shop to be a vendor at a school. So I was sitting here feeling lower than the bottom of a rock and decided to cheer myself up with a batch of freshly made doughnuts before whatever is brewing mutes my taste buds. I’m usually lucky, whatever invades my body tends to pull up states quickly, knock on wood, so I’m hoping for a speedy recovery. I made my magical chicken soup last evening (Shane swears it heals common ailments) and I was a bit better this morning after ten hours of sleep so hopefully I’m already on an upward swing. If doughnuts don’t cure me, I hope they don’t kill me, but what a way to go.....
We had a lovely omelette for brunch and then I whipped up a batch of dough immediately after. There’s no part of the process that isn’t exciting but of course tasting is the highlight and they were magnificent. I popped these cylindrical mounds of warm, crispy fried dough into my greedy mouth savouring the texture and flavour while memories transported me to my childhood.
I like mine plain but I dipped some in sugar and a combo of cinnamon and sugar to take to work tomorrow. I love them but can’t have them hanging around the house as I don’t have an off switch or willpower. Today’s indulgence is enough to last a while. During past doughnut parties I found the sugary coated ones get eaten first. I think perhaps my childhood memory of the plain ones that I lifted, I mean stole, well..helped myself too, from my granny’s pantry cemented them as the favourite and who am I to mess with a perfect memory. Papa must have been the happiest man alive because she loved him enough to keep that tin filled and he did his best to empty it.
So the inside of the house is now glazed with the sweet waft of doughnuts; nothing sticks like the aroma of deep fat frying. Our range hood doesn’t vent to the outside, there was only one place to put the stove against an opposite wall of the living room, and so all cooking odors are trapped inside the house. It lingers on every surface, the coats hung by the door and my hair, even the pups smell delicious. When we go upstairs we drag the smell with us to linger there, clinging to the bed sheets and towels. I’m not perturbed, there are definitely worse things than the smell of deep fat; I think of it as a hug, wrapping around me like a greasy security blanket. It comforts me, takes me back to my childhood and brings to the surface memories of my beloved nana and papa.....all good and tasty!
Although today is a holiday, I’d planned to work. With rug school coming there’s lots to do and although it’s months away, there’s a lot of prep that goes into taking a shop to be a vendor at a school. So I was sitting here feeling lower than the bottom of a rock and decided to cheer myself up with a batch of freshly made doughnuts before whatever is brewing mutes my taste buds. I’m usually lucky, whatever invades my body tends to pull up states quickly, knock on wood, so I’m hoping for a speedy recovery. I made my magical chicken soup last evening (Shane swears it heals common ailments) and I was a bit better this morning after ten hours of sleep so hopefully I’m already on an upward swing. If doughnuts don’t cure me, I hope they don’t kill me, but what a way to go.....
We had a lovely omelette for brunch and then I whipped up a batch of dough immediately after. There’s no part of the process that isn’t exciting but of course tasting is the highlight and they were magnificent. I popped these cylindrical mounds of warm, crispy fried dough into my greedy mouth savouring the texture and flavour while memories transported me to my childhood.
I like mine plain but I dipped some in sugar and a combo of cinnamon and sugar to take to work tomorrow. I love them but can’t have them hanging around the house as I don’t have an off switch or willpower. Today’s indulgence is enough to last a while. During past doughnut parties I found the sugary coated ones get eaten first. I think perhaps my childhood memory of the plain ones that I lifted, I mean stole, well..helped myself too, from my granny’s pantry cemented them as the favourite and who am I to mess with a perfect memory. Papa must have been the happiest man alive because she loved him enough to keep that tin filled and he did his best to empty it.
So the inside of the house is now glazed with the sweet waft of doughnuts; nothing sticks like the aroma of deep fat frying. Our range hood doesn’t vent to the outside, there was only one place to put the stove against an opposite wall of the living room, and so all cooking odors are trapped inside the house. It lingers on every surface, the coats hung by the door and my hair, even the pups smell delicious. When we go upstairs we drag the smell with us to linger there, clinging to the bed sheets and towels. I’m not perturbed, there are definitely worse things than the smell of deep fat; I think of it as a hug, wrapping around me like a greasy security blanket. It comforts me, takes me back to my childhood and brings to the surface memories of my beloved nana and papa.....all good and tasty!
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