I was going to make beignets for Mardi Gras. Truly, I was. In fact, I even made a batch, but I just wasn’t blown away. At first I was confused and concerned. After all, I’ve heard over and over how wonderful beignets are. Then I remembered; I’m a cake doughnut kind of girl. I will almost always take a cake doughnut over a yeast doughnut. Beyond that, I will always choose an old fashioned doughnut over any other kind. So I threw caution to the wind and made old fashioned sour cream doughnuts for Mardi Gras.
Oh Christmas morning. When I was little, I used to sleep in my big brother’s room the night before Christmas. We’d wake up obscenely early and giggle and peer down the shadowy staircase; waiting for our parents to wake up. When our whispers started tending towards shrieks and tiptoes to the thumping of running back and forth between our rooms, my dad would blearily emerge from his room, wrapping his robe around him. We lived in Wisconsin, so things like robes and slippers were necessities. Mom and I waited upstairs while the boys went down to stoke the fire, make hot chocolate (and coffee) and get everything ready. And when I say “we waited upstairs,” I mean Mom took her
“So I bought a fryer the other day,” she admitted sheepishly, “just a little one. I promise.” In a time when everyone is trying to eat more healthfully, it seems a little decadent and impractical to buy a fryer. I mean, I’m on the try to be healthier bandwagon, I just don’t blog often about healthy stuff because it’s less fun. I felt oddly guilty about buying a fryer, like people were going to judge me and make comments about fried Oreos and such. But buy a fryer I did. In fact, I bought a little baby Cuisinart Fryer (it’s little and cute!).