“Remoted” – Day 97 (Sunday)

Today I did something I’ve thought about for a long time (as in, a period of many years). It was partly an attempt to recreate a childhood memory, partly an exercise in curiosity. This morning I tackled the family recipe for doughnuts. Mom and I are not solid on the origination of the recipe, but she thinks it was from her Aunt Julia who gave it to Mummu. 

When I was a kid, Mummu sometimes made doughnuts on her massive Roper Deluxe stove. I remember anxiously waiting to taste the fried deliciousness. I’d get to eat some of them at her house, and she’d give me a brown paper bag of crispy coated heaven to take home to the rest of the family.

I’ve had the handwritten recipe card titled “Doughnuts” for as long as I can remember. The recipe starts in blue ink in my Mom’s handwriting, then switches to pencil in my writing and I have no idea how this card came to be. In my (obviously incorrect) memory the recipe was written in Mummu’s perfect Palmer Method penmanship.

When I first moved back from Tennessee, I bought a doughnut cutter at a church rummage sale in preparation for the day I would make the doughnuts. It’s taken six or seven years, but that day was finally today. In the lead up to today, there was research. The recipe says “oil” but not what kind. I learned from various online sources that vegetable oil doesn’t provide as much crisp as Canola oil, which was recommended by several sources. Canola oil was not the kind in the cabinet and was the impetus for the trip to Family Dollar on Saturday.

At 8:00 this morning I was pulling ingredients from the cabinets and mixing dough according to slightly vague directions that included “As much flour as is needed (about four cups).” Needed for what, exactly? There was no elaboration. I used four cups and wasn’t fully convinced it was enough, but I didn’t want it to be too dry or get tough. Then the dough had to chill for two hours so I watched a movie and played Candy Crush.

It was Internet research that filled me in on “hot” oil and specified 375 degrees. I also learned how to gauge the temperature without a thermometer, which involves putting the handle of a wooden spoon in the oil. If bubbles form around the handle, the oil is the right temperature for frying the doughnuts.

Doughnuts! And holes!

The first fry had one doughnut which did not come out of the oil “golden brown.” It was anemic. The heat was turned up a bit. The next one came out golden, so it was time to go all out and put in three at a time, which is all the kettle could hold. It took a while to fry a couple dozen doughnuts plus holes. The later ones came out deformed and flatter, which I concluded was because the dough had warmed up too much. Plus the adventurous aspect had waned and I just wanted to be done. The kitchen was a mess with flour everywhere and about 1,000 messy dishes and utensils to be cleaned. And I accidentally burned a finger when it landed directly in the hot oil while putting in a raw dough circle by hand instead of using the spatula like I had been doing when it was still fun and I was still paying attention.

Overall, it was a sort-of success and I learned a few things (keep the dough cool, don’t let your finger land in hot oil). The flavor is familiar, but mine didn’t come out as tall or as crispy as I remembered. This could be because I don’t know what oil Mummu fried hers in and I think I rolled my dough too thin. I brought some over to Mom and Butch and they liked them, so that was good. She and Butch said the style is “Finnish doughnuts.” Next time, I need to conquer the crispiness.