D-I-Y DOUGHNUTS
Brits and country-fair attendees may believe otherwise, but not all things are better fried. This includes pig parts, most chicken and half the other stuff restaurants are passing off as upscale, down-home, heart-attack-inducing recession fare (though not you David Chang, I'm sure your fried chicken is unreal).
Everyone knows a bad fry-job. The batter paves your stomach, the grease lingers on the tongue. Yet a fried tidbit can also be a thing of beauty, and a perfectly fried doughbit the best of all. Both flavour and texture can be elevated by a dip in the hot-oil jacuzzi.
My explorations began with Hanukkah, that Old Testament fry-fest. One month into my fry-based experimentations, I'm fairly sure that there is nothing quite like a homemade doughnut. The house smells like a carnival. The doughnuts are eaten piping hot, crunchy on the outside, sweet and bubbly on the inside, with a slight yeasty chew. (On this recipe I boost the nutmeg and add orange zest for extra oomph.) Second bite reveals a spurt of jam, bite three a proper powdered-sugar moustache. It inevitably takes you back to your first fried-dough experience (1995, Dunkin' Donuts, Penn Station, school trip, French cruller).
They are, of course, bad for you. Devoid of nutritional value, their airy structure prevents healthful additions (though it shouldn't be long before a pomegranate-flax doughnut fried in fish oil rears its bastard head). Michael Pollan, when not writing the
The mess (and fiery perils) of frying up your own doughnuts should keep binges on the wane. And yet devoted doughnut eaters should beware: they really aren't hard to make.
Picture Credit:: Burger Baroness (via Flickr)


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