its pressures of new projects had me hankering for a fresh vision of cooking breakfasts. Some years ago I made the switch to cooking breakfast six days out of seven because we could not afford the milk and cereal that was otherwise being consumed by the pre-teen boys. Not only due to the amount they wanted to consume but also due to that amount still not being enough to fill them up past an hour and a half.
The children needed eggs! bacon! pancakes! sausage! fruit! muffins! and the like! The like meant cooking.
I had a fairly good selection of breakfast recipes which we tucked into without much transition trouble. Several things could be done ahead of time as well, which always helps with the morning grumble.
I found a recipe for homemade doughnuts a while back and tried it for the first time this morning. It was not a success. The dough was uber sticky and even though I rolled it out on a floured counter, per instructions, the doughnut shapes did not lift up to make it into the hot oil with any triumph. Rather they stretched and tore and twisted themselves into odd shapes of confection. As they turned in the hot oil, I felt rather like a medieval torturer watching them writhe. And fry.
I gave up trying to make actual doughnuts with a hole in the middle and stuck to the holes part. The odd pieces of dough stayed just that---odd pieces of dough. Fried to a golden brown. Except for the ones that I burned black because I was busy fighting with the uber sticky dough. However, I reaffirmed the truth that cinnamon sugar and powdered sugar will make almost anything taste good.
The game at breakfast quickly became "Name Your Fried Dough Shape Before You Eat It." I heard wolverine, Nebraska, horseshoe, tibia, headless cougar, and a starfish with a missing arm as suggestions. Maybe homemade doughnuts are in my future, but it will have to be with a new recipe. I'll take suggestions.
Because the boys need doughnuts!