Mr. Smith and the Puddin' Donuts: A tragedy

As you may already know, Mr. Smith is a lover of chocolate. He is especially fond of chocolate breakfast items (Devil's Food Cake Doughnuts, Chocolate Croissants, Chocolate Cheerios, etc.)

The first time we traveled to the East (as in coast, not the Middle East or anything) he became a frequent flier at a certain Dunkin' Donuts in the great (and now snowy) state of Maryland.

Now it needs to be said that we do not have Dunkin' Donuts in our part of the world. Southern California is too snotty and pretentious for such things. Nope, we have Krispy Kreme*, and Winchell's and the like, but nothing quite the same.

Mr. Smith discovered the culinary innovation of a Chocolate Pudding-filled doughnut. These are heavily dusted with confectioner's sugar, so it masquerades as a jelly doughnut, but in the end, much tastier because it delivers the delectable treat of chocolate pudding for breakfast. What more could a chocoholic ask for in a doughnut, right?

Mr. Smith waxed poetic about these donuts for months. He tried to figure out ways to get me to agree to move (for at least several months each year) closer to the source of these donuts. Knowing what special hell winter can be in the Eastern states, I declined.

He persisted in his quest for said donuts. He even chased the dragon while we were in the mythical land of Waverly, New York, but there were none to be had. Total heartbreak.

At one point, Mema (my aunt and surrogate grandmother to our children due to the untimely firing of my mother-in-law from the position of grandmother), had discovered an alternate source in her neck of the woods. She even was working on a plan that involved Fed Ex-ing (is that a verb now?) a dozen of these sweet concoctions right to our doorstep.

Before the mission could be completed, however, Dunkin' Donuts saw fit to discontinue these particular doughnuts. Perhaps because the main consumer of this item lived on the West Coast? You tell me.

Each trip Mr. Smith has hilarious misadventures while finding and procuring these objects of his love. He requests them from the non-English-speaking personnel of the local Dunkin' Donuts, but they choose to fill his orange box with a mixture of pudding and jelly doughnuts instead. Joke is on the American.

Alas, it appears that Mr. Smith was not meant to be with his little powdered loves. Instead he is destined to savor the memory of their brief romance. Better to have loved and lost than never to have had the doughnuts in the first place, or something like that.


Pioneer Woman posted a recipe for Raised Doughnuts. Her recipe was for simple glazed doughnuts, poetic in its simplicity. It occurred to me that I might be able to MAKE the doughnuts that Mr. Smith has been longing for all these months.

After a brief pow wow, it was agreed that he would prefer the doughnuts filled with chocolate pudding and frosted with chocolate glaze. (More about Mr. Smith's culinary leanings in another post.)

For the frosted glaze, against my better judgment, I turned to my nemesis, Alton Brown. Mr. Smith and Grand Master H are extremely fond of his doughnut-themed episode. I won't be nasty about this, but if memory serves, it involved a puppet. I have a problem with any cooking show that involved puppetry. I am sorry, but Julia Child is probably rolling over in her watery (Neptune Society Member) grave every time he whips out a sock puppet!

 These are a real time investment and require some planning. You need to make room for a big bowl in your fridge (that is difficult around here). Also, the dough is made a day ahead and cooked the following day, in hot oil. Try not to freak out about this as much as I do. The source of my fear is my mother (terrified of hot oil) and The Churro Incident of the early '80s. A girl living in Western Pennsylvania has NO business trying to make churros. None at all. Hence the burns on my neck from the ill-conceived attempt to do just that! I'm just saying!

 A satisfied customer

Anyway, the results were mediocre (as far as the demanding Mr. Smith was concerned). The pudding (Trader Joe's Chocolate Pudding) was too rich. I will have to go back to the drawing board on that one. Grand Master H liked them. He pretty much just eats the glaze and leaves the doughnut, so he was happy with the results.

The evidence

So, if you have a few days to kill and you aren't deathly afraid of frying stuff, here is all the info:

INGREDIENTS
 
DONUTS


1-⅛ cup Whole Milk, Warm
¼ cups Sugar
2-¼ teaspoons (one Package) Instant Or Active Dry Yeast
2 whole Large Eggs, Beaten
1-¼ stick Unsalted Butter, melted
4 cups All-purpose Flour
¼ teaspoons Salt
Canola Oil

GLAZE
3 cups Powdered Sugar
½ teaspoons Salt
½ teaspoons Vanilla
½ cups Cold Water Or Milk

Preparation Instructions

To Make the Dough:

1. Make sure milk is nice and warm, but not overly hot.
2. Add sugar to milk. Stir to dissolve.
3. Add yeast into a small bowl.
4. Pour milk/sugar mixture over yeast. Stir gently, then let sit for 10 minutes.
5. Melt butter in separate bowl until butter is almost melted. Stir to finish melting so butter won’t be overly hot.
6. Add beaten eggs to melted butter, stirring constantly to make sure the butter’s not too hot for the eggs.
7. Add the egg/butter mixture to the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the dough hook.
8. With the mixer on 3 or medium-low speed, pour in the yeast mixture.
9. Allow the dough hook to stir this mixture for a couple of minutes, making sure it’s thoroughly combined.
10. With the mixer still going, add helpings of the flour mixture in 1/4 to 1/2 cup increments until all the flour is gone.
11. Stop the mixer, scrape the bowl, then turn the mixer on the same speed for five whole minutes.
12. After five minutes, stop the mixer and scrape the bottom of the bowl.
13. Turn on the mixer for 30 seconds.
14. Turn off the mixer and allow the dough to sit in the bowl undisturbed for 10 minutes.
15. After 10 minutes, transfer dough to a lightly oiled bowl. Toss the dough to coat, then cover the bowl with plastic wrap and place straight in the fridge.
16. Refrigerate dough for at least 8 hours, or overnight.

To Make the Doughnuts:

1. Remove bowl from fridge and turn out dough onto a lightly floured surface.
2. Roll out to 1/4 to 1/3-inch thickness.
3. Using a 3-inch cutter, cut as many rounds as you can, then roll out remaining dough and cut as much as you can, etc.
4. Cut holes out of each round using a 1 1/2-inch cutter.
5. Place both doughnuts and holes on a floured baking sheet.
6. Cover with large tea towel and place in a warm place in your kitchen; my kitchen is very drafty, so I have to briefly warm the griddle, then turn it off and set the sheets on top to keep warm.
7. Allow doughnuts to rise undisturbed for at least 1 hour; 1 hour 15 minutes if necessary. Doughuts should be visibly puffier and appear to be airy.

 Doughnuts rising under nifty heat lamps

To Fry the Doughnuts

1. Heat plenty of canola oil in a large pot until the temperature reaches 375 to 380 degrees—do not let it get hotter than 380 degrees! 375 is ideal; keep the thermometer in the pan to continually monitor.
2. One to two at a time, gently grab doughnuts and ease them into the hot oil. Allow them to cook 1 minute on each side; they will brown very quickly.
3. Remove doughnuts from the oil with a slotted spoon, allowing all oil to drip off.
4. Place doughnut immediately on several layers of paper towels. Count to five, then flip it over onto a clean part of the paper towels. Count to five, then flip it over again; the purpose, obviously, is to drain as much grease as possible before it soaks into the doughnut.
5. Repeat with remaining doughnuts and holes. The holes will cook more quickly than the doughnuts; about 30 seconds per side.
6. Allow doughnuts to slightly cool.

To Glaze

1. Mix all glaze ingredients in a bowl until completely smooth.
2. One by one, dip doughnuts into the glaze until halfway submerged. (Note: completely submerge doughnut holes, then remove with slotted spoon.)
4. Remove from glaze, then turn right side up on a cooling rack over a cookie sheet (to catch dripping glaze.)
5. Serve warm if possible, or room temperature.


If you are partial to chocolate glaze, you can use Alton Brown's recipe for Chocolate Glaze. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you don't.

In the meantime, we will still have to travel to acquire doughnuts for Mr. Smith. Pray for us all!


*BTW, did anyone know that THIS was going on at Krispy Kreme? Mr. Smith just ran out the front door!

Post edit: S'mores doughnut was good, but the other new flavors? Krispy Kreme fail!

The Last First Date

Today is the anniversary of the last first date I will ever go on, forever and ever. Amen.

The week after I called Mr. Smith was one of the longest weeks of my life. I felt nauseated the entire seven days. I could not sleep. I could not think straight. I was exhausted and sick. I was losing weight (awesome!), but felt like hell (not as awesome!).

From the moment we hung up on that Friday evening until after close of business the following Friday, there was absolutely no mention of our conversation or our imminent date. I had almost decided that it was a dream or a joke. A very very sad April Fool's Joke...on me!

As 5:30 pm got closer, I got more and more panicked. People were making their exits, saying goodbye, wishing each other good weekends. Silence from Mr. Smith. Deafening, scary, silence. Who would be the first to say something? Would anyone say anything? Was this some dating game? I SUCK at dating games!

The last person to leave was Sweet Sarah, the receptionist. That would leave Mr. Smith and myself. I said goodnight to Sweet Sarah and waited. I was pretending to work while trying not to puke into my garbage can.

Suddenly, I got an instant message.

"Want to go get a drink?"

My heart started racing. I can only imagine what my blood pressure might have been.

"Sure."

We drove in our respective cars to The National Sports Bar. It was close and low-key and there was little chance of us running into pesky co-workers. We didn't park together and I got out of my car first. When Mr. Smith got out of his car, he was on the phone. As he walked toward me, he mouthed, "Mr. Boss."

Yikes, he was on the phone with our loathsome boss. Our meddlesome, intrusive, self-absorbed, childish boss. I stayed quiet so Mr. Boss would be none the wiser.

If this went further than one date, there was no way in hell Mr. Boss and his horrible wife, Mrs. Boss could ever know about it. I would never give The Couple Most Likely to Bring Inappropriate Gifts for Employees Back from the Porn Show access to my personal life.

It was a warm Spring night. We chose an outside table. We ordered drinks and dinner. I ordered a Chicken Caesar Salad and had to practically choke it down. See the recipe below for a better alternative to the usual chicken marinade.

We talked for hours. I don't remember a single thing we talked about.

I remember that it was easy. I remember my nervousness ebbing away. I didn't feel that jittery, first date frenzy that I usually felt. I felt more comfortable with Mr. Smith than I ever have with anyone. I knew I could tell him anything and he would get it.

I knew he got me.

He got me in a way that no one has ever gotten me in my entire life.

It was getting late and it was time to head home. He walked me to my car. Neither one of us wanted to leave, so we kept talking, trying to say goodbye.

And then...he leaned over and kissed me.

I don't remember too much after that kiss. Oh, that kiss. That is one of the greatest kisses EVER. You know the scene in The Princess Bride. The grandfather talks about the greatest kisses of all time? Add that one to the list. Seriously.

I vaguely remember getting in my car. I am not completely sure that I said goodnight. I am not sure I said anything. I just know I was in my car and I was pulling out of the parking lot and I had no idea where I was going. I was headed home, but I had no clue where that was or how to get there.

I got on the freeway going North and I needed to be heading South. I got back off the freeway and eventually made my way back to the on-ramp. Again, I got on going North. I got back off the freeway yet again, got lost for about 15 minutes, and eventually found my way back to the freeway. Once again, I got on going North. Once again, I got off the freeway and got lost in a business park for another 15 minutes.

By this time, Mr. Smith was on the phone and was insisting that he should come and get me. Naturally, I refused and just kept getting lost over and over again, making a complete ass of myself.

At long last, after a total of about 45 minutes, I got on the freeway going South and was able to negotiate my way home from that point.

The moment he kissed me, I knew. I knew we would be together for the rest of our lives. I knew we would get married, and have children, and be unbelievably happy together. From that moment on, all the rest of it, everything else, became background noise.

I was a cynical person. I had become bitter and sure that I would never find the man that I was looking for. I had closed myself off to avoid being hurt ever again. I was determined not to be hurt by a man every again.

For some reason, I and I will never be sure why, I found the courage to open myself up to this man.

By giving up my cynicism, and allowing this to happen, I have been rewarded with a love that completely obliterates all the hurt and pain. It has erased any trace of loneliness. This love that is so much bigger and more powerful than any bad relationship has made my life something I never thought it could be.

Every single day I get to wake up with my darling Mr. Smith. I feel luckier than a lottery winner. I am happier than a kid on Christmas morning.

Every day I get to see these little faces.

Now I get to be a wife and a mother. I get to experience all the joy and wonder that comes with being cherished by a man and my children.

I have finally found The Big Love...a gift that will never stop giving.

Papa Doty with Famous Baby C

September 13, 2008

On an unrelated note, my beloved Papa Doty would have been 90 years old today. I still miss and think of him every day. He gave the best bear hugs and I making sure to teach that to my children. When I said goodbye to him the last time, he was chuckling at me and my crazy life. I cried that night because I knew that would be the last time I would see him. But, I will carry that chuckle and the image of him holding my baby daughter, in my heart for the rest of my life.



The Best Chicken Marinade

1/2 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tsp. thyme (fresh or dry, use what you have)
4 cloves minced garlic

Add ingredients to large ziploc bag.  Squish it around to mix the marinade. Add chicken. I usually put the bag in a glass bowl, just to be safe. I let the meat marinate for several hours.

When you are ready to cook it, just arrange the chicken on the broiler pan, pour the marinade over it. I bake it at 375° for about 40 minutes (time may vary depending on thickness of chicken).

I serve this with Mixed Baby Greens and some shredded parmesan. Add some Balsamic Dressing and you have yourself a dinner.

Of Cupcakes and The Big Love

I have never been a big fan of Valentine's Day. It just sets you up for all kinds of trouble. Okay, it sets me up for all kinds of trouble. I have heard tales (probably urban legends) of other people who can navigate the day without incident. Unfortunately, that is not me.

The days when I was dating/living with The Dead End Guy were the worst Valentine's Day experiences. My favorite was the year I made him peanut butter fudge and he informed me (after opening it) that I should not expect any gifts or cards from him because he was really busy. Gotta love that kind of heart-felt sentiment.

In 2005 everything changed. Now I feel like (and believe me, I know how gross this sounds. It even makes me want to puke) every single day is Valentine's Day, but even better.

I met Mr. Smith and he swept me away. When we went on our first date and he kissed me goodnight, that was it for me. I knew from that moment we would get married and we would have children together and our life would be a wonderful, exciting adventure. We had, after almost 39 years, finally found each other.

I got lost for about 45 minutes in an area I know fairly well. I got on the freeway, going North instead of South...three times. It was like I had been hit by a bus. I didn't see it coming and it just hit like a sudden storm.

Oh boy has it been an adventure! Two children under four, a whopper of a lawsuit, a new business, so much love and so much laughter.

Every day when I get to wake up with this man, it is like Christmas, even when we wake up at 3 am. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I think Christmas (not because of the presents) is far better than Valentine's Day.

I still get butterflies when I hear him open the front door. He makes me laugh harder than any other human being on the planet. He smiles and it is like the sun broke through the clouds.

I am the luckiest woman in the world and I am thankful every single day that I found what everyone looks for in a mate. I found a soul mate. I never believed that such a person existed. Every day, every single day, I am surprised and amazed that this has happened to me and to us.

Now I have Batman and Robin running around with sunglasses, masks and capes. I have a crazy dog racing around the backyard barking at nothing. I get to live the life I used to only dream about.

This week I made these cupcakes for Mr. Smith. My Mr. Smith. He is a tough audience. A self-described picky eater, he is hard to please.

Smitten Kitchen gets a win for this one.

I only made one small adjustment. Instead of mint (because I have a long, checkered history with Peppermint Schnapps that prevents me from making mint-flavored anything without gagging, which almost inevitably leads to dry heaves, or not so dry heaves. Sorry, but it is the truth.) I added 1/8 teaspoon of cinnamon. It gives just a hint of cinnamon and is just wonderful with the chocolate. If that doesn't do it for you, stick with the mint. I won't think any less of you.

Sauce in a Flash

Back in the day, the Pittsburgh days, I was living with The Dead End Guy. After numerous, extended explosive break-ups, getting-back-togethers, epic battles and absurd negotiations, we moved into a two bedroom apartment. As I look back on this (a good 19 years later), it was not the smartest thing I have ever done.

We were unhappy almost immediately. At least I was.

I remember having a huge argument the day we moved in and wanting to leave right then.

I wanted something more. I knew that much. I just wasn't mature enough to figure out that he was not the man (hell, he wasn't even a damn man, let's face it, he was a boy...probably still is) that was capable of giving me what I wanted or needed.

For a period of time after I graduated from college and was looking desperately for employment when there was none to be had, I played at being a housewife. I wanted that, I wanted to be the perfect little wife, waiting with a delicious hot meal when he got home from class.

I very diligently made meal plans, shopped for ingredients, chopped, cooked, and cleaned. I was play-acting at being a wife, the thing I so desperately wanted. Even though, deep down, I could never envision us being married, let alone happily married.

I would ask him what he would like (this recipe was a real favorite) and then dutifully make it. Hoping that at some dream-like point, he would notice how wonderful I was and realize that he wanted me.

He never did.

This worked for a little over a year. I played this little game that there was something I could do, some meal I could conjure up, something I could wear that would please him enough.

He found someone else he had more in common with, and he eventually, ironically, married.

It was really really hard to realize that the time I had spent trying so damn hard to make him love me had been completely wasted. I should have had the good sense to let go, to let him go, to let the non-relationship go, years and years before I did.

Then, after a really long time...and I am talking about a really long time, I met this guy. He was handsome and sweet. He seemed to like me just like I am (miracle!) so I married his butt as fast as I possibly could!

He likes what I cook. He likes that I cook. He didn't care that I could hardly cook during both pregnancies. He appreciates that I try new recipes and (as long as I don't add nuts) is willing to try the things I am experimenting with.

All that time, all those years...they weren't wasted. It was just training for the real thing. Now I really know how to be a good wife, for real. But more importantly, I know how to accept the unconditional love that is given. No questions asked, no strings attached, just love. No more pretending, no more begging to be noticed and accepted.

Either way, the pasta sauce is wonderful...whether you are serving it to The Dead End Guy or Mr. Smith, although for Mr. Smith, I skip the mushrooms. It is the least I can do.


Sauce in a Flash

3 cloves garlic
1 medium onion, diced
1/4 lb. mushrooms, sliced
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 lb. lean meat
1 can (28 ozs.) crushed tomatoes
1 bay leaf
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh oregano, or 3/4 teaspoon dry oregano
1 tsp. sugar
3/4 tsp. salt
1 jar (7 ozs.) roasted red pepper or pimento, drained or diced
1/3 cup chopped parsley
1/4 cup loosely packed basil leaves, shredded or 1 tablespoon dry basil
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper

Brown the meat in a skillet. Drain it if you want to, heck, you can even rinse the fat off of it in a colander. I don't because I don't like getting fat in my colander, but that is just me.

After the meat is cooked, just add the rest of the ingredients, mix well and heat through.

Serve with your favorite pasta shape and enjoy!