Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Lola's Donuts

One of the family recipes that I never was able to get was that of my lolas donuts. The donuts were round, the size of golf ball the exterior of the donut was dark drown and was covered with sugar. Breaking open the donut exposed an off-white almost yellow dough, a wonderful smell and I slight puff of steam would emanate from the donut if they had just come from the deep fryer. I have fond memories of these donuts, as they were an integral part of my childhood memories.
More often than not, I would be outside my lolo and lola’s house on 11th avenue. Most time playing with Hines and Deter, the German kids across the street or secretly looking at the Playboy magazine that my cousin Mark and I hid, something we were more curious about then stimulated by after all we were kids and girls were still somewhat icky and believe me I know icky I had five sisters well, four at that time.
It would be then I would hear my Lola’s voice call… Billlllll—lee, in the long drawn out manner I had accustomed my ears in hearing…. Billll-lee Doughhhh-Nuts… that’s all that I would need to here and I would stop doing whatever I was doing, even stop mid-stream in a sentence and run full bore as if I were Flash Gorden, for the house.
I’d climb the granite stairway to the house open and fly though the door and closing it all in the same motion, I’d run down the hall way and into the kitchen and there, yes there, on the square kitchen table a hot steaming batch of donuts would be stacked in a large bowl.
How excited I would be, feeling as though I could jump out of my own skin! DoNUTS!... donuts donuts donuts my brain would be screaming… I would grab one and bite it then while holding the rest between my teeth I would fill my pants pocket with as many as they could hold. You could see the grease from the donuts oozing though my jeans and the tell tale bumps of donuts within. I would run sort of stiff legged, so as not to crush the donuts I had stuffed into my pockets, down the hallway to the front door to go outside and enjoy. As I left the kitchen I can remember hearing my Lola laugh..

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