Fall Flavors!!!! (And smokey fumes... ahem)

Well. Let me begin by publicly rejoicing in the gorgeous autumn weather that has finally decided to splendidly descend upon Lil' ole Lynchburg! The sky has been amazing! (Look at the sky!!! Hahaha! Anyone remember that?) The trees are starting to turn, the breezes have the charged energy that only breezes bringing a change of season can possess, and the feelings of "homieness" evoked by this marvelous earth surrounding us has kindled "culinary creativity" in the hearts of many a kitchen-bound individual. Myself included...

Doughnuts.

What can be better in the warmth and coziness of fall, than homemade doughnuts? Well, there's pumpkin bread, warm, spiced drinks, and apple crumble. BUT, homemade doughnuts, with a sprinkling of powdery sugar, are certainly on my " Top 10 Fall Foods" list.

*Enter lofty culinary aspirations...*

It's Thursday morning, and I am feeling particularly festive after looking out the window at the incredibly vivid, blue sky and the deep blue/grey-bottomed and white-topped clouds traversing the freshly revealed heavens. Doughnuts. I shall make doughnuts. Flour, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon... Lovely! I set the dough to chill and set in the fridge. Aaaaaand forgot about it 'till the next day...

It's Friday. Once again, loftily inspired by the autumn beauty outdoors, I intended to begin my doughnut frying exhibition, on the double!

*Fast forward through a morning breakfast with a handful of law students at the weekly haunt, Cracker Barrel, and through a few animated stops at pet shops to check out potential "family extensions" in the form of a puppy or kitten.*

It's 7pm and we have just returned home after a "Meet and Greet" at Petsmart, where we were introduced to a few dogs, two older kittens and one puppy. 

It's time to get serious.

Before dinner and our furry meet and greet, I had rolled out the well-set dough (trying to fend of my dough-loving husband from eating it all) and inventively(there were a mason jar and empty wine bottle involved...) cut out the little O's that would soon be deeeeelicious fall snacks. (Or so I HOPED) "Heat the oil to 375 degrees and maintain a steady temperature". Right. My meat thermometer would have to do. I couldn't quite approximate the temperature of a vat of heating oil without an external aid...

Temperature is reached! So if the thermometer sky rockets into the 300's in a split second and then proceeds to flash rows of little X's at me, that means it's ready, right? Uh. Right.

No, my aspiring culinary artist. Not right.

I donned my "safety gear". To guard against unruly splashes or bubblings, or any other surprise attacks my "soon-to-be-delectable"project may be tempted to spring on me. Said "safety gear" consisted of long pants, an oversized hoodie (with ample hood to be appropriately tightened around my face) and oven mitts (sleeves tucked into these large mitts of course).

Now for the first batch.

I recruited Rome to document this "happening". Good decision.

DON'T CROWD THE FRYER!!!

Okaaaay, okaaaaay! First four O's of dough are slid into the aforementioned "vat" of boiling oil. (In retrospect, that oil DEFINITELY should not have been boiling... Live and learn)

Me: Aaaaaw! They're turning brown!! Look, look Rome! They're so cute! ... Oh. Oh! OOOOH NOOOO!!! They're turning black! Aaaaaah! Help, Heeelp, they're turning BLACK!! I didn't even flip them!!"

*At this time I am not ashamed to say I was agitatedly dancing around, much like a frog, and may or may not have been shrieking and squealing while running around looking for something to fish the steadily blackening "doughnuts" out of the boiling mess*

After the initial shock faded a bit (Rome was REALLY starting to enjoy his documentation job...) I finally laid hands on a plastic pasta scooper and without a thought, dunked it in the oil to try to rescue my poor "pilot batch". The rescue was successful! Well. By successful, I mean I triumphantly extricated the charred dough and avoided a stove-top oil fire... The "pilot batch" was a complete, I mean COMPLETE, fail.

By this time our apartment was filled with questionable fumes. Not at all in keeping with my "Festive Fall Flavors" motif...

Take two.

In all the hustle and bustle of what I have now come to refer to as the "pilot batch crisis", the pot of bubbling oil was moved to a cold burner and the temperature cooled considerably while I carried out my "plunge and rescue" mission (and completed my flustered dance of panic).

Doughnuts= charred beyond repair or recognition, but rescued.

Instrument of Rescue (here I turn your attention back to said plastic pasta scooper)= mangled and melted

Culinary Contestant= Thoroughly dismayed, yet not defeated!

Round two was significantly more successful and resulted in doughnuts of a much pleasanter hue and aroma. VICTORY! Being careful not to "crowd the fryer" I loaded many more batches of successful edible rings in and out of the sizzling pot that evening. And surprisingly, no more crises arose!

Until my next Kitchen Adventure!!