Doughnut Day!!!
Yippeee!! Today is Doughnut Day!! Mmmmmmmmmmmm Yummy Doughnuts! What is Doughnut Day? OK, bear in mind, I'm giving you the version that I know. Doughnut day is a tradition in the Pennsylvania Dutch areas I grew up in. I don't know how much further outside of Northeast Pennylvania the tradition stretches. Doughnut day always falls on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. The Pennsylvania Dutch made tons of Faustnachts (Potato Doughnuts) to gorge themselves on before they had to behave and cut out sweets for the Lenten season.
I can remember the house would smell wonderful in the mornings on Doughnut day. My mother would be awake long before my brother and I, cutting and frying. Her faustnachts are not round doughnuts with a hole in them, but square or diamond shape with a slit cut in the center. They are then fried crispy in oil. No sugar or fancy toppings. She was always sure to make a couple "special" ones for me. She called them "Turtles," as did her mother before her. I don't know why, they were only a long rolled fat string tied in a knot and then fried, they didn't look anything like a turtle. But, they were made special for me, and there were only ever a few of them.
My mother was well known in town for her faustnachts and she made dozens and dozens every year. Before my father died, he helped her and they would take orders and sell them, so great was the demand. The most she made on any one Doughnut day was 147 dozen.
I miss waking up to the smell now that I have my own house and family. But, I doubt I will ever take up the reins of making the faustnachts. So, today on Doughnut Day, I loaded my son on the school bus, and packed Stacie into the van and headed to my Mother's house. As soon as I pulled up in front of the house, I could smell the faustnachts even on the street. They were still warm and crispy. It's not the same as when I was at home, though.
I've been married for 13 years now and it really shouldn't be a big deal. But, I was still sad. I won't say anything to my Mom though. This was the first year there was no Turtle for me.
Marriage is love.
I can remember the house would smell wonderful in the mornings on Doughnut day. My mother would be awake long before my brother and I, cutting and frying. Her faustnachts are not round doughnuts with a hole in them, but square or diamond shape with a slit cut in the center. They are then fried crispy in oil. No sugar or fancy toppings. She was always sure to make a couple "special" ones for me. She called them "Turtles," as did her mother before her. I don't know why, they were only a long rolled fat string tied in a knot and then fried, they didn't look anything like a turtle. But, they were made special for me, and there were only ever a few of them.
My mother was well known in town for her faustnachts and she made dozens and dozens every year. Before my father died, he helped her and they would take orders and sell them, so great was the demand. The most she made on any one Doughnut day was 147 dozen.
I miss waking up to the smell now that I have my own house and family. But, I doubt I will ever take up the reins of making the faustnachts. So, today on Doughnut Day, I loaded my son on the school bus, and packed Stacie into the van and headed to my Mother's house. As soon as I pulled up in front of the house, I could smell the faustnachts even on the street. They were still warm and crispy. It's not the same as when I was at home, though.
I've been married for 13 years now and it really shouldn't be a big deal. But, I was still sad. I won't say anything to my Mom though. This was the first year there was no Turtle for me.
Marriage is love.