Delightful Dunkers and a Moment of Zen

 

  

Delightful Dunkers

                                                              and a Moment of Zen

    Today’s walk took Tessa and I downtown and past the local businesses. I was intrigued by one store that now looks to be leased with an “opening soon” sign in the window. I peeked inside and saw little progress, but given current Covid restrictions, I was not surprised. The sign announced the name of the store “The Dough Hook”. It sounded intriguing so when I came home, I looked at Facebook and there appears to be other “The Dough Hook” businesses in neighboring towns. If that is true, we have a bakery coming soon that will be selling Bread, sweets, and donuts! A good donut shop is something we don’t currently have in downtown Albany and something we don’t need with all of the Covid quarantine weight we’ve gained. However, it is up to all of us to support our local businesses during these tough times, so buying and eating donuts would be doing our civic duty!

The word “donut...or doughnut (which is how I learned to spell it) transported me back to my 8^th Grade Junior High year and my first Home Economics class. Everyone wanted to take Home Economics (even the boys) because it was an opportunity to not only cook food, but eat it at school and get a grade for doing so. Of course, the inclusion of sewing, fashion, and other feminine additions to this particular class reduced it to “ladies only”. Had the boys realized how learning the art of sewing and fashion could catapult a man to fame and fortune, we probably would have had more sign up.

On one particular day our teacher announced we would be focusing on cooking and handed us all a recipe to make “Delightful Dunkers”, a donut that sounded like a true winner! We had a lot of fun making them in class and got to eat them when we were done. We even handed out a few to boys that had sniffed them out and were now waiting for the classroom door to open. Personally, I think we should have sold them to the boys and made a bit of money. They were delicious!

I took the recipe home that day and asked my Mother if I could make some for the family. She rarely allowed me to cook in the kitchen. She said I was disorganized and messy. It is true that by the time I was done cooking, every pan, bowl, and utensil was dirty and the kitchen was destroyed. She always made me clean up afterwards, but it was never to her standards. Having said this, I was very surprised when she said I could make the Delightful Dunkers when I returned home from school the next day. I came home and got right to work! The kitchen was a mess when I was done, but I cleaned it up and put my beautiful Delightful Dunkers donuts on a pretty dish. Mom said none of us could eat any until after dinner so off I went to brag to my girlfriend about how I had made donuts all by myself.

When I returned home for dinner, every single donut was gone and only a few crumbs were left on the plate. I asked Mom where the donuts were and she apologized and said when Dad got home he was hungry and her and Richard (my brother) decided to join him in having some. She said “Well...they were so tasty, I hate to tell you this but we ate every single one.” Sure, I was a little disappointed, but the three of them were telling me how fantastic they were, so it was hard to be unhappy about that. I said I could make more, but Mom said we couldn’t have them again for a while or we would all get spoiled and expect donuts every night.

Later that evening, after dinner, Mom saw me sitting on the couch. I was not a child that self-initiated when it came to work. In fact, it seemed whenever work was to be done, I had to go to the bathroom and thus I would camp there with a comic book, hoping the work would be done by the time I got out. It was a ruse that often worked well for me. I wasn’t quick enough this time and Mom yelled to Dad to empty the kitchen trash and for me to help her clean the kitchen. Dad ignored her so I decided to seize the opportunity to empty the trash so that I could escape kitchen cleaning and go outside. It was a new version of the bathroom ruse and I thought it just might work. Mom was distracted and didn’t notice. It was a beautiful summer evening and I thought it best to empty the trash first, then fool around the backyard for a while until Mom had finished the cleaning.

I gasped as I poured the contents of the little trash can into the garbage can. As the items rolled out into the black cavern of the garbage can, so did my Delightful Dunkers! With a simple pause to count them, I observed it was every single one I had made. My mind raced as I tried to figure out why they had been tossed. My first thought was to confront them all immediately and take the soiled donuts with me as my proof. I decided that was not a good plan, as then I would be trapped into cleaning the rest of the kitchen. I mulled the mystery over a bit more and thought perhaps they had fallen off the plate and onto the floor, a plausible theory because I knew Mom did not allow the “5 second rule” in our house. She worked in Food Service and was a cook at the Officer’s Club on base.

What to do… Well, I just wandered into the backyard. We lived on the Air Force Base and our house abutted the flight line/runway. It was a wonderful summer night and because there was a crescent moon the sky was dark and full of sparkling stars. Our yard was covered with plump, pink clover, large in size and very fragrant. I laid down on the lawn and looked up at the beautiful sky. It was magical. There was a gentle breeze, the ambient temperature was absolutely perfect and I could hear the music of the crickets and frogs as well as the tinkle of the dishes that Mom was washing in the sink under the opened window.

In that moment, I found myself swept by a feeling of complete comfort and perfection! The warm air enveloped me and the breeze stilled, I could hear the crickets, frogs and my Mother working in the kitchen, but the sounds became faint and slowly faded away. It was not a distressing feeling, it was a feeling of complete connection to the Earth, the universe and to God. The only thing I was conscious of was the vast, black sky with the shimmering stars and I felt as if I were floating upwards to join them. I wasn’t thinking of anything, just lying there in total peace and freedom from everything. I had never felt that way before, so connected to the universe. It was a totally wonderful experience. I don’t know, maybe I had drifted off to sleep, but I felt awake and aware. Time was nonexistent for me during this experience.

I rejoined “planet Earth” when Mom pushed the curtains aside at the window and yelled, “Janie, what are you doing out there, it’s dark, come inside”. I sat up and said, “Ok” but stayed a bit longer thinking of what I had just experienced. I felt so good afterwards, so calm, so loved and headed back inside.

The kitchen was clean (dodged that bullet) and everyone was in the living room, Mom, Dad and Richard. Now was my chance to question the suspects. I revealed to them that I knew what they had done...or at least what one of them had done. All parties quickly donned a guilty look. Dad, smiled and looked at Mom and Richard and said “I’m telling her the truth”. Mom said “Harold” in a very threatening way. Clearly she was trying to protect my feelings. Richard and Dad laughed and Richard chanted “Tell her, tell her”. So, Dad began his confession. Mom wasn’t too happy, but she joined in.

Mom said when Dad got home, they decided to try a little bite of a donut before dinner. Both agreed the donuts were extremely heavy and were suspicious about how palatable they might be. One bite and apparently Dad had them renamed “Delightful Doorstops”. Dad had false teeth and he claimed he almost lost them taking his first bite. Mom and Dad laughed and Richard asked for a bite. He was an 11 year old child that liked just about anything he could eat, but apparently not my Delightful Dunkers! He said he thought he may have broken a tooth and wondered if I had received an F from the teacher! We all started laughing hysterically.

Mom continued her confession and told me they had to think fast because she had just called me at my friend’s house and knew I was on the way home. What to do… so the three of them had decided to dunk the donuts into the garbage can and Mom asked Dad to get rid of the evidence.

Apparently, he heard “trash can” not “outside garbage can” so unbeknownst to Mom and Richard, that is where he hid them. He was very careful too, he said he first spread a few crumbs on the plate to make it look like they were enjoyed, and then hoisted the daily newspaper and a few other items on top to hide them properly. Their plan might have worked had Dad listened to the exact instructions Mom gave him (something he rarely did).

The good news is, the wonderful, perfect, zen experience I had following my discovery of the “dumped donuts” left me in a very good mood and we all had a good laugh over my culinary skills. Throughout the years, no one ever forgot about my “Delightful Dunkers” and it became a family joke.

Given that my donuts were both very hard and heavy, I have decided I should have named them Biscotti and filed a patent. Oh well, that ship has sailed.

As far as my perfectly timed “zen” moment, I have had that same experience about 5-6 times throughout my life. I cannot even begin to explain what an entirely perfect event it is and hope each and every one of you have experienced it as well, at least once. And for my friends experienced in neurology, no, I don’t believe I had a neurological “event” LOL. As a final note, if any of you come across the “Delightful Dunker” donut recipe, please send it my way, I’m willing to give it a go after all these years...but I will keep the garbage can in close proximity...just in case!

Peace out!

Note: I searched but could not find the “Delightful Dunker” recipe. The pictured donuts were made by me and are very tasty. The Pumpkin Spice Baked Donut recipe is here: https://walkingonsunshinerecipes.com/how-to-make-best-pumpkin-spice-cake/?epik=dj0yJnU9elJ5NDltNjBXS2o1UTNnazFUNzBSVDgyZkJvcFFTVFUmcD0wJm49aThaY2ZOR1dvRjJXczRkbzlqdS1YdyZ0PUFBQUFBR0FVeEh3

I used a Maple glaze on mine. Easy to make and won’t be thrown away. Best eaten fresh from the oven, otherwise things like powdered sugar on top will become moist. Enjoy.

Musings and Memories: Start of my new Blog

  

 

 Today, under white winter skies, Tessa and I took our daily, long walk.  When I'm not walking and talking on the phone, I find myself reflecting on my past.  I don't know why my thoughts take me to my past.  Maybe it's because the future grows shorter and sweet memories of the past help to offset the aches and pains of aging.  Yes, I am not THAT old yet, but the subtle changes of a body well aged have begun to appear.  When I was younger, I was very busy raising children, enjoying my life with Jim, getting an education and pursuing my career.  I had so many things on my mind, that quiet reflection and resurrection of past memories rarely occurred.  With age, wisdom truly does show up!  Life experiences and the luxury of time for deep thought allows me to travel back down the roads of my life.

    Today, we walked through the old cemeteries behind our house. Tessa and I like to power walk, but when we enter the cemetery I feel the need to slow down, pay homage to the residents, learn their names, see the families and read the stones that speak to their final day on this Earth.   It's a great place to walk!  The residents are very quiet and wild violets, impatient for Spring, are already blooming. History fills the air creating a great place to reflect on the past. I started thinking about traditions and wondered if today's young families maintain old family traditions in their homes.  Families today are very busy and often stressed.  I do hope they make time for traditions.  The small, seemingly insignificant traditions my parents shared with me remain strong in my heart and mind and provide a reason to smile when I think about them.  

    Today, while we wandered through the cemetery, the sky grew whiter and the temperature dropped.  I started thinking about the nice hot cup of tea I would make when I returned home and I thought about my long relationship with tea and how and why it warms both my body and soul.  It was because of my Mother.  When we were children, my brother and I were awakened every morning by Mom.  She always woke us up 15 minutes early and brought us a hot cup of tea to drink in bed.  It was what she called "baby tea" which was made by dunking a teabag briefly in a cup of boiled water, then adding a lot of milk and some sugar.  I honestly do not remember a single day where this didn't occur!  Of course, my brother and I never entertained the thought that this event was special, we thought everyone woke up this way!  Mom was always cheerful in the morning and she would put the tea on the bookcase headboard of our beds and say "Good morning, time to drink your tea and wake up".  I never asked but suspect that is how she and her sister were greeted each morning by their Mother as well.  The homes in England were quite cold till the stove or fire was lit and spread it's warmth around the room.  The "tea in bed" tradition was most likely intended to gently wake and warm us before our bare feet hit the cold floor. My assumed last cup of tea in bed, served to me by Mom, was the morning of my wedding.  I had gone back to my old bedroom the night before the wedding.  It was a wonderful decision.  As I lay in my old bed looking at my childhood belongings that remained in the room I felt surrounded by love.  Mom had mostly transformed the room for visiting guests, but when I partially shut the bedroom door, I smiled when I noticed she had left an old "Precious Moments" sticker on the back of the door.  I had put it on the door on the first day we moved into the home and Mom said she never had the heart to remove it, instead it warmed her heart to keep it.  Keeping the door partially open, I fell asleep to the music of my Mother's voice and her best friend Jo laughing and singing in the kitchen while they were putting the finishing touches on the food they were serving at our wedding reception.   The next morning, Mom brought me what I thought was my last cup of tea in bed.  She sat on the edge of the bed and told me the story of how between sips of wine last night, she had somehow had her wedding ring slip off her finger.  She always mixed her potato salad with her bare hands and she was sure that was where the ring was located.  Loud giggling and laughter was heard as both Mom and Jo put their clean hands in bowls of potato salad. They rooted around for the ring, an event much modeled on the British tradition of putting a farthing in the Christmas pudding in hopes of finding it but in that case, hands in the pudding was not part of the formula. They found the ring and ended the night happy, but very tired.  Mom, sitting on the bed sharing her story while I drank the tea (which always tasted best when she made it) was my idea of a perfect wedding day morning.  My last cup of tea delivered to me in bed by my Mom happened shortly after Eric's birth.  Mom had come to spend a few nights at our house to help out because Jim had to go to work.  Eric had awakened in the middle of the night because he was hungry.  I reached for him in the bassinet and cuddled him while I nursed him.  There was a soft tap on the bedroom door and it was Mom.  She had heard Eric cry and so she made me a cup of tea and brought it to me in the bedroom.  Mom was always there for me and in times when I really needed her, she was there with a hot cup of tea.  To this day, when I sip my tea, I think of Mom and feel her cupful of love!

    Well, you can't finish a "today" without thinking about a "tonight".  Mom and Dad had a beautiful ritual for getting us to go to sleep.  It was a tradition we maintained until we thought ourselves too old to continue (though I wish now we had ignored the artificial "age limit" and continued).  Our bedtime as small children was between 7:30 and 8:00 pm.  My brother and I shared a bedroom for several years.  Mom would tuck us in and Dad would often come in and read us a story.  We were then duly notified that it was time to go to sleep.  Of course, with both of us in the same room, we didn't agree that we should sleep.  It was then, that Mom and Dad started a tradition.  They would tell us they were going to bed too and change into their nightwear.  All the lights and TV were turned off and off they would go to bed leaving their door open.  We would then participate in a "round robin".  Mom would start by shouting loudly from her bed "Good Night, sweet dreams, love you all, see you in the morning", then it was my turn to say the same, then Richard's and lastly Dad's.  We would go several rounds and filled the air with funny high pitched and low pitched versions as well as lots of giggles.  The game was to continue until others stopped answering.  Mom and Dad would ultimately fade the phrase out with sleepy voices and loud yawns.  My brother and I decided then that it was time to quit and go to sleep.  I would tell Richard a story in a whispered voice and off we would drift to sleep.  It took us several years to figure out that Mom and Dad had been faking and that after we became quiet, they would creep out of their bedroom, quietly shut our doors and resume their night in the living room with lights and TV on.  I was the one that discovered their ruse after many years, when I got up from a bad dream and heard the TV on.  I never told my brother, we just continued to play for a couple of more years since he was younger than me.

    Starting the day with a hot cup of tea from a loving Mom and ending it with a "Round Robin" full of love was perfect!  I remember making our boys tea in bed...not everyday like my Mom, but frequently.  I wonder if they remember?  We made a new tradition with our boys.  Every Friday night was family night.  We'd go shopping someplace fun where there was unusual food and each person would pick something out to eat at our family night picnic on the coffee table.  Sometimes, we would order pizza.  A rental movie was chosen and we'd seat on the floor around the coffee table eating and watching the movie.  It was a break from eating at the dinner table which we always did as a family.

Did any of you do anything like this that you clearly remember and treasure to this day?  I'd love to hear about your family traditions.  I already know some...friend Joanie had hot dog day at her Mother's one day a week.  I believe Marge (her Mom) did it on Tuesdays, but I'm not sure.  I knew that Joanie was always busy that night because she had to go to the hot dog day dinner.  I think it was Marge's way of insuring she would see her adult children on a regular basis.  I can't remember if she did it when Joanie was young or not.  I went to hot dog night once with Joanie and we had a great time.  Mel and Doug do Tamales for Christmas every year with her huge family.  The photos clearly reflect all of the fun and love that happens on Tamale day every year!  Feel free to share yours with me.  

Right now, despite my doubts it would continue, we have beautiful fluffy snowflakes softly falling to the ground and draping our winter landscape with a beautiful blanket of white.  I'd say it's a good time for a hot cup of tea, a bit of Jeanne's famous fruitcake, and a good old-fashioned book!

    

LOL, The top part that says "If I was Queen" should be removed but I don't know how.  I have no clue how it even got on the blog.  A blog will be an interesting challenge for me, since I am a bit technology challenged!