I’ve shared a few donut recipes before, and they are good, but…they are baked. Let’s do this donut thing right. And by that I mean FRIED. The first time I fried something, I felt like the most domestic girl in the world. I couldn’t believe this skill was in my arsenal. I decided it must be genetic, since my grandmother made the best fried chicken ever. Ok, so the first time I fried something, it actually didn’t go so well. I caught the cooking bug during college in Waco. After watching the Food Network, I would search every grocery store in that little town looking for the exotic ingredients Giada called for in her recipes. Sorry, Giada, but in the South, we don’t do no prosciutto or Parmesan (or, as you say, Par-MEE-john-o). I’m American. I eat bacon and Velveeta. You should try it sometime. I put on a low-cut shirt (isn’t this step 1 for all of her recipes?) and tried to sashe around the kitchen as effortlessly as Giada. I was waiting for my olive oil to smoke in my pan so I could sauté some garlic. I saw a wisp of smoke, so I dropped in the garlic. It hit the pan, instantly turned black and bounced around the skillet. I grabbed the pan from the heat, threw it in the sink and turned the faucet on it. Smart, right? Oil and water. The garlic took flight and almost burned my roommate’s boyfriend’s face. If this is Italian, I don’t want to cook like an Italian anymore. Italian food hurts people. (Just kidding, Paula, I love you more than bacon dipped in Velveeta.) The next time I fried something, it went very well. It was canned biscuits to make donuts. Now here’s where the genes kick in. I didn’t want you to be dependent on canned biscuits, so I made a homemade version for you to fry. I bet you have all of these ingredients in your pantry already. I used a 3" biscuit cutter for donuts, then I used the back of a piping tip to cut out the hole. Neat, huh?
