Hey folks, I’m back. I took a little detour from blogging into fiction writing after my good buddy Jenni convinced me to sign up for NaNoWriMo, but I have already fallen off that particular wagon. Evidently I will not be composing the Great American Novel this month (you can all exhale now).
I realize that not posting since September has probably cost me my loyal readership - all three of you. I will try to win you back by posting twice this weekend. Let’s start with the Halloween post I didn’t write.
Halloween: a time for spooky stuff, and candy too.
Which brings us to my daughter Alice. Scary and sweet. Alice learned to wring the necks of chickens while living in a beach shack in Mexico and now has a chicken skeleton tattooed on her arm, in memoriam. Alice makes gourmet meals for unemployed friends out of stuff she finds in dumpsters. Alice clipped articles on the Italian olive oil industry out of magazines for me by candlelight in the back of the moldy van that used to be her home (probably one of the few homeless people with a subscription to the New Yorker). But these are all topics for other posts.
Our princess in army boots came to visit for the weekend (she lives in Eugene now, in an actual house). Alice is great fun in the kitchen and, as usual, we traded some new recipes and cooked up a couple of terrific dinners together. Then, the morning before she left, Alice popped a batch of bacon into the oven and took her brother and sister on a walking field trip to… Donut Country.
We have the fortune – good or bad, I’m not sure – to live a few short blocks from one of the best sources
of fried dough in the region. If you live in East Medford, you will be able to deduce b
y the absence of cars lined up for the drive-though around back that I took this picture in the afternoon; also missing is the crowd of white-haired retirees in search of a window booth intermingled with tweens stopping by the counter on their way to Hedrick Middle School up the street. Mornings are pretty busy here in Donut Country.
So anyway, on this particular morning, Alice and Nik and Alekka returned from their excursion with a bag of freshly frosted maple bars. Alice took the bacon out of the oven and laid it in strips on top of each maple bar, and before my aghast eyes, the kids proceeded to consume them. Alice tells us she learned about this, um, dish on a recent road trip to Portland, wh
ere she and her friends feasted on Bacon Maple bars at Voodoo Donuts.
After watching the frightening spectacle for a few minutes, I got up the nerve to try it myself. And what do you know, it was pretty good – a lot like pancakes with maple syrup and bacon. So good, in fact, that I pledge to stop in at Voodoo Donuts when I’m in Portland next weekend so I can compare with the original. I’ll be reporting back with my findings.
I realize that not posting since September has probably cost me my loyal readership - all three of you. I will try to win you back by posting twice this weekend. Let’s start with the Halloween post I didn’t write.
Halloween: a time for spooky stuff, and candy too.
Which brings us to my daughter Alice. Scary and sweet. Alice learned to wring the necks of chickens while living in a beach shack in Mexico and now has a chicken skeleton tattooed on her arm, in memoriam. Alice makes gourmet meals for unemployed friends out of stuff she finds in dumpsters. Alice clipped articles on the Italian olive oil industry out of magazines for me by candlelight in the back of the moldy van that used to be her home (probably one of the few homeless people with a subscription to the New Yorker). But these are all topics for other posts.
Our princess in army boots came to visit for the weekend (she lives in Eugene now, in an actual house). Alice is great fun in the kitchen and, as usual, we traded some new recipes and cooked up a couple of terrific dinners together. Then, the morning before she left, Alice popped a batch of bacon into the oven and took her brother and sister on a walking field trip to… Donut Country.
We have the fortune – good or bad, I’m not sure – to live a few short blocks from one of the best sources
of fried dough in the region. If you live in East Medford, you will be able to deduce b
y the absence of cars lined up for the drive-though around back that I took this picture in the afternoon; also missing is the crowd of white-haired retirees in search of a window booth intermingled with tweens stopping by the counter on their way to Hedrick Middle School up the street. Mornings are pretty busy here in Donut Country.So anyway, on this particular morning, Alice and Nik and Alekka returned from their excursion with a bag of freshly frosted maple bars. Alice took the bacon out of the oven and laid it in strips on top of each maple bar, and before my aghast eyes, the kids proceeded to consume them. Alice tells us she learned about this, um, dish on a recent road trip to Portland, wh
ere she and her friends feasted on Bacon Maple bars at Voodoo Donuts.After watching the frightening spectacle for a few minutes, I got up the nerve to try it myself. And what do you know, it was pretty good – a lot like pancakes with maple syrup and bacon. So good, in fact, that I pledge to stop in at Voodoo Donuts when I’m in Portland next weekend so I can compare with the original. I’ll be reporting back with my findings.
On the sweet and scary bacon theme, here’s something I’ll bet you didn’t find in your trick-or-treat bag this year.
It's a chocolate bar with bacon bits. You can get them at Lillie Belle Farms Artisan Chocolates in Central Point. Our boy Dimitri picked this one up for me… come to think of it, maybe he's a little sweet and scary as well. Must run in the family.
No comments:
Post a Comment