Beat well:8 egg yolks (or 4 whole eggs)
Beat in:
2 cups sugar
4 Tbsp. soft shortening
Stir in:
1 1/2 cups thick buttermilk
Sift together and then stir in:
7 cups flour
4 tsp. baking powder
2 tsp. soda
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
Chill dough 2 hours. Heat fat while rolling and cutting doughnuts. Fry until brown. Drain over kettle, then on absorbent paper in warm place. Seve plain, sugared, or glazed.
Note: the amount and kind of spice mayb be varied to suit individual taste. 2 tsp. vanilla can be used in place of spices.
Temp of fat: 370 to 380 degrees F.
Amount: 4 dozen doughnuts
3 comments:
Man I wish I had the nerve to make these doughnuts! I swear I can smell them just reading the recipe and I can transport myself back to Grandma and Grandpa's kitchen in the McBryde house.
I always think of Grandma when I eat doughnuts because I always thought hers were the best and it always seemed to me that a certain amount of "Grandma Magic" must be required to make doughnuts. Hence my fear of making them... Well that and my fear of hot grease.
I was just always just wildly impressed that Grandma MADE DOUGHNUTS. To me, doughnuts weren't something you could make, they were something you bought at the store or a doughnut shop. Grandma was workin' some magic there somehow.
Anyway, when I think of her doughnuts I think of them warm and sugared in her cozy kitchen. I also think of them at our house on Christmas morning. Or of the times Dad would swing me by their house early in the morning and she'd send us home with a ziplock baggie full of fresh doughnuts. HEAVEN!
And then I can smell coffee...and think of Dad dippin' those doughnuts and letting me use his coffee to dip mine.
And then I think of the time a year or two ago when I thought I'd finally worked up the courage to make these doughnuts, went as far as buying the ingredients, but then Scott vetoed them because they were too fattening... so I called Dan to tell him I was going to make Grandma's doughnuts and did he want to come by and he said he never really liked Grandma's doughnuts. WHAT???!!!?? Are you NUTS?
So anyway, I have one of Grandma's doughnut cutters and I have her avacado green mixer which I always hope retains some of her Magic. So I swear one of these days I'm gonna do it... Guessin' I'll screw up the first few batches, but anybody want some doughnuts?
In my early days at Chevron, after I bought Grandpa Nelson's Gold Impala to save the world by getting the infamous Nelson Senior Drivers off the road (you remember, when Grandpa would steer, blind as a bat, while Grandma would give him driving directions), I used to take my laundry to Grandma & Grandpa's when I lived on Bush and didn't have a washer/dryer yet.
(Mom swears that she never saw me visit Groom without a basket of dirty laundry in my arms...but I actually did some of it at Grandma's.)
Grandma Bea would cook dinner, and try to pass along good laundry stain removal tips. To this day, I believe she could get ANY stain out of ANY THING. She could have murdered 12 people and destroyed all the evidence—CSI would never have been able to pin anything on her, she left no trail on the laundry.
Although I didn’t pay much attention to her laundry teachings, me not being “Laundry Inclined” as they say, I believe I did actually start sorting laundry into different piles and colors just to keep her from going Insane. Then, while she cooked, Grandpa would help me fold my warm laundry. That was our special “alone time,” when he'd tell me old Standard Oil stories. That man was way before his time, the way he’d help around the house!!! I don't think a man has helped me fold laundry since.
These were also the years where Grandma would sit in the back of the Gold Impala and direct me to numerous grocery stores all over town to save 25 cents on a gallon of milk, 30 cents on apples, etc. The price of gasoline and the concept of time meant nothing to her, and I wasn't going to dare be the one to try to explain it to her.
Anyway, BACK TO THE DOUGHNUTS. Before they'd pack me off to my own house in the evening, w/my clean, folded laundry, Grandma would give me a bag of fresh doughnuts to take to work the next day to share. Herb Wimmer used to refer to them as "your Grandmother's Sinkers," which was my first indication that they weren't as wildly loved by the rest of the world as by us. So in my heart, they’ve been “Grandma’s sinkers” ever since. Yummy.
No freakin' way. There were other people who didn't like Grandma's doughnuts? This is just all too shocking for me.
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