So, I made these delicious little beignets, even got my husband to try one before he left for work. Luckily, it was a small batch, because over the course of the day, one by one, the tiny gems disappeared. I felt a little sheepish last night when Mark asked what happened to them all.
Fast forward to this morning. I brewed another pot of French roast. Hmmmm.... What a waste to have authentic New Orleans coffee without real New Orleans beignets. Awesome, I'll make another batch. I mixed the dough, turned it out onto the breadboard, kneaded it, cut it into tiny pillows, then dropped them into hot oil. Once they were done, I put them on a few paper towels and
I tasted one. Oh, dear me. These were even better than yesterday's. Wow, these tiny treats are amazing. I took the plate down the hall to Mark's office where I presented my peace offering,
"I think the difference is that I kneaded them." I said thoughtfully.
"Well, if you didn't 'need' them yesterday, why did you make them?" he asked with a smile. Always the comedian.
Then I noticed it. He was dressed for the office. "I thought you were working from home today."
"Nope, got to go in today, too."
Are you kidding me? Home alone with another plate of these puppies? My waistline is history.
I wonder how they taste if you dunk them...