Baked Vanilla Doughnuts with Smart Mass (Optional)
When I first got sick, Sweet Hubby, with not a word of complaint, took an extra part time job, so that I’d be able to cut my hours down, and better manage my own limits. We laugh about this now. Because of said extra job, today found me single parenting my bored kid, who at just slightly less than 9am today decided that in order for me to be a good mother, it was time to teach him how to bake doughnuts. After all, isn’t it my job to teach him how to do things all by himself, lest I someday die and leave him lacking crucial life skills on the day a sudden urgent doughnut crisis occurs?
I’m an idiot, so I agreed. By the time the nieces arrived, it was too late to reverse course.
WHAT
DOUGHNUTS
1/2 cup + 2tbsp butter or margarine, softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
3 cups flour
4 1/2 teaspoons baking powder (should be younger than you are)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
lorazepam to taste
Glaze
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/4 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tbsp light corn syrup
4 oz chopped bittersweet chocolate if you’re a better person than I am, otherwise, about a half-cup of semi-sweet chocolate chips.
2 cups confectioner’s sugar
HOW
First, prepare yourself and your work space. When baking with children, I usually recommend a good fighting wine, like a cab-sauv. Because it was 9am, and I’m a responsible parent, lorazapam made a reasonable substitute. Oven to 350, generously spray two doughnut pans with cooking spray, then wash them out, because you still haven’t moved the Lysol to a different shelf, and REALLY spray with cooking spray this time. Boi’s preparation included donning a fireman’s helmet, cape, armour and rubber boots. I’ve baked with him before, these really are all sensible precautions. I’m not sure WHAT he was thinking when he made himself a self sticking mask out of Smart Mass. (Silly Putty for nerds)
Directions:
DOUGHNUTS
1. Blend 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons butter with 1 cup of sugar in your shiny new stand mixer. (or with a bowl and hand mixer)
2. Add the eggs and mix well. Because you’re teaching a life skill, and you’re an awesome parent, let the kid do this.
3. Watch proudly as he adds the eggs, then watches the stand mixer do it’s thing.
4. Lunge in horror to attempt to intercept Smart Mass mask as it slips off his face, and into the batter.
5. Quickly turn off mixer, while simultaneously teaching child every single word he’s never allowed to say in front of grandma, and remove unblended lumps of blue Smart Mass. Reserve for another purpose. Turn mixer back on, hoping that the irretreivable bits of Smart Mass will blend finely enough to either a) be unnoticeable or b) be passed off as ‘sprinkles’.
6. Cut remaining hunks of Smart Mass from child’s hair and discard.
7. Get child to measure and sift together flour, baking powder, salt and nutmeg into a separate bowl and combine.
8. AFTER child stops sneezing, clean up scattered flour, baking powder, salt and nutmeg, salvaging what you can, and topping up the rest by guessing measurements.
9. Add to the butter and sugar mixture.
10. Turn down the mixer that the child has set to ‘vaporize’ and clean up the fine film of dry ingredients that now covers everything in the kitchen.
11. Place lorazapam under tongue and wait for it to dissolve. (yours, not his) Repeat as needed.
12. Blend in the milk and mix together thoroughly.
13. Fill greased doughnut pans 2/3 full. I use disposable piping bags, and try to ignore child laughing insanely over ‘cat poop-like appearance’ of doughnut batter as I’m piping it into the pans. 14. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes, or until doughnuts are golden. Cool on wire rack.
While doughnuts are baking, send child upstairs for bath while you try to decide whether to attempt to clean the kitchen, or just burn the house down and start fresh.
I find this recipe makes about 16 doughnuts. From personal experience, don’t grease more of the wells in the pan than you need. Nothing ruins your pans faster than baking them greased and empty.
GLAZE
Assuming your doughnuts are salvageable and that the essence of cooking Smart Mass hasn’t completely ruined them, you’re ready to make the glaze. Mix your 1/2 cup of butter with the milk, vanilla and corn syrup in a small saucepan over med-low heat until it’s all melted and glossy. Turn down to low and add the chocolate. Once all the chocolate has melted, add the icing sugar. Baking wonks will tell you to sift it, but there is no process for sifting icing sugar that doesn’t make arthritics cry, so I don’t. I just whisk the hell out of it.
Set your cooling racks over parchment, waxed paper, paper towel, newspaper….ANYTHING that won’t result in you trying to wash petrified drips of chocolate glaze off your counter later, then dip each doughnut, ‘top’ side down into the glaze to about the halfway point. Turn to allow excess glaze to run off, and remove to cooling rack. If you like, sprinkle with nuts, toasted coconut, jimmies, whatever spins your toque right after dipping, before the glaze sets. Repeat until all the doughnuts are glazed and decorated to your liking, picking out things like Lego pieces and any visible bits of Smart Mass as you find them.
Hint***Extra glaze makes great fondue if you happen to have firm bananas around and a kid that won’t eat fruit or vegetables unless cleverly disguised.
Hint 2.0*** Never turn your back on an 8 year old who has in his possession a firm banana and a pot of chocolate glaze.
Allow doughnuts to set for 30 minutes, and enjoy. Alternately, send chocolate/Smart Mass/sneeze doughnuts home with departing nieces to get even with their parents for making you babysit their likely contagious kids all day because there was flu at their house.
Schedule hair cut appointment for child to even out missing hunks where you had to cut the Smart Mass out.
Hint 3***These pair well with White Russians.
Bahaha 😀 Oh darn, no Smart Mass doughnuts for me. Love the “getting even” part, since I was aghast that anyone would send their kids to you knowing you’re sick too. Sounds like something I’d do, too.