It’s been that kind of day. Took a day off from work to drive my daughter into the city – she’s spending a week with her aunt on the beach – lucky ducky. We were supposed to get there nice and early, have a breakfast with her grandparents that live in the city (please note, as stated before, the phrase “the city” always means NYC. Everything else is…not “the city”), get her on her way, take my son to a/the museum, have quality bonding time, etc.
Took a day off from work but ended up working just enough to piss off the people I work with AND my family.
Hit traffic. Missed breakfast – had to grab her something from Starbucks and she was only able to see her grandparents for a whole 5 seconds.
On the way to the museum my son said,”I really just want to go home.” Awesome.
On the car ride home he asked for fritters, like the kind my mother makes. What? This is a boy who only asks for one food – spaghetti with butter. That’s it. Once I made it with olive oil and he revolted. I was so happy. This would turn my day around. Fritters? Coming right up! Yes, it’s true, I’ve never fried anything at home before. But so what! I can do it! I will try!
Here’s the batter – I put stuff I think I kind of remember my mother putting in there – sort of. I don’t have the heart to do a recipe list. Besides – it was a huge failure, did I mention that?
In the hot oil it looked ok….
and then there was this.
I tried making them smaller, turning down the oil, making a different shape, saying a prayer – I did it all. All I got was a house that smells like burnt oil and absolutely, positively no fritters.
Sorry I didn’t take pictures of us being late, not having breakfast and everyone being angry with me. Maybe tomorrow.