It’s June in North Carolina, and the carnivals and fairs should be popping up any day now. It’s always a good time, but my main reason for going to these mass gatherings of sweating humanity is the food. Namely, the funnel cake.
Rather than spend $10 for fried dough on top of the $20 admission, I’m going to make my own. Lucky for me, Tasteful Treasures, a ten-year celebratory cookbook from The River Walk Garden Club has just that recipe.
Isn’t it great when a recipe calls for stuff you already have on hand? Unfortunately, I didn’t have everything listed here, which taught me a valuable first lesson: Always have a supply of cooking staples. Since I get phlegmy after drinking milk, I opt for rice or almond versions. Real milk doesn’t bother me when it’s blended with other ingredients, though. I usually don’t have a need for baking powder, but flipping through the pages of any cookbook has made me realize that I’ll need a can in the pantry at all times.
Also, you’ll notice “molasses, if desired” is listed. I certainly don’t desire molasses, because screw that bitter, staining glob crap. I’ll take the regular powdered sugar and settle for a two hour spike in my blood sugar and gritting my teeth, thank you.
Preheat oil to 375 degrees F. I just got this dandy candy/fry thermometer. Here’s hoping it wasn’t so cheap that it’ll break and leak into my food one day.
Beat egg and add 2/3 cup milk. My dad used to cut eggs with skim milk, claiming that it decreased the cholesterol. I wonder how much cholesterol I added by using whole milk.
Sift flour mixture, salt, sugar, baking power, and baking soda together. This was kind of neat. I plopped everything into the my also new and dandy sifter, then cranked it. Here’s a tip: Sift this stuff away from any vents or fans. That’s precious funnel cake guts escaping. (Yes, I was making this while I was eating breakfast. I’m a bit of a multi-tasker.)
Add the egg mixture to the flour, beat until smooth. Whew. I thought years of inventory work would have made my arms stronger. Nothing will tire your arms faster than having to beat batter by hand. Tempted as I was to use the stand mixer, I realized that it failed me with the butterbeer knockoff I made for the first chapter of Draco Dormiens. Let’s take a chance with developing carpal tunnel and keeping beating… until smooth… aaaggghh…
Bah, a few tiny lumps. I can’t pulverize them all. Good enough.
Holding your finger over the bottom of a funnel, pour some batter into the funnel. Can do. In fact, I had the perfect funnel and it fit well in my hand. Look, the tab used for the ring to link it with its two smaller companions made a good thumb rest.
Drop batter into the preheated oil, swirling it into circles from the center out. Here is where I ran into trouble. I should have known something was up when the batter ran like molasses (har) down the funnel. It refused to drop into the piping hot oil and my fingers were tingling from the heat. After swinging the funnel in a quick, circular fashion, the batter started dribbling in fat globs. Not fast enough. I swirled the stubborn stuff with a spoon. Then my finger. But the batter would not drip faster. I dunked the funnel and its remaining batter back in the bowl and took out what I’d managed to fry with a slotted spoon.
If I ever wanted to make imposter tamarinds, I found a way. Though I don’t know why I’d ever want to make those. A fried dough version of marzipan but it’s shaped like African legume pods?…
Something needed to be done with that batter. A splash of milk and some vigorous stirring later, it flowed better. More like molasses mixed with some water, but it flowed a hell of a lot better. My technique of swirling the funnel could have used a little help, because the end result looked nothing like the traditional funnel cakes.
But I kind of like this. It’s like a species of coral. How fitting, coral funnel cakes.
Top with powdered sugar or molasses, if desired. And I still don’t desire molasses.
Best of all, they tasted great. Not at all burnt or overcooked. In fact, they tasted a little lighter than the funnel cakes from fairs, though I doubt they’re that much healthier. No guilt was felt after munching on these crispy coral cakes, so this is definitely a win.
I do wish I’d been able to get the batter flowing better on the first try. Was it my technique? Did I let the batter sit for too long? I don’t mind experimenting a little with more batches, but I don’t want to gain more weight—hey, wait a minute. What’s this under the recipe?
How big was that funnel I used?…
Well, hell. Not even half an inch. That might have been the issue. Still, I’m fond of my crispy coral cakes, so I’m using this tool the next time I make a batch.
