I recently got an email with a teaser line about making “Quick and Easy Donuts at Home!” Well, how could I pass up reading more about making a delicious confection that was so quick and easy? I clicked on the link and was directed to a recipe for "donuts" that involved cutting a hole in the center of a refrigerated buttermilk biscuit, deep frying it and then sprinkling it with confectioner’s sugar. Now, I like biscuits, they don’t even need to be homemade for me to appreciate them, but a biscuit, even a deep-fried one, is not a donut. Not by a long shot, my friend.
When I was a little kid my Mom was in a bowling league. Every Saturday while the moms bowled the kids would be sent down to the basement of the bowling alley to the day care. (There is either a horror movie or a 20/20 special in there somewhere.) Anyhow, while in the basement of the bowling alley the baby sitters would roll out these nasty old mats and make all of the kids lie down and take a nap. A nap… in a bowling alley… with bowling balls and falling pins above our heads. Really? Even at the age of 4 or 5 I knew this was a fruitless effort. Even an exhausted child isn’t going to sleep well under a bowling alley!
The highlight of this weekly misadventure was always snack time. Once we got popsicles. Sometimes we got chocolate chip cookies. There was one woman who made the promise of cookies, but it was always a disappointment. After lying on the nasty mats for what seemed like an eternity we would be called to the endless row of folding tables for a cookie.
She called it a cookie, but it was a graham cracker. It wasn't even the kind of graham cracker with cinnamon and sugar on it. Just a plain old cracker. One day she held out the graham cracker to me and asked, “Would you like a cookie?” I replied, “I would like a cookie, but this isn’t one. It’s a graham cracker.” She told me that a graham cracker is like a cookie. I don’t remember if I actually voiced my disagreement with her statement or if I just thought, “I don’t know what the heck you’ve been eating all your life, but this is not a cookie!” Either way, my mom didn’t bowl much after that day.
It’s been about 30 years since the bowling alley incident, but my belief is as firm today as it was then; No matter how it crumbles, a graham cracker is not a cookie.