I think we all have cookbooks we keep around and never use.
Books all about appetizers, say, but who has time to
entertain? Books on Malaysian cuisine, for the day we find a
bigger Asian grocery, one that stocks the ingredients. Books
on butchering hogs, because, well, you never know. And books
on making your own beer, which mostly remind you how much you like
beer, and how maybe someday you'll make some but right now you just
want to drink one.
Of late I've been finding I have
a whole new class of "someday" books: doughnut books. I
think I've seen six this last year, and I've paged through them
with increasing interest each time. I picture myself swathed
in my apron, the windows wide open to let out the frying fumes,
bringing the warm doughnuts to the table where my kids sit gaping
in adoration. The recipes don't look that hard. I'm
comfortable with yeast, and I'm even comfortable with deep-frying.
The pictures are mouthwatering.
Yet somehow, several minutes into this fantasy, another set of
reactions starts to kick in. The pores of my face start to
itch, as though clogged with grease. I'm suddenly aware of
the last few pounds of tummy fat I haven't quite worked off.
I look at my T-shirt and notice a couple of permanent stains
from my last Bright Idea.
I put the book on the Baking and Pastry shelf, next to
three or four other doughnut books. "Someday," I say to
It really is going to happen--I can almost taste those
doughnuts. I don't feel guilty about it, and I don't feel
like a failure, even if I am, a little bit, in denial. After
all, everybody has to have their fantasies, whether they get around
to them or not. Even you! So tell us, what are your "someday"
books? (And when "someday" turns to "today," will you invite
us over to share?)