It's hard to lock down the source of this memory, but I'm going to take a stab in the dark and guess that it comes from the many trips our family took in the early eighties to places like Taupo and Stratford. As you might expect, a trip to a fish 'n chip shop was mandatory along the way, and I distinctly remember that you could buy chocolate donuts. Now, of course, you can still buy chocolate donuts, but nothing like these. These were put into the deep fryer right in front of you, cooked until golden brown, and then dipped into a large vat of chocolate sauce until coated to a glorious and obscene thickness.
It's a reflection of my advancing decreptitude that whilst I would like to say "I could kill for one of those right now", I am instead reduced to "I could die from one of those right now".
Friday, January 13, 2006
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10 comments:
hey your blog is great!!
Come to my blog catintininfo.blogspot.com
I will be very greatfully and say something.
Good year and good luck
Alan
Argentina
Damn - nought to spam in 26 minutes. That's not bad.
Hmm, expert opinion - is this comment spam or not? I wouldn't be so paranoid, but they've set off alarm bells by not calling me an evil, bitter and twisted soulless cesspool of a man, whom God shall strike dead, possibly while I'm in the bathroom, you know, like Elvis.
Well, that settles that then. Is there a retaliation button somewhere around here?
oh dear looks like you may have your first comment spam...
anyway, i have a similar donut childhood memory, except that it's based in rotovegas and there was no chocolate on the donut, just cinnamon and sugar. it was very early morning and for some reason my parents and i were up and nothing else seemed to be open for breakfast except this donut shop which was literally just opening. we went inside and they were churning out the first donuts of the day from their machine (like a big Dunkin Donuts one)and they gave me one straight off the cooking thing because i was a cute little with pigtails and it was simply The Nicest Donut Ever In The History Of The World (tm).
the first time i went back to Rotorua, probably about a decade later, i couldn't find the shop. Gutting.
sheesh, i stop typing to answer the phone (Shaggy K it was btw) and in the meantime there are four new comments between me and the spam! your blog must be ON FIRE, Mr S!!
nah, it's just everyone takes teabreak at the same time. you know, because none of us would be blogging during worktime ...
While we're on the subject of takeaways, the shops next to our school used to do the best chips in the world. They were sized in that shadowy realm between a full sized chip and a fry, and they were always slightly soggy from not quite being cooked for long enough to crisp and not being drained properly ... and they were perfect. We used to punch a hole in the top of the newspaper wrapper and walk home along the tracks stuffing our faces and watching the steam rise out.
Sadly, such chips seem to have disappeared in the Great Apocalypse of Standardised Chip Supplies from the Lowest Bidder.
See i've never been partial to the soggy chip myself - it's always been crisp all the way for me - you can tell it's packed full of fat by the way it's all hardened up - yum
yup, those lemon laws have always been a real problem for many of us. I too am of a lemony persuasion, and suffer persecution because of it. Just yesterday, police broke down my door and ransacked my house looking for lemons, and when they found a bag of them hidden under a loose floor board, *sniff* they ... *choke* they ... they made my put them through the lemons-squeezer one by one ... *muffled sobbing*
you're just lucky they didn't confiscate your lemons for their own use. i've heard plenty of stories of police corruption in regard to lemons. and to think, our taxes pay their wages. disgusting.
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