consumed fresh Now that Christmas is gone, back to my memory that, increasingly distant from my childhood. These delicious donuts that our neighbor gave us those evoked Rosa me almost identical to my mother.
Christmas came those years with aromas and flavors of wood oven. Some households kept the old furnace in the bottom of the backyard. These were built in the day with red bricks parties, forming a near-perfect vault. Arrived
December, the bustle in the houses was becoming continuous. And neighbors were cited for their sweet and bread baking.
In a year of those, I remember well, my mother was the first to prepare their own in Aunt Engracia. Since morning, heated up the oven with the collection of branches of Kermes, rosemary bushes, gorse and broom dry. And in the afternoon, my grandmother Mary was responsible for directing the dough. It was baking when young girl and my mother learned from her.
on brass trays, blackened by use, were placed carefully the gobs of dough, whether rosquetes, bagel or butter. The wine
rosco arose from a mixture of white wheat flour, olive oil, breadcrumbs, sweet wine or white wine tied and sweet, aniseed and sugar. The shortcakes, with lard, flour, oil and sugar. And my favorite, donuts, made from a thin dough wrapped around quite another to base of toasted almonds, but some ground, sweet syrup of figs and honey.
I liked helping my mother in this entertaining work ... and I vividly remember the taste of raw dough that took it secretly, it was not recommended for indigestion. It was my desire to make these tasty delicacies, longed for all year.
The wait by the stove was nice. The warmth that it appeared from the oven and the smells surround us attracted enough to stay busy playing around.
When the firing ended, they proceeded to remove the trays to be placed gently pieces cooked in baskets. And those are few. there is none based on the strand of wild olive twigs and strips of cane. Office was that of gypsies terns, which went from town to town selling their crafts while they kept the streets and squares braiding.
in baskets, waiting for the still unsweetened rusks wine. That was no impediment to metiéramos hand from time to time and appease the desire for eating.
Ah! It was not until a few days before Christmas when my mother unfolded on the kitchen table a sort of army of threads, arranged in line to be sweetened. One was used to bathe aguanÃs rosquetes for, then, bard with powdered sugar, which I loved grinding turning the handle of the coffee grinder. Dishes and trays full of sugary little crowns were deposited in the cupboard. Then the temptation increased enormously and, as much as watching my mother, holes in the plates grew almost by the hour. Almost
not enough to overcome the last week of the year, but the cravings were fully satisfied ...
A SONG FOR CARLOS CANO ALWAYS MADE ME REMEMBER THOSE TASTY AND SWEET SMELL OF CHRISTMAS ... "Cupboard of nuns."
may be the convents where they still made those sweet so sweet artisans memory.
