I have a goldfish named Friend. And no, I didn't fry Friend. I wonder how many of my friends thought I actually fried Friend. Don't worry, Friend is doing fine. Actually, he is doing more than fine - his partner, Buddy, just recently had a tank full of eggs...
I just decided to call this entry Fried Friend because I kept mistyping "friend" today. Have you noticed how similar friend and fried are spelled? Maybe it was a Freudian slip on my part today, since I have been somewhat obsessed with the fried churros I had this weekend at the Jack London Square Farmer's Market.
As most of you know, I am at war with Middle-age Fat. The noxious enemy often sends assassins disguised as lovely emissaries, and the Ladies of the Churros were a bunch I could not resist. They snaked their sexy ways through to my soul and trampled all over me. They were intoxicatingly good - their exterior, crispy and fragrant with hot oil, and their skin, decorated with a light dusting of cinnamon and powdered sugar! Irresistible!
The Churros Man had an interesting machine that looked like a playdough gun/syringe/apparatus that squirts big long tubular playdough pieces. I tried to look for an image of this, but no luck... ...UNTIL now! Fatemeh of Gastronomie has just put up a fabulous collection of the Man making his craft! Apparently, they are not called Playdough Guns, Syringes, or Machines... With this big apparatus, the Churros Man was squirting long tubes of dough right into hot boiling oil. He would then take out the tubes of fried dough and dust them in cinnamon and sugar. Oh, it smelled so good! So good!!!
I've had churros before, but only at amusement parks, both in the US and in Japan. Compared to the amusement park churros, these from this weekend were much thinner, and hence crispier. And I love all things crispy. It is my downfall in my war against Middle-age Fat. And how the enemy exploits my weakness so adeptly! They induce a trance-like state of mind, where I lose all control and discipline and become willing captives of their addictive powers...
This weekend, I lost a few battles in my war against my nemesis and suffered some casualties. But boy, where those moments worth my defeat! There are few things in the world that I deem as being calorie-worthy these days, and these churros were so very much worth it. I salute the enemy and bow my head down in admiration. In a simple yet complete sense of the word, these Churros were epicurean debauchery at its best.
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I'll tell ya what "Middle Age" is. (croaking voice) Ah r'membah....
Those churros looked and tasted good! I was hoping that you'd include a blurp about the "Shaved Ice" stand too. That was heavenly, also!
Then what am I? A Fossil?
If you still think Churros is good, you're definitely young. I can't stand oily coating.
This is kind of funny to me.
When i was a little kid at school, I will always recall being told by our teacher of a way to remember which way around to put the I and the E in the word friend.
She gave us the sentence:
Fry[fri] the End of your friend.
I must've been about 7. I thought it was funny at the time and I remembered it all the way into my own middle age :)
Mmm...fried dough. Your recent posts are inspiring me to drive across the bridge for some east bay farmer's market action! Maybe I'll bring some hot chocolate to dunk the churros in...
Those jams also sound yummy - just the thing to get me through the review I have to write by the end of the month!
These churros are SOOOO very worth the drive!!!! I'll be posting two more finds (one from Berkeley and one from JLS) that might tempt you even more to make the drive out to the East Bay!
That's really cute! Fri the End of your FRIEND! I'll have to use that one on the Papa Bear's little bears!
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