![]() ![]() MaMa Greene had 'da touch'!" I quickly agreed and wondered how I could possess such a thing and she replied, "I guess she gave it to me!" We laughed the I decided that because they each had large families "da touch" had to have come from lots of practice. It was better, but still messy and not quite, and if it's not quite it's not right! I ended up calling Aunt Lou and after going through the steps and a few questions she simply stated, "Well, you just don't have 'da touch'. So after I cooled off a bit I adjusted the recipe and decided to try again. It was much to my husband's amazement that I could spend so much time on something and so easily call it rubbish! It was also much to his disappointment there were no donuts to eat. The first batch did not taste good right so I threw it out. I had trouble keeping the oil at an even temperature, too. With the flour flying while the dough was being made and dropped into spattering hot oil, a lot of extra clean-up was needful. Since the recipe had no instructions my experimenting began and it was not pretty. As we cousins played outside we'd run in and out of the house, circling the table, grabbing and gobbling up fresh donuts. While Mama rolled and cut the dough Aunt Lou fried, turned and drained the doughnuts. A whole lot of fried rectangles (with 2 slits in them) doused with powdered sugar and piled into a multitude of Tupperware containers covering the kitchen table. Hmm, flour for hard dough? Well, this makes a mess of donuts and that's just how I remember seeing them. I recently started asking around for the recipe and finally, Aunt Lou's daughter, Liz, sent me this: One fond memory I have is when our mamas would get together and make those donuts. When we were home we played hard until dark and Daddy would announce, "It's snake-time, time to come inside!" Sharing meals together as well as spending the night at each other's houses were also common. It wasn't unusual for us to spend our days helping Daddy work cows, riding bikes up and down that dusty road, fishing, playing in the yard until dark, or even getting to enjoy an occasional swim in the canal. Those 5 cousins were as close to us as siblings raised under the same roof. One of their 12 children, Uncle Red, his wife, Aunt Lou and their 5 children were our next-door down the road neighbors. We lived in the country on a dead-end gravel road, not far from Grandpa and Grandma George's home place. I have used these products that are highlighted below, and recommend them for your convenience. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. Please note that there are Affiliate Links in the content of Louisiana Woman Blog, and I will earn a commission if you purchase through those links. Her version of the fried pastry does not contain yeast like Louisiana's popular beignet (pronounced "ben-YAY") so I am guessing that is why they were called donuts. However, I have sampled her French donuts called croquesignoles (pronounced "cro-see-alls") made from her recipe on more than one occasion. She died when I was a baby so I only know her from pictures and what's been told to me by those who knew and loved her. Grandma George was of short stature, a mother of 12 and a very meticulous cook. My daddy's mama was "Madame Bill" and my mama "Madame Bill, Jr." or "Madame T-Bill" as the cow-hands at Outside Island used to call her. ![]() That's how the married women used to be referred to in south Louisiana, by their husband's first names. I didn't know my great-grandma, Grandma George, who was called after her husband's first name. ![]() Grandma George's Croquesignoles (French Donuts) ![]()
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