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Last week DinoVino brought home six large avocados. We ate two of them on Sunday as avocado toast, but the next night I had no choice but to make a giant guacamole with the remaining, very ripe, four. Rather than our usual baked tortilla chips, I made fry-bread. The previous evening we had eaten pissaladiere, the onion and anchovy pizza from the south of France, and I'd saved out a lump of that dough expressly to make fry bread (see how I'm always thinking ahead?). I divided the lump into six little balls and rolled each into a thin circle. Then I slipped them, one at a time, into about an inch of hot grapeseed oil.
I haven't made fry bread for thirty years, for the obvious reason that no one needs to be eating fried food on a regular basis. Once every thirty years is probably about right. But now I'm wondering why I would willingly deprive myself of such a treat. Thin and crisp. Delicious. And because of my ever-present batch of sourdough I can always get my hands on a lump of dough. Fry bread. Better than doughnuts—and a heck of a lot faster to make! Maybe once a year would be a good compromise . . .
Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
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