Dad’s Fried Cake Donuts

I simply need to say straight up that my dad made the best damn Fried Cake Donuts in the world. Period. Exclamation point! Oh man, we used to love when Dad was going to make donuts. It was typically on a Sunday, and typically in winter, much like the cinnamon rolls my mom used to make.

Watkins Hearthside Cookbook, 1952.

This recipe, too, came from “the old Watkins cookbook”, published in 1952. “The Watkins man” came to our door once a month (I’m pretty sure he had an actual name, but I don’t think I ever heard my mom actually say anything other than “the Watkins man”!). My mom always bought vanilla from him, proclaiming that Watkins vanilla was the best around. At some point, he apparently talked her into this cookbook and it’s been a family treasure since. I now have the book, and treat it like gold for the memories it holds.

I don’t exactly know when my dad took on a key role in donut-making. More likely it all started because he was the master fry daddy – fish fries (our typical Catholic Friday meals, and always after a great fishing trip), French fries, onion rings….and donuts! My dad had the patience of a saint, and moved pretty much as slow as molasses his entire life. I know he was a hard worker in his “day job”, but I don’t think he rushed through anything, at least in his personal life, and I don’t think I ever actually saw him sweat! That kind of patience is exactly what’s needed for fry perfection.

Dad’s Delicious Secret

Anyway, the real secret to my dad’s fry perfection was his love of rendered suet. That’s right, rendered suet. As a former butcher, before he headed off to WWII, he knew the best, and best tasting, fat for frying was suet. For those of you who are “fat virgins”, suet is that hard, white fat that you see on a hunk of beef. “Normal” people cut that off and chuck in the trash. My dad, on the other hand, knew butchers actually saved this stuff for people like my dad. The key with suet is that it has a high smoke point, which makes it great for frying…a butcher’s secret, according to my dad.

Off he’d go to the market on a Saturday morning to pick up his suet, then spend the entire day rendering, or melting, it into liquid form – a slow and careful project. Then, it was carefully strained so that any leftover meaty pieces were removed. The next day, he and mom would mix up, roll out and cut what seemed like a kazillion donuts and their holes. They had done this together so long, they had a seamless process down. I can still hear the tinny AM radio playing in the background, smell the nutmeg in the dough, and see the hot suet slowly bubbling on the stove just waiting for the first donut to hit.

Our well-loved recipe.

Dad always did all the frying portion, and it seemed like he always knew the exact, perfect time to pull the delicious rounds from the hot oil. Once fried, they were laid out on cut open brown paper grocery bags to cool.  We never had cooling racks and always used cut open brown paper grocery bags. I still do the same to this day! Once they cooled a bit, my job was to roll some in cinnamon/sugar and some in powdered sugar. Sometimes we frosted them. We always left several plain for my dad, and truthfully, those were the best. Wow…I can taste them as I write this!

Here’s to you, Dad, and your delicious fried cake donuts. Who knew we were making memories? We thought we were just making donuts.