Let me just say that I’m a fried food fan. Nothing compares to the taste of crispy, well-fried food. Unfortunately, frying is an activity I’d rather not do. I’m not very good at it, and I get bored standing there impatiently willing the food to cook already. The whole frying ritual also makes me smell like I myself was deep-fried, and the odor lingers through the house.
Frying is in itself, a science; an accomplishment with many challenges. There are many factors to hurdle before being bestowed the joy of perfectly fried food. The temperature and the amount of the fat and food need to be considered. You also have to be conscious of what oil you use and it needs to be at a constant temperature for the food to cook through so that the food is crispy, not greasy.
In a word, bewildering.
But I was curious, and I wanted to try it now. So I got up early today, a Sunday morning, poured nearly half a gallon of vegetable oil into a pot and let it heat to 360°F. While that was going, I put together the churros dough: a simple mixture of water, butter, salt, flour, and eggs. The dough actually reminded me of a choux pastry, the kind cream puffs are made of.
I wanted to keep my oil at a constant temperature, so I clipped my deep-fry/candy thermometer to the pot. I then piped the churros dough into the oil. Upon hitting the oil, the dough writhes as if in pain, and then floats to the top, surrendering to its fate. Those professional churrerÃas must fry their churros in molds, because there was no way I could control the figures of my churros. They looked like squiggles gone amiss.
Since overcrowding the food in the pot will bring down the temperature too much, I only cooked three churros at a time, for about six minutes each. After that much time in the pot, they turn a dark golden, and they are, of course, best eaten directly from the skillet without any thought of sharing them with others. Heh, heh. After a minute’s rest on some paper towels, I dumped the churros into a plastic bag that I had previously put some cinnamon-sugar into. Once the churros were in, I shook the bag and did a little non-denominational dance of joy, complete with flapping arms.
I’d gone fryer-mad.
I had hoped to make some tsokolate to dip the churros into, but frankly, I was too tired, not to mention smelly. I almost forgot to take photos too.
The verdict? My Bin and Boo liked the churros, and so did the rest of my small household. The churros weren’t as doughy as the commercial ones, but they were crispy, and satisfying to eat on a Sunday morning. I just don’t think I’ll do it again. Frying is a bit too adventurous for me.
After all, I said I’m a baker, not a fryer.