Doughnuts

When I was little, more than half a century ago, my Dad would drive the three of us downtown to The Royal York Hotel, so he could get a copy of the Sunday New York Times. The drive from the suburbs to downtown was not the stress provoking trip it is today. 

I remember that we drove home along the Lakeshore, and stopped at a little place for doughnuts. That old coffee/doughnut shop was torn down for the expansion of the Gardener Expressway. 

Dad did love his doughnuts. One Mother's Day he gave my Mom a deep fryer...so she could make him doughnuts. She scoffed, and rightly so. He then decided he would make them himself.

We made a few batches, before the fryer ended up on a basement shelf, forgotten. 

Maybe not forgotten exactly, Mom may not have let Dad forget what a terrible gift that was. I don't ever remember small appliances being on the gift list ever again. Actually, the older the kids got, the better he seemed to get in the gift giving. Leather jackets and mink coats were a big improvement.