That Green Pan in the Pantry

Pepper’s mom here-

I don’t know why (maybe it’s because of the cooler weather) but this came in my mind.

Long ago there were days like today, not hot, but nice and warm, when my mom would start to make doughnuts from scratch. I would see her mysterious face and I would know she was up to something. Keeping my eyes in a book – that was my everyday delight after school – I would pretend I didn’t see anything “suspicious” and I would continue to read with an alerted mind. There were secrets going on in the kitchen.

The beginning of making doughnuts was not so thrilling, and I would stay put and enjoy my book. Soon after that the smell of the yeast rising the dough would fill our little apartment and I wouldn’t wait anymore. I would go and sit on the kitchen chair watching mom working the dough and cutting it with a cup. And sometimes she would let me do that. Then she would go to the pantry and come back with the green pan. Oh, how many wonderful things were cooked and fried in that green pan. We had it since I was a baby, I grew up with it, and I will always remember numerous happy moments linked to our green pan.

   Mom would pour 0.5 liter of oil in it – which was a big deal in those times when we could get food only waiting in long lines – and would let it boil. She would fry five doughnuts at a time. Tanti Gujba, one of our dear neighbor would show up at our door in no time with  “It smells good, ” and mom would invite her to eat with us. Then other neighbors would talk in the common courtyard: ” She is making something good again.” And mom would stack a plate of sugar powdered  doughnuts  and have me share them with everybody who “happened” to be in the yard. 

I remember that green pan in the pantry, the sign of so much joy.

Pepper, guess what’s going on in our kitchen?

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