I spent the entire week looking forward to heading downtown for the Arts Festival on Saturday. I don't really know why, especially considering the words "Arts Festival" roughly translate to "Weeks it is guaranteed to storm daily" in Pittsburghese. I suppose I figured we wouldn't be able to do yard work in the rain, but we could slap on some ponchos and walk around looking at the amazing food. Er, art. Yeah, ART. I mean, I would never go to the Arts Festival just so I could grab a funnel cake. Or two.
OK, so I would. Totally.
We happened to start out at the end very far from the food, which worked out well because we did get to see some actual art. The thing about the Arts Festival that slays me every single year is that when I do find something I think I might like to buy, it always costs eleventy umpteen bazillion dollars. ALWAYS. That painting that would look good in the dining room? Was $12,000. I'm not even kidding.
Needless to say, there's still a big blank wall in the dining room.
As we meandered through the various booths of stuff I will probably never be rich enough to buy, Alexis was focused squarely on the sweet voice of a female singer perched on a small stage over on one side. Her continued insistence that we sit down and listen made me think of the Washington Post story about Joshua Bell playing in the subway (if you've never read the story, GO. Really.). So, it was great pride that I sat with Alexis on the ground to watch the singer. In all honesty, Alexis watched the singer. I watched Alexis. There isn't much better than watching your kid stare with fascination as she discovers a new genre of music.
When the performance was done, we made our way towards the food.
FUNNEL CAKE!
I pink puffy heart funnel cake, in case you hadn't noticed. It's not so much that it's the greatest food ever invented (although, it is), it's more that funnel cake denotes a special occasion. Since you can't just go to the mall food court and get it, it's a rare treat that is accompanied by carnivals or amusement parks or festivals of whatever sort. If there is funnel cake to be had, there is fun to be had. You just plain suck if you are all frowny-faced when there's a funnel cake in front of you.
Alexis, for her part, is much more of a french fry sort of girl than a funnel cake sort of girl (she's an alien, I tell you), so we started out appeasing her. And then I eyed the funnel cakes. And then I eyed them some more. And then I thought about how easy it had been to make 20 of them just the previous weekend when we had a few great friends over at our house.
People, I walked away from the Arts Festival funnel cake. I decided I would rather make 50 of them for all my favorite people than spend the crazy-high price they wanted at the booth.
What the hell is wrong with me? ACK!
Just because I know someone will ask, here is my Top Secret Funnel Cake Recipe:
- 1 1/3 cup milk
- 2 eggs
- 2 1/2 cups flour
- 3 tbsp sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 2 tsp baking powder
- 2 cups vegetable oil
- Powdered sugar or other toppings
Heat vegetable oil in a large skillet at medium-high heat.
In a small bowl, beat the eggs and milk. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder. Slowly add the liquids to the flour mixture while mixing with a hand mixer. The batter should be about the consistency of pancake batter when it's done.
If you don't have a funnel, transfer the batter to a gallon-sized Ziploc bag and snip off one corner of the bag. Whether using a funnel or a Ziploc bag, carefully pour the batter into the hot oil in a squiggly roundish pattern. Allow to cook until lightly browned on the bottom, and then use tongs to carefully flip the funnel cake and cook the other side until lightly browned.
Pull that sucker out of the oil and place it on a few paper towels to drain some of the oil. Top with powdered sugar. Or, if you're fancy, slap some strawberries, apples, blueberries, whip cream, ice cream, or whatever on top.
Oh, and if you were in Pittsburgh on Saturday and noticed that it kept raining for five minutes, stopping, raining for five minutes, and then stopping over and over and over again, blame the kid in the yellow poncho. She kept chasing the rain away.