I recall a boy gardener we had, when I was maybe 10, who would come over and help my mom with our yard. He would take care of the grass and whatever yard errands my mom might have. On nights when my mom and dad are out, I recall he would come and babysit me and my siblings. Me and my brother liked it when he comes over in the evening, because it also meant playing outside at the night and then he would make us this fried flat sweet dough for night snack. This sweet dough got stuck in my memory because it had become one of my faves. I thought it was just flour, water, and sugar mixed to whatever texture you might like. As I grew older, I tried making it myself a few times using whatever I could recollect from such a young memory. Our old narrow kitchen is still vivid in my head. I still strongly recollect the warm nights when he would just let me and brother play outside with him. We would run around the yard endlessly, which seemed so large to me at that time. I remember. But I can’t quite figure out how to make that fried dough he used to make us. Then, it hit me today. It could be what we call the elephant ears. After all these years, I wondered. But it is just the elephant ears. It is wonderful now to be able to put a name on it. Though, I wish I could also put a name on the boy.
We just made some elephant ears. You want some?
bebatuda
Bebatuda 