Someday books

I think we all have cookbooks we keep around and never use.  Books all about appetizers, say, but who has time to entertain?  Books on Malaysian cuisine, for the day we find a bigger Asian grocery, one that stocks the ingredients.  Books on butchering hogs, because, well, you never know.  And books on making your own beer, which mostly remind you how much you like beer, and how maybe someday you’ll make some but right now you just want to drink one.

Of late I’ve been finding I have a whole new class of “someday” books:  doughnut books.  I think I’ve seen six this last year, and I’ve paged through them with increasing interest each time.  I picture myself swathed in my apron, the windows wide open to let out the frying fumes, bringing the warm doughnuts to the table where my kids sit gaping in adoration.  The recipes don’t look that hard.  I’m comfortable with yeast, and I’m even comfortable with deep-frying.  The pictures are mouthwatering.

Yet somehow, several minutes into this fantasy, another set of reactions starts to kick in.  The pores of my face start to itch, as though clogged with grease.  I’m suddenly aware of the last few pounds of tummy fat I haven’t quite worked off.  I look at my T-shirt and notice a couple of permanent stains from my last Bright Idea.

 I put the book on the Baking and Pastry shelf, next to three or four other doughnut books.  “Someday,” I say to myself.  “Someday.”

It really is going to happen–I can almost taste those doughnuts.  I don’t feel guilty about it, and I don’t feel like a failure, even if I am, a little bit, in denial.  After all, everybody has to have their fantasies, whether they get around to them or not. Even you!  So tell us, what are your “someday” books?  (And when “someday” turns to “today,” will you invite us over to share?)

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