Bugnes During Lent

Grabbing the plastic bag I had prepared the night before, I left early in the morning for my friend Annie's house. (Annie is my friend who is 89, though she says she is 90 because she is closer to 90 than 89.) Annie told me to come early and what to bring to make Bugnes. Bugnes, like oreillettes, are similar to beignets or dough-nuts, though without yeast or self-rising agents... other than eggs.

Annie is an excellent cook, as Sacha has reminded me many times over, "...People Annie's age know how to cook. Honestly, mom, they can take a plain head of lettuce, put it on a plate, and it tastes like a million bucks." After a conversation like that, I always feel reassured about my cooking skills. Once, he went on and on about how Annie's "green beans" were the best he had ever had. I asked him if they were so different from the ones I made. But before he could answer, I said, "...shhhhhh, forget about it; I don't want to know."

 

I put the plastic bag full of flour, sugar, eggs, and oil on Annie's table. She had her apron on and handed me one. Annie placed a big bowl on the table, opened the flour sack, pouring half of it into the mixing bowl. Quickly her hands moved at lightning speed as she whipped the other ingredients into the bowl. 

Clearing my throat, I said, "Annie, Annie remember I want to LEARN how to make Bugnes. Can you tell me your recipe first?" She pointed, then wiggled her floured finger toward the kitchen drawer, "There! Over there... yes, that drawer, see it?"

Looking through her stack of neatly printed scratch pieces of paper, I found it.

• 500 grams of flour
• a Pinch of salt
• Two soup spoons of sugar
• Two soup spoons of rum
• Two eggs
• 100 ml of oil (and a bottle of oil for deep frying.)
• 50 ml of milk

Glancing at the list of ingredients and looking at what she was mixing in the bowl, I said, "Annie, it says here, Two soup spoons of sugar..." but before I could finish my sentence, she added, "Yes, I know, but my way is better."
Annie knew the recipe by heart... had twink-ed it by heart too, and knew it well. I grabbed a pen and started to scribble down what she was doing:

• Pour half a bag of flour into a large bowl
• a teaspoon of salt
• stir with a fork to blend.
• In a pan, melt 50 grams of butter, and add 100 ml of fresh cream, do not boil; melt slowly.
• Take it off the burner, add two heaping spoonfuls of sugar, and pour it over the pan; if another spoonful is worth running over the spoon, that is okay too.
• Stir until creamy.
• Add two, or three, or four soup spoons of COGNAC (at this point, I said, "Hey Annie, that isn't Rum, it's Cognac. I thought at the bakery they used Orange blossom water?" Annie didn't even bat an eye. She kept at her task. She said between spoonfuls, "Orange water is cheaper than alcohol. That is why the bakery uses it. Cognac has better flavor than rum."
• Lick the spoon before putting it into the sink.
• Crack the two eggs into the flour. Stir it, then add the butter/cream sugar mixture into the bowl.
• Mix with a spoon and eventually use your hand to combine.
• Knead the mixture until it bounces back with elasticity.
• Form it into a ball.
• Let it set for two hours.

I kneaded the dough. While it was rising, she talked about what it was like living in France during WWII. I love her stories about her past. Two hours later, the dough was double in size.

Annie handed me an empty wine bottle. "Inventive rolling pin, isn't it?"
I rolled out the dough, as thin as paper.

Annie used to be a hatmaker with a good eye for detail. She sliced the rolled-out dough into a perfect rectangle. Then Annie cut long strips down the rectangle, two inches wide. She then cut each ribbon into diamond-like shapes and slit each diamond shape down the middle. (Why, oh why didn't I take my camera, it would have been so easy to show you instead of trying to describe it!) Then she tucked the top of the diamond into the slit and pulled it through.

Annie made four to my one. Then she stopped and said, "Okay, you need to learn; go ahead and do the rest." She watched me with an eagle eye. Letting me pretend I could do it as well as she did. Though after making several of them, I did get the swing of it.

We deep-fried the Bugnes (they fry quickly, several seconds on each side.) Then we let them drain on a paper towel and sprinkled powdered sugar.

Photos: Bugnes: A French classic during February. In memory of Annie I post this every year.

Comments

[Kathie B]

Like beignets at Café du Monded in New Orleans.

[Kathie B]

ERRATUM: Café du Monde.

[Susan in Zurich]

I appreciate it so much, when you share your precious memories of Annie 💗

[Ana Maria]

I was just remembering Annie today. Must say a prayer for her. ❤️

[JudyO]

I miss your Annie stories and this was a favorite.❤️

[Anna]

Annie was a huge and wonderful part of your life. I always appreciate your stories and memories of her. Thank you for this one.

[Sue J.]

Like visiting with an old friend. I know you miss Annie. She was a remarkable person.

[Jeanne]

I love your stories of Annie. God bless her dearly and all of you
Love Jeanne

[Kathy]

I always adore your Annie stories. What a treasure to have had her in your life.💕

[Beverly]

Annie was special to us too. Love your stories. We all need to take valuable lessons from those.

[Martina]

Oh Annie! How special she was.

[Rachel Scott]

I know you miss Annie....I do too and we had never met.

[Margie]

I have missed your stories and memories of Annie. How she has warmed and thrilled our hearts although we had never met in person. Only in our thoughts and dreams. God bless you Annie.