"Between the optimist and the pessimist, the difference is droll. The optimist sees the doughnut; the pessimist the hole!" --Oscar Wilde
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| Jane, Yvonne and Alice. |
I could only guess what this meant in Nyanja: Gorgeous? Brilliant? Spectacular?
"It means you are delicious," Jane chimed in.
"And you are delicious because you are fat." Yvonne grinned like I was a piece of sizzling bacon.
Alice (pronounced Ah-Riss) elbowed Yvonne and said, "It's so rude to tell someone that they are fat."
So true. Especially when that "someone" is teaching you how to bake yummy things.
Yvonne explained that both Jane and Alice were also De-DE-De, so I finished the lesson. Then I went home and ate a pan of brownies, washed it down with gallon of ice cream and cried myself to sleep.
Three times a week I work with these young women at Chikumbuso in a local compound (slum). They've mastered muffins, scones, cookies, and cakes, and their neighborhood gobbles up anything they make.
This past Monday, however, I was a bit overwhelmed. The girls had an opportunity to sell something at the Dutch Market on Saturday, and I hadn't the faintest idea what they could make that would be cheap, easy, and popular.
Suddenly I had visions of hot mini-doughnuts dancing in my head. The only problem was I'd never made a doughnut in my life, so I got online and learned. Then I taught the girls how to do them. I wished them luck and told them to make a bunch and freeze them for Saturday's market.
They made 600, which is a lot of work when you are making a yeast dough and cutting each doughnut out by hand.
On Saturday we hung up our sign, fried doughnuts, coated them with sugar, and started selling. I even roped Isaac and Alex in to passing out coupons around the market and paid them for every customer they brought in.
At 1 pm we were sold out. The girls were ecstatic, and so was I.
Because Lord knows, my "delicious" self doesn't need any leftover doughnuts hanging around my house.
Yvonne explained that both Jane and Alice were also De-DE-De, so I finished the lesson. Then I went home and ate a pan of brownies, washed it down with gallon of ice cream and cried myself to sleep.
Three times a week I work with these young women at Chikumbuso in a local compound (slum). They've mastered muffins, scones, cookies, and cakes, and their neighborhood gobbles up anything they make.
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| What my kids do while I'm teaching. |
This past Monday, however, I was a bit overwhelmed. The girls had an opportunity to sell something at the Dutch Market on Saturday, and I hadn't the faintest idea what they could make that would be cheap, easy, and popular.
Suddenly I had visions of hot mini-doughnuts dancing in my head. The only problem was I'd never made a doughnut in my life, so I got online and learned. Then I taught the girls how to do them. I wished them luck and told them to make a bunch and freeze them for Saturday's market.
They made 600, which is a lot of work when you are making a yeast dough and cutting each doughnut out by hand.
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| Come and get 'em! |
On Saturday we hung up our sign, fried doughnuts, coated them with sugar, and started selling. I even roped Isaac and Alex in to passing out coupons around the market and paid them for every customer they brought in.
At 1 pm we were sold out. The girls were ecstatic, and so was I.
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| Jane offering samples |
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| Alice getting things ready. |
Oh, Sarah, you DO need extra doughnuts around your house, for your other 'delicious' friends, the Nelsons, who love every last baked good you make, AND LOVE YOU MORE than any baked good you make! Holly
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