Fresh fatcakes galore

We had our first fresh fatcakes since our return. What a treat! The Rudowskes told us that the Kang Kitchen next to the Meat Market in town made great fatcakes and that they were fresh at 9AM each day so we made the pilgrimage on foot this morning, taking advantage of the cloud cover to be able to walk with an umbrella for shade.

Now, we had had something similar to fatcakes a couple of weeks ago, when Kathy made donuts to share with us; lovely cakey things with sweetness and a bit of spice, reminiscent of the sourdough donuts that Mom used to make in the wok for us when I was a kid. But real, local fatcakes are another thing again. It's hard to quantify what makes them special. They aren't too sweet, for one thing; the sweetness level is not that far above regular home-made white bread. But they don't have that inconsequential sense that most donuts have, where you can feel the non-foodness of them with every glucosey bite. A hot, fresh fatcake (which this morning's fatcakes were) gives way a little between your teeth until the outer brownness kind of pops open, like a grilled sausage skin, releasing the cream-colored innards to spring back into a orange-sized ball shape - they aren't like Timbits either, all you Canadians out there. Most of the sweetness in a fatcake comes from the hot oil that has permeated it somehow. Every bite coats the lips in slightly sweet oiliness. With coffee? Fuggedaboutit! Ambrosia.

I ate all three of mine straightway. Rob ate one and is still saving two for later, even though he has already had a second cuppa joe this morning that he could have enjoyed them with. I cannot but admire his restraint.