Doughnut machine

I have discovered a whole new concept!

Doughnut food!

During the Myer stock-take sales, I walked past a Kambrook Doughnut Factory - basically, a jaffle iron but in the shape of six tiny doughnuts. Make a circle with your index finger and your thumb. That's how tiny each of these doughnut moulds is.

So I couldn't justify it to myself at the time, but for weeks, I have been secretly coveting it. It stems from the same place within me that gets gleeful when I think of cupcakes and sprinkles.

Last night, we had our first book club (Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad - I'd heard that the series Lost was heavily influenced by it, and I can see why, but it was a hard slog, despite being very skinny. I digress). Anyway, instead of bringing a cake, I went out and bought a doughnut factory after a day-long inward struggle, and turned up with a bowl of batter and some cinnamon sugar, happy and relieved to be free of the burden of lusting after a kitchen appliance.

Tiny little hot cinnamon doughnuts ensued in three-minute batches.

Today, I was walking down Flinders Street between Swanston and Elizabeth, and passed an Indian restaurant with pictures of vada (deep-fried blobs of lentil puree) in the window. "Ah," I thought. "Those things are shaped like doughnuts."

Then I had a remarkable thought. I don't just have to put doughnut batter in my doughnut machine.

Wehell! I just about skipped home. The possibilities! Doughnut-shaped vada! Doughnut-shaped potato cakes! Doughnut-shaped risotto balls!

ANYTHING MOOSHY AND COOKABLE CAN BE DOUGHNUTTED!

I could have a five-course doughnut FEAST!