Never underestimate the depths of depravity to which the human soul will plunge in moments of sheer unmitigated mind-numbing boredom. My son asked me to make donuts. Why not? So I start dumping buttermilk, butter, flour, sugar, egg, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, fennel, almond extract - OK, so I got carried away. And then fried up some zeppolline. Little Zeps.
And then, I recall the zeppo-crema, zeppole filled with sorbet or ice cream. Weird, but a very Sicilian thing. They even put ice cream on a bun. BINGO, says my mind. Hey they put a hamburger on a crispy creme, right? Somewhere in this derelect nation of ours. Why not a diminutive hamburger, pickle, barbecue sauce on a little crispy sweet zeppole? Not bad. My son only asked "Why did you put BBQ sauce on it?"
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