The Filipino-style Chinese donut, or shtekeleh, is the great contribution of the District of Sitka to the food lovers of the world….A panatela of fried dough not quite sweet, not quite salty, rolled in sugar, crisp-skinnned, tender inside, and honeycombed with air pockets. You sink it in your cup of milky tea and close your eyes, and for ten fat seconds, you seem to glimpse the possibility of finer things.
–The Yiddish Policemen’s Union, Michael Chabon
I did some research and this donut does not actually exist. Chabon made it up. There are people combing the internet for recipes, begging chef’s to try to invent one. I love it that a book can build a world people want to live in, or at least put in their bellies.
A special edition of my favorite short story of all time including an illustration by Audrey Niffenegger! How on earth did I miss this?
“Hi,” Tilly said. She sounded as if she were asking a question.
Tilly never liked talking to people on the telephone. How were you supposed to know if they were really who they said they were? And even if they were who they claimed to be, they didn’t know whether you were who you said you were. You could be someone else. They might give away information about you, and not even know it. There were no protocols. No precautions.
She said, “Did you brush your teeth this morning?”
“Good morning, Tilly,” her father (if it was her father) said. “My toothbrush was fine. Perfectly normal.”
“That’s good,” Tilly said. “I let Carleton use mine.”
“That was very generous,” Henry said.
“No problem,” Tilly said. Sharing things with Carleton wasn’t like having to share things with other people. It wasn’t really like sharing things at all. Carleton belonged to her, like the toothbrush.
Here, right now, is actually a dream. I am convinced of this,
because only I see what I see. A dream is not so different from
-from Underground National by Sueyeun Juliette Lee
this fucking movie broke my heart.