June 29, 2017
Doggie Donuts
By John & Joan Maxwell
Cinnamon Ridge Farms
As I was growing up on our rural Scott County farm, money always seemed to be stretched thin for our family. While buying new shoes for the six kids in our family was nearly impossible, our farm (along with hard work) always provided our family plenty of food. We had a large garden, and Mom and the girls would can fruit and veggies so we could eat them all year round. The farm also provided fresh beef, pork, chicken, eggs and lamb. We made our own bread, sometimes even from the wheat we grew and ground ourselves. Mom had the amazing skill of making delicious meal after delicious meal, just using whatever was in season or had come into the icebox. Vegetable beef soup, sour cream muffins, ham and broccoli casserole, fresh peach pie, chicken and rice… My mouth waters just thinking about the wonderful meals Mom would have waiting for us after chores.
While we enjoyed an abundance of food from our farm, Mom and Dad weren’t above finding a good deal. They would routinely buy large sacks of day-old bread cheap from Bon-Ton Bakery, located near Five Points in Davenport. Mom was an expert at converting unappetizing day-old bread into yummy, piping hot toast. The stale bread, expired pastries, and other baked goods that weren’t edible by us, we fed the cats, dogs, chickens and pigs. Sometimes the bags included some “day old” pet treats (that is, treats Bon-Ton made especially for pets). Our border collie, Doggo, loved those!
On one summer night, my older brother and I were finishing up milking the cows and feeding the animals. It was past 8 p.m., and we hadn’t had supper yet. But as my stomach rumbled, I remembered my parents were dancing at the Col Ballroom—that is, Mom wouldn’t have a fresh meal waiting for us. Yes, she’d probably left instructions for reheating some leftovers, but I resigned myself to the idea of a less than tasty meal. As my brother and I were throwing outdated bread out of the bag to the chickens, we came upon a bunch of Bon-Ton’s “doggie” donuts.
My brother paused for a few seconds, weighing the bag in his hand. He then said to me, “If you eat one doggie donut, I’ll eat two.” Seeing how I was hungry (with the unexciting prospect of a leftover casserole), somehow I thought this would be a great deal. I said ok and stuffed one in my mouth. It was pretty stale, dry and tasteless. Although it was hard to get it down, I was eager to see my brother to take his turn. But, after I swallowed my last bite, instead of him eating the one he was holding, he proposed, “If you eat two, I’ll eat four.” Not yet seeing a problem with this, I ate another. By the time I finished the second one, my mouth was so dry I couldn’t even spit. My brother started to laugh, and I realized I had been had. As he was running away, I picked up a hard doggie donut and slung it at him. My aim was better than my wits, and it hit him right in the back.
To this day, my wily brother and I still talk about those good times on the farm growing up and eating (most of the time) wonderful food fresh from the farm. Today at Cinnamon Ridge Farm, we offer many of the same “fresh off the farm” items (BUT NO doggie donuts) at our farm store, at the food hub, and at Freight House farmer’s market. Stop by in person or check us out on the web at www.tourmyfarm.com.
