I have brought good contrition on my family for low frying butter

Photos: Kevin Pang

The Pang name has been dishonored. Last week, on reading about this extraordinary state satisfactory food object “deep boiled butter,” we done a fatal preference to replicate a plate within a sanctification of my family home. The preference did not come easy. The thought of low frying butter felt deeply shameful. we was above this rubbish food of a plebeians. It would certainly erase a nobleness and venerate we Pangs have built over generations. In a end, debility befell my dignity.

Deep boiled butter: It is a invention of Abel Gonzales Jr., admitted by Texas Monthly as “the undisputed aristocrat of a satisfactory park fryers.” The son of a restaurateur, Gonzales gained prominence as a multiple-time leader of a low boiled food competition hold yearly during a State Fair of Texas. In 2009, Gonzales won for a recipe in that he boiled solidified balls of dough-wrapped butter. That win, along with a broadside that followed, done low boiled butter a beast hit—Gonzales sole 140,000 balls during a state fair’s three-week run. Other state fairs would duplicate Gonzales’ recipe, and variations were concocted by chefs including—not surprisingly—Paula Deen.

The suspicion of creation this plate during home sounded intriguing, in a “I’d consternation what’d occur if we squeezed this delirious skin boil”-sort of way. we searched for versions nearby my hometown Chicago, and a closest we found was during a Wisconsin State Fair, hold any Aug in a Milwaukee suburb of West Allis. Wisconsin seemed a healthy fit—after all, a state is arguably a core from that all butter enlightenment in a U.S. rotates around. The grill organisation that done a deep-fried butter for a satisfactory demonstrated a recipe for a Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel:

After examination this video—in that solidified butter in wonton skin were dunked in an egg-wash before deep-frying—I began second-guessing my decision. we solicited a recommendation of Carol Deptolla, a Journal-Sentinel’s grill critic, though unequivocally we was seeking validation. My inner monologue: Just give me some sign, Carol. You don’t have to contend a words, only click twice if we should go for it.


Deptolla told me she attempted deep-fried butter years ago, though didn’t have most memory of a dish. “It’s really some-more of a newness thing to contend you’ve had it, than to contend ‘oh let’s remember to make a deep-fried butter for a Packers party,” Deptolla told me. She added: “It’s hazardous to eat. You don’t wish to wear something that’s dry clean-only.”

At this indicate oddity got a best of me. The thought that a food could be non-ironically “perilous” was like revelation a toddler to not hang his fingers in a light socket—he will stupidly hang his fingers in a light socket. we apologized to my ancestors, retained a span of rosary beads in one palm and a hurl of toilet paper in a other, and committed to creation deep-fried butter.

Photos: Kevin Pang

The recipe, to use a tenure loosely: Take a hang of solidified butter, cut into slabs. Wrap one wonton skin around a butter, sealing it with egg-wash and dire down a edges. Finally, dump a whole package into a egg-wash and afterwards into a pot of 350-degree Fahrenheit unfeeling oil. Within 60 seconds, these dumplings puffed into little pillows and incited a light golden brown. we immediately plated a wontons and dusted with powdered sugar. we bit into one—only there was one problem.

Photo: Kevin Pang

There was zero inside. The butter had disappeared, leaked by some opening notwithstanding my best efforts to sign a package tightly.


Take two: This time a butter was cubed into smaller pieces, and a whole wonton was balled adult tightly. There would be no evading this time. Once again we forsaken it in a prohibited oil for one minute. This was a result:

Photo: Kevin Pang

I bit in. It was as if someone had squeezed an delirious skin boil directly into my mouth—a prohibited glass squirted out and dripped down a side of my lip. The act filled me with humiliation. And yet, it was crispy and sweet, tasting like a fiery croissant-shaped round exploded between my teeth.


In life, one tries to learn from their mistakes. As God as my witness, we will never transport down this highway again. And nonetheless we can never repudiate carrying indulged in a devil’s dessert, and acknowledging that somewhere low within my soul, a voice whispers: You favourite it, we ill fuck.

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Posted by on Jan 8 2018. Filed under Gadgets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry

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