Homemade Baked Doughnuts

Mother's Day, and all three of my children called within twenty minutes of each other on Sunday morning, which I found both touching and slightly suspicious, as if there might have been a group text reminding them. Ethan called first, which is in character; Noah called from Portland with background noise that sounded like a coffee shop, which is also in character; Olivia called last and the longest, because Olivia and I talk differently than I talk with the boys — longer, with more circling, more of the thing itself rather than the report of the thing.

Ethan and Mia brought the children over in the afternoon. Leo is now four and a half months and a completely social creature — he will hold eye contact and carry on a kind of conversation that is entirely on his end but is unmistakably conversational, a series of sounds that mean something to him and that he is delivering with intent. Clara presided over the backyard with her usual confidence. Henry found a worm in the garden and delivered a careful address about it to anyone who would listen.

Gary made me breakfast, which he doesn't do often enough for me to take it for granted and does do enough that it means exactly what it means: the sourdough toast, the good eggs from the farm stand, the coffee with the ratio I like. He knows what I like. He has always known, but knowing and doing are different things and he does it. I ate the breakfast slowly and read something for pleasure at the table, which is the gift of a morning with no obligations.

Mother's Day at fifty-one, with four grandchildren. I think about the person I was when Ethan was born — so young, so certain and so terrified in equal measure — and then I think about who I am now, and the line between those two people is the line of a life. It isn't a straight line. It moves through rooms and kitchens and tables and gardens and loss and arrival. But it is unbroken. I've been the person in this family who cooks, who feeds, who keeps the table. I still am. I expect I always will be.

Gary’s breakfast — the sourdough, the farm eggs, the coffee just right — got me thinking about what it means to make something for someone with real intention. That’s the spirit I bring to these homemade baked doughnuts, which have become my contribution to slow weekend mornings and the kind of brunch where no one has anywhere to be. They’re not fried, which means they’re forgiving and the kitchen stays calm, and they come together in the time it takes to have a good long phone call with a daughter. If you’re the person in your family who keeps the table, this one’s for you — and for the mornings when someone keeps it for you instead.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 12 doughnuts

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 cup whole milk, at room temperature
2 large eggs, at room temperature
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
For the glaze: 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, 3–4 tablespoons milk, 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease two standard 6-cavity doughnut pans with nonstick spray and set aside.
Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, nutmeg, and cinnamon until evenly combined.
Combine the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl or large measuring cup, whisk together the milk, eggs, melted butter, and vanilla extract.
Make the batter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir gently with a spatula until just combined. Do not overmix — a few small lumps are fine.
Fill the pans. Transfer the batter to a piping bag or a zip-top bag with one corner snipped. Pipe the batter into the prepared doughnut cavities, filling each about 2/3 full.
Bake. Bake for 10–12 minutes, until the doughnuts spring back lightly when touched and the edges are just turning golden. Cool in the pan for 5 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack.
Make the glaze. Whisk together the powdered sugar, milk, and vanilla in a shallow bowl until smooth and pourable. Adjust milk one teaspoon at a time for your preferred consistency.
Glaze and serve. Dip the top of each cooled doughnut into the glaze, letting any excess drip back into the bowl. Set on the wire rack for 5 minutes to let the glaze set slightly. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Homemade Baked Doughnuts — The Kind of Morning That Asks Nothing of You