This happened years ago but the memory keeps me warm to this day.

We were impoverished students sharing a flat. The mother of one of us
descended on the tribe without notice and required to be fed. She was quite
well-off, very proper, faintly disapproving, a real PITA. Did she say "why
don't I go and get some (whatever) and we will have lunch"? No, she sat on
the couch until we were all crying out for lunch and had to feed her but we
all knew there was little or nothing in the cupboard.

Up speaks the most earnest incompetent cook of the bunch (who could burn
water) who said "I will make pufftaloons!" Nobody had any idea what this
dish was but hunger makes the best sauce as they say. It turns out that
these gems are a kind of deep-fried scone, you drop large spoons of sweet
batter into very hot oil, they swell, cook and brown, and with luck make a
tasty (if somewhat fatty) dessert.

Well the oil was far too shallow, not too clean and way too cold. The soggy
lumps were dredged out and served warmish, each had little lumps of burned
whatever was last fried embedded in their surface with whipped cream on top!

Imagine deep fried sponge rubber with more oil on top for added height.
Plus whipped cream. And cruchy old things out of the oil. Yummo!

The residents each tried one but the Descending Mother filled her plate. We
sat there and watched her eat them - she had to. Politeness demanded she
empty her plate and she was so polite. With whipped cream on top. It was
delicious.

David