Professor Butter Beard and the “Creation of the Rings”
“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne;
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, one Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them;
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”
- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, Epigraph
On most days, I am convinced that I am a reincarnated Hobbit. There are magical baking moments when I recognize Wizard potential. When my ZZ Top beard starts to take over my soul, I acknowledge my inner shaggy Dwarf. And, as my ears continue to grow into their elder stage, I can imagine my life as an ancient Elf-king. But most days, I am truly a Hobbit.
J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit,” written in 1937, is our introduction both to Middle-earth and the tale of the “One Ring.” And, yes, I have read the entire series at least thirty times, first as a munchkin after Christmas dinner and now as a delicious ritual over the winter holiday professor breaks. The country of the book is a land much like our own, as mythical, but no more so. Peter Beagle writes, “Its sunlight is remembered from the long summers of childhood, and its nightmares are equally those of children: overwhelming visions of great, cold shapes that block out the sunlight forever.” But the forces that form the lives of the inhabitants of Middle-earth are the same that make our lives – history, chance and desire.
Hobbits are a small, burrow-dwelling people, a little shorter than Dwarves: furry-footed, sociable growers and gardeners of fruits and flowers, fond of fireworks, story-telling songs, second (and third) breakfasts and home-grown tobacco, inclined toward stoutness and the drawing up of histories and legends. In Tolkien’s first book, we meet Bilbo Baggins who accompanies thirteen Dwarves and a wizard named Gandalf to aid in the recovery of a treasure stolen by a greedy dragon centuries before. During the “adventure,” Bilbo discovers a magical ring that makes the wearer invisible (useful when avoiding dragons). But it is the forging of that one ring, and its nineteen mates, that dances around the fire in my mind and leads me at pre-sunrise into my magical kitchen laboratory.
In “The Hobbit,” it is the wizard Gandalf who discovers that Bilbo’s ring is in truth the “One Ring” of Tolkien’s epigraphical poem. It was forged by the Dark Lord, Sauron of Mordor - a being ageless and utterly evil. The nineteen lesser rings, distributed among Elves, Dwarves and Men are meant in time to lure the three peoples under the domination of the “One Ring” – the master of all.
Sauron himself is never “seen” in Tolkien’s original four books, except for one terrifying moment when the opened mind of a Hobbit makes contact with the Dark Lord via a “Palantir,” or seeing stone. It is only in Tolkien’s pre-stories, and now in Amazon’s “The Rings of Power” set thousands of years before Bilbo’s adventure, that we meet the sinister (and oddly sexy) necromancer as he manipulates Celebrimbor, the Elven-smith of Eregion, into forging the “Rings of Power” necessary to weave together his menacing plot of Middle-earth domination. For the rings devour the soul of the wearer. Tolkien, while denying that absolute evil could exist, stated that Sauron came as near to a wholly evil will as was possible.
Tolkien's own artwork was a key element of his creativity from the time when he began to write fiction. A professional philologist, he prepared a wide variety of materials to support his Middle-earth fiction, including black and white illustrations for his first editions, facsimile artefacts, more or less “picturesque” maps, calligraphy, and sketches and paintings from life. The first British edition of “The Hobbit” in 1937 was published with ten of his black-and-white drawings, including the welcoming circular interior of “Bag-End, Residence of B. Baggins, Esquire.”
The talented author’s maps, like his illustrations, helped his readers to enter his fantastical world of Middle-earth. “The Hobbit” contained two maps; “The Lord of the Rings” had three, redrawn by his son Christopher Tolkien; “The Silmarillion” had two. These served multiple purposes, first as guides to the author, helping to ensure consistency in the narrative, and later to the reader through the often complex routes taken by his characters.
Later, with his children, Tolkien created watercolor illustrations to further enhance the stories he had written. None were meant to be seen except perhaps those for “The Hobbit’s” original publication. Even then, the entirety of that collection was unknown for many years. Not only was the author and professor proficient in drawing and watercolor, but he also mastered the art of calligraphy. Within this area, Tolkien created new languages for his stories and readers and admirers of his work have even taken to learning these languages.
Oddly as it may seem, Tolkien consciously decided to not draw the human form of Sauron. We “see” the Dark Lord as an ominous, ever-watching, glowing eye. Sarah Crown, in The Guardian, wrote that “we're never ushered into his presence; we don't hear him speak. All we see is his influence.” She called it “a bold move, to leave the book's central evil so undefined – an edgeless darkness given shape only through the actions of its subordinates,” with the result that he becomes “truly unforgettable ... vaster, bolder and more terrifying through his absence than he could ever have been through his presence.”
Peter Beagle wrote, “Beyond the skill and invention of the man, beyond his knowledge of philology, mythology and poetry, “The Lord of the Rings” is made with love and pride and a little madness.” I recognize and fully connect with these ingredients. As the aqua-pink sun rose this morning, Nels and I hiked through the woods, dancing between the beams of sunshine that peeked through the shivering leaves as they just begin to change color and show off their inner creativity. We hoped to meet up with Bilbo, Gandalf and the Dwarves and offer them a third Hobbit breakfast of freshly baked Apple Cider Donuts – an offering of “Rings of Another Power” – filled with love, and pride and a little madness.
Baked Apple Cider Donuts
Eighteen Donuts – using three doughnut pans
2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp fine sea salt
1 Tbsp cinnamon
½ tsp freshly grated nutmeg
16 Tbsp (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup dark brown sugar
½ cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1 ½ tsp vanilla paste
¾ cup apple cider
Finishing:
6 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted and cooled
½ cup granulated sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
1) Heat your oven to 350 degrees and lightly spray 3 (6-cavity) doughnut pans with non-stick spray
2) In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, sea salt, cinnamon and grated nutmeg. Set aside.
3) In a standing mixer, cream together the 16 Tbsp butter and both sugars on medium speed until and light and fluffy, 3 to 4 minutes.
4) Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing until well incorporated, scraping the bowl as necessary. Beat in the vanilla paste.
5) Add the dry mix and mix on low speed until just incorporated. With the mixer running, add the apple cider in a slow stream and mix to combine.
6) Using a disposable piping bag, pipe the batter into the pans, filling each cavity about 2/3 full. Bake one pan at a time for 9 minutes, rotate the pan, and bake for another 3-4 until evenly golden brown and just starting to pull away from the edges of the cavities. Cool in the pans for 5 minutes and then unmold the donuts onto a wire rack.
7) While the donuts are baking, melt the additional 6 Tbsp butter and set aside. Whisk together the sugar and cinnamon in a medium bowl. After unmolding the donuts, brush them on both sides with the melted butter and then toss them in the cinnamon/sugar while still warm. Serve immediately, or at room temperature.
