Some mornings the donut fairy comes to the kitchen at NCPR and I arrive to find a festive box in pastel colors so happy they are nearly radioactive. Me, too. Visible through the lid is an array of donuts frosted in colors, some of which–through the miracles of chemistry and marketing–are exact Pantone matches for the ink colors in the packaging. We live in a time of wonders.
But I can’t say that I am down with modern thinking on donut decoration. A bit of a traditionalist, me. When you put a dollop of frosting and a dusting of sprinkles on top of a glazed donut, it begs the question, “Why did you put a cupcake in the deep fryer?” And of course, I am too manly a man to consume a donut with pink frosting. Not while anyone is looking.
And I have traditional tastes in filling—red jelly, Bavarian creme, chocolate creme, lemon creme, apple—all lovely. That gooey white stuff? Plain sugar is supposed to go on the outside.
So I’m somewhat picky in my selection. But once one commits to a donut, eat the whole donut. By the afternoon at NCPR, the box is half-filled with half donuts. Really. If it’s about health and diet, eat a carrot. Or eat a whole donut half as often.
That’s what I tell myself I am doing, but I notice that I tell myself that every time a box shows up, rather than half the time–so my math needs a little work. In fact, I am giving serious thought to going for a second donut. That chocolate cruller has a seductive shine. Maybe two donuts one-fourth as often?