I was going to maybe go off on a little tire-ade about cyclists, hence the title, but I realized I did that within the last six weeks or so and as much as I repeat myself, that's a little recent even for me. Even if it wasn't, I'm not sure it was a wheely good idea anyway.
So I've come round to another topic, namely doughnuts. Not many abide by that classic (and more descriptive) spelling, and I'm often tempted to ignore it in favor of the colloquialism that is donut, but I'm going to draw an arbitrary distinction that seems to have been adopted anyway: doughnut=high-end, donut=more mass-produced. That is not to say I prefer doughnut over donut (though I certainly do on a number of occasions), merely that this is the distinction.
Like many, I'd long enjoyed the donut, and there was a time friends and I would wait until 2am for the fresh batch to roll out at a local Dunkin' in order to grab strawberry frosted and other treats. A Dunkin Donut fresh out of the oven? Pretty darn good. But most don't bake on site, and so you get less-than-fresh donuts. This is a recipe for disappointment. The other popular entrant is Krispy Kreme, which I find to be a touch too sweet, but I still can appreciate a soft glazed. The thing is, I prefer cake donuts. Or, to be fair, probably cake doughnuts. That hasn't stopped me from consuming many a Jewel offering or, further back, Price Chopper, but given a choice I'll up the cost.
In Chicago, there seem to be two choices for high-end doughnuts, though I haven't exactly done a lot of research. They are Glazed and Infused and The Doughnut Vault. I will say, that my preference is for the former, judging only the glazed cake doughnut. Glazed's offering has the distinction of actually tasting of buttermilk, which I happen to enjoy. Doughnut Vault tastes, to me, more like a pancake. But wait, is buttermilk not often a type of pancake? This is correct, and yet because the Glazed offering tastes less sweet, I prefer it.
But from that exciting topic, I was struck by the interesting social phenomena unfolding around me as I waited for a doughnut this morning, in line at DV. Waiting for a doughnut was really foolish enough, but soaking in the ambience was good for me. Plus they brew the Metropolis Spice Island well. As the wait is long, it would be quite natural to perhaps strike up conversation with others around you but, perhaps by virtue of the types of people a boutique doughnut window attracts, none of these interactions came off as natural. The bungling man five people ahead of me who wanted to get cred for identifying the music playing and then giving credit to the women working there, as if his opinion should matter. Just take your doughnuts my friend, and be on your way. Or the girl in front of me who tried so to give off an insouciant cool. Says the asshole who just typed "cred."
Rather than hate these people as I might have done in the past — or simply on a different day — I feel bad for them. I would hope they could traverse the world without great nervousness and fear, especially when undergoing what should be the pleasurable act of doughnut purchase (although I suppose consumption trumps purchase for pleasure). Were that is was so easy.
I was just thinking how there used to be at least a touch more humor imbued in this here old blog. Note to self to bring a bit of that back.
Where has September gone? I simply donut know...
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