Hello Donut, My Old Friend.
Have you ever had one of those days, when things were going so wrong you decided to dive into the cookie jar for a little sugarcoated peace of mind, only to realize you’ve soon devoured every sweet treat in sight—including a few packs of gum and some leftover granola? I had one this past weekend.
It started out like any other day. I woke up, fed my cat and parked myself in front of the TV for a little morning Netflix bender. But, before I even had a chance to brush my teeth, things started to go very, very wrong. First, my cat decided to have a mild freak out, which ended with a glass of water cascading across my notebooks and laptop. Then, I once again scolded myself in the shower, due to the shit plumbing in my apartment. And finally, to top it all off, my morning ended with a text informing me the cookout I had planned on attending that afternoon had officially been cancelled.
Hand. Meet cookie jar.
For most, a little sugar would seem like a rather fitting way to deal with this rash of rapid-fire disappointments. Well, luckily for normal people, they don’t have to deal with the crippling sugar addiction I’ve been cursed with. One cookie turns into two, which turns into ten and before you know it, I’ve just said, “Fuck it,” and given up on the day. So, as you can imagine, things started to deteriorate rather rapidly. And when there are no more sweets left within the confines of my studio apartment, I realize it’s time to look outward.
That’s when I remembered I hadn’t visited one of my all-time favorite LA establishments, Donut Friend, in quite awhile. Aiming to correct this horrid mistake, I threw on some clothes and began my journey to the northeast. As I sat in traffic, I began to contemplate my choice of ingredients; carefully plotting out the right blend of sweet and salty that would satiate my hunger and finally put an end to my cravings—at least for the time being.
Sure, I could go in and order one of their pre-made donuts. But, that would be far too easy. And besides, I’d probably end up ordering one as an appetizer anyway. I prefer to go the customized route to ensure I hit all my favorite flavors.
With my mind made up and the store in sight, my mouth began to water before I even crossed the street. For anyone who hasn’t had the pleasure of visiting this cozy little establishment, I’ll simply describe it as a confectionary paradise. As soon as you enter the front door, you’re greeted with a large glass display, filled with row upon row of gooey, chocolaty, nut-covered, marshmallow-filled, mind-numbingly perfect rings of goodness.
As an expert connoisseur, however, I quickly passed up this delightful display and headed toward the register to place my order. Then, in a moment of panic, I realized I had left my glasses in the passenger seat of my car. The menu was a complete blur! How on earth would I place the perfect order? The one I had so carefully concocted in my head on the drive over? Could it be done? …I had to try.
A traditional glazed donut with banana, chocolate, peanut butter, caramel sauce, marshmallow and pistachio…
Success! I had overcome the moment of heart-stopping terror and recited my order without missing a beat. Now came the best part—watching them actually craft my ideal donut. Sure, one might think it a fairly mundane task to place a list of ingredients into and atop a donut. But in the hands of an expert, it becomes a thing of pure beauty. Don’t believe me? Watch as they ever-so-gently swirl a thick coating of rich chocolate glaze around the top of a freshly baked donut and you’ll quickly change your mind.
After they assembled my soon-to-be piece of heaven, I made a judgment call (One I had earlier predicted) and ordered a S’morrissey for good measure. A chocolate cake donut filled with toasted marshmallow and topped with chocolate glaze and graham cracker crumbs, I knew it had my name written all over it from the second I entered the room.
I gathered up my newfound confidants and took them outside for a little bonding. After finding a seat nearby, I quickly introduced them to my mouth and then my belly. Yet, unlike most sweets that I tend to shovel in by the handful, these particular confections called out for a more reserved approach. So, with knife and fork in hand, I slowly dissected them, savoring each and every bite as if it were my last. And before too long, I had finally reached that very moment; one I had dreaded, but one I was so overjoyed to have experienced.
Once finished, I took in some people watching before disposing of my utensils and venturing back to my car. Along the way, I momentarily found myself bobbing my head to the beat of a passing car’s bass-heavy sound system. It was in that very moment I realized that while the day may have started out in a less than ideal manner; it certainly ended in the most flawless of ways—a belly full of donuts from a place that’s truly a friend indeed.