The Midas Touch
A faded, plastic ring meant to signify crispy batter, sagged above the ordinary, almost invisible font, “Golden Donut,” and reminded me more of buying tires than eating sweets, but this covert treasure squeezed four fundamentals of baking into their shoebox-sized shop (quality, freshness, variety and price) like jelly into a...
We walked into a smell of confections so strong that I rushed to shut the door, its precious scent escaping like heat from a house in winter. Pepto- Bismal colored counters stretched along glass cases with apartment levels of diverse pleasure (all with appetite-accessible floor plans) and the penthouse boasted the best.
Two of my favorite words - “butter” and “milk”- together formed the title of my top contender in the pastry arena. Mini-loaves, the size of individual cornbreads, were the most indulgent and most addictive piece of dough around.
Buttermilk serving suggestions:
plain: could I get away with using these as rolls at my next dinner party?
…and only $3.85 for a box of six, it was clear that my accomplice and I would be sticky sick with sugar highs before the day was through.
With a knowledgeable air of a tenured professor, the woman behind the counter pointed out and named each delight we questioned, using her tongs with practiced agility. “Move down if you want to talk,” she ordered other customers blocking the register, but it held a familial softness more like, “Shoo!,” from a mother whose children were underfoot while cooking.
Lenient with their selection (i.e. buttermilks count as a donut in the six-pack), the box filled up fast with powdered raspberry jam, chocolate icing and cinnamon sugar. Mini chocolate and vanilla donuts flaunted high-end accessories like nuts and rainbow sprinkles for the same effect of a string bikini - attention whores (better throw them in the box too*.)
*Warning- Do not try Golden Donut if you have any plans of dieting soon. It will ruin you for swimsuit season.