Food: A Love Story (38 page)

DOUGHNUTS: THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

Cops love doughnuts. Ha, ha, ha. Cops and doughnuts. They go together like, well, doughnuts and cops. I find this an interesting stereotype, because you know who else loves doughnuts?
Absolutely everyone. “Yeah, we’ll get those cops back for having power by saying they love that thing everyone else loves.” Of course cops love doughnuts, because they know the difference between right and wrong. And not liking doughnuts is wrong. Have you ever met someone who doesn’t like doughnuts? Of course not, because those people are in jail. The cops probably caught them murdering puppies because they never knew the love of the doughnut. As ridiculous as the cop-doughnut cliché is, I will admit that I’m always excited when I see a police officer in a doughnut shop. I feel as though an angel has just gotten its wings. Maybe I’m just high from the smell of the doughnuts.

Many mysteries surround doughnuts. I think it was Plato who struggled over the question “What is the difference between seeing a doughnut and wanting to eat a doughnut?” The answer is, of course, “One second.” We all know seeing a doughnut happens occasionally. Wanting a doughnut is a continuous desire. See, now even you want a doughnut. I had a doughnut recently. I was with my friend Tom and we were walking by a doughnut shop, and I asked him if he wanted to get a doughnut. He responded that he wasn’t hungry. Understandably I replied, “What does that have to do with it?” As if there has ever been a good reason to eat a doughnut. “My doctor says I need more powdered sugar in my diet. Well, another day on the doughnut cleanse.” Everyone knows doughnuts are bad for you. Whenever I eat a doughnut I always think to myself,
Looks like I’ll never know what it’s like to be a grandpa.
Of course I am aware that doughnuts are bad, horrible things to eat, and according to my health-nut wife, they are not appropriate for a trail mix. I’ve repeatedly tried to explain to Jeannie that I’m on a different trail. Mine leads to the emergency room. Trail mixes have nuts, and my favorite nut is most definitely a doughnut.

There is no nutritional value in a doughnut. There may be
the odd study that found somehow that chocolate and wine can help you live longer, but no one even contemplates doing a study about the doughnut. The doughnut is all about taste. In Los Angeles there is a doughnut shop chain named Yum-Yum Donuts. The name cuts right to the chase. I suppose you need an IQ of maybe two to understand the concept. “Yum, yum? Me like yum, yum!” I imagine their target audience is cavemen. “Me know yellow fireball rise in sky, and Yum-Yum Donut.”

Dunkin’ Donuts

You can’t really discuss doughnuts in the United States without bringing up the omnipresent Dunkin’ Donuts. Many cities have their own local doughnut shop or chain, but they usually always also have a Dunkin’ Donuts. In New England, Dunkin’ Donuts is not just a local favorite. It is engrained in the New England provincial identity. “Dunkie’s” is a favorite son. It seems like New Englanders view that doughnut shop like a relative or a childhood friend. “Dunkie’s is awesome. It’s wicked awesome!” They are so passionate and vocal at times, it makes me question whether Dunkin’ Donuts is making doughnuts or playing for the Red Sox.

I like Dunkin’ Donuts, and judging from the fact that there is a Dunkin’ Donuts on every city block in most major cities of the United States, I am not alone. This is not to say that Dunkin’ Donuts shops are the most appealing destinations. I don’t think I’ve been to a Dunkin’ Donuts that didn’t have a homeless guy standing in front of it. It’s possibly part of the design plans. I picture the architect showing his model to a prospective franchisee. “There will be an entrance here with a deranged lunatic standing outside.” Maybe they find the lunatic first. “Hey, there’s a guy living in a cardboard box who
is yelling about the end of the world. Why don’t we put a Dunkin’ Donuts there?” Either way, there’s always some character standing at the entrance of Dunkin’ Donuts serving as a freelance Ronald McDonald. “Welcome to Dunkin’ Donuts. Can you spare some change?”

Dunkin’ Donuts may be the most successful doughnut chain, but all doughnut shops are generally an interesting concept. It’s almost as if Alcoholics Anonymous opened their own restaurant. “What should we have at our place? Coffee … doughnuts … maybe a little honesty! And definitely a place to smoke outside.” I’ve never really understood how Dunkin’ Donuts stays in business. Of course, they sell coffee, but even if they sell three thousand doughnuts in one day, what would they make, thirty bucks? Additionally, whenever I go into a Dunkin’ Donuts, it seems like they’re always trying to get rid of the doughnuts. Allow me to recount my recent visit to Dunkin’ Donuts:

ME:
I’ll have six doughnuts.

DOUGHNUT LADY:
That’ll be three dollars. But if you get a dozen, it’s a nickel.

ME:
A nickel more?

DOUGHNUT LADY:
No, just a nickel.

I heard a rumor that if you get two dozen doughnuts, Dunkin’ Donuts gives you five bucks. Okay, fine. Maybe they aren’t paying us to eat them, but it does seem like Dunkin’ Donuts is trying to get us addicted to doughnuts.

Whenever I buy a couple of doughnuts for the family—well, for me, really—the Dunkin’ Donuts lady always throws in some Munchkins for free. Munchkins are like the gateway doughnut. Like a classic drug dealer, Dunkin’ Donuts follows “the first time is always free” rule. At some point during
my adult life, Dunkin’ Donuts absorbed the ice cream parlor Baskin-Robbins. Dunkin’ Donuts and Baskin-Robbins are a marriage made in obesity. I guess the marketing idea was that Dunkin’ Donuts could finally offer dessert.

Krispy Kreme

Over the past decade or two, doughnuts have witnessed a rebirth in popularity. When I was a kid, a doughnut seemed like this unattainable item that grown-ups would eat in offices and occasionally at gatherings after church. While that hasn’t changed at all, doughnuts do seem more popular. We all witnessed the Krispy Kreme wave as it overtook the nation and then suddenly disappeared. At first, Krispy Kremes were so popular that several years ago some friends of ours, Chris and Emily, gave out entire boxes of Krispy Kremes as the parting gift at their wedding. I ate the whole box on the way home. Biting into a Krispy Kreme is a unique experience. The doughnuts melt in your mouth so easily that for a short time I tried to convince Jeannie they were a liquid. “I’m thirsty. I think I’ll have a doughnut.” Then out of nowhere Krispy Kreme doughnut shops disappeared. Of course they didn’t completely disappear, but their presence diminished significantly. It is possible that a group of district attorneys threatened a class-action lawsuit.

Portland

Many American cities have great doughnut shops, but Portland, Oregon, seems to have a vibrant doughnut obsession. I don’t know if this has to do with its geographic proximity to coffee-obsessed Seattle or its—well, let’s just say—“late-night eating” culture. Whenever I announce that I’ll be performing in Portland, my Twitter feed is peppered with advice to go to
Voodoo Doughnut. Often the comments are not suggestions but demands. “You have to go!” “If you don’t go, I’ll kill you.” The actual word
voodoo
means something like “mysterious forces or powers that govern the world and the lives of those who reside within it,” which is pretty much the same way I feel about the power of an actual doughnut. Voodoo Doughnut has a doughnut called “Captain My Captain” that has Cap’n Crunch cereal on top of a doughnut. I call it the “Mutiny of My Diet Doughnut.” At Voodoo, I always get the maple-bacon doughnut and then nap in the cab back to my hotel. Well, it’s more of a “passing out in a sugar coma” than a nap, but you get the idea. Not to play favorites in destroying my health, I must also add that Voodoo Doughnut is not the only doughnut shop that Portland is known for. There is also Coco Donuts. At Coco’s I always get a lavender doughnut so I can feel fat AND fresh.

Tim Hortons

I love Canada, and Canada loves Tim Hortons. I’m no Canada expert, but I know they like their hockey, poutine, and Tim Hortons. Tim Hortons is the Canadian version of Dunkin’ Donuts, or maybe Dunkin’ Donuts is the American version of Tim Hortons. Either way, I’m applying for dual citizenship.

Gourmet Doughnut Shops

Gourmet doughnuts. Yes, gourmet doughnuts. I believe they are deep fried in gold. We can’t stop dressing up junk food. It started with the boutique cupcake shops. Now we have gourmet doughnuts. It’s an evolution. I can’t wait for the Sloppy Joseph. What will bored, rich people eat next?

Specialty, or gourmet, doughnut shops now can be found in
most major cities. I’m not sure how anything deep fried can be that “gourmet.” Gourmet doughnut shops are a perfect destination for those of us who want to waste money
while
we gain weight. I recently purchased a gourmet doughnut. At the time I didn’t realize I was buying a gourmet doughnut. I was in a doughnut shop. I suppose being in a doughnut shop never really leads to a healthy or smart purchase. You never hear, “I was in a doughnut shop and I found these great probiotics.” Anyway, there I was in a doughnut shop. I pointed at a square doughnut and told the doughnut guy, “I’ll have the square one.” As he started to ring it up on the cash register, he said, “That will be $3.99.” I politely said, “Oh, no, I only want one.” He then in a matter-of-fact manner informed me, “That
is
the price of one.” At that moment there was this long, awkward pause where the doughnut guy stared blankly at me and I waited for him to lean forward and say, “Just kidding.” But he didn’t. He just looked at me with a smug smile that said, “Got ya, tubby!” He knew I would pay for the doughnut because I was in a doughnut shop, and it’s not like I was there to buy a yoga mat. Like the great philosopher Plato, he knew the difference between seeing a doughnut and eating a doughnut is but one second.

HOUSE OF CARBS

A very important subsegment of the restaurant industry is breakfast restaurants. Well,
I
call them breakfast restaurants. Many of my single friends enjoy going out to fancy places for breakfast or brunch on weekends. They meet up, gossip, and giggle about the adventures they had the night before. I’m not talking about those places. I’m talking about the breakfast restaurants where I can take my five screaming children and feed them for around twenty dollars while I witness them do about forty dollars’ worth of damage to the establishment. These are usually chain restaurants that serve other meals besides breakfast, but breakfast made them famous because it’s the only thing anyone wants to eat there. You are more likely to get the pancakes than the veggie burger at the IHOP. You’d rather go to Denny’s for the Grand Slam breakfast than the avocado salad. You get the idea. I seem to be in chain breakfast restaurants either in the morning with my screaming children or late, late at night after shows with slurring adult-children. It’s really not that different of an atmosphere.

IHOP

The most famous breakfast restaurant chain is probably IHOP, which seems like a strange name for a place. Whenever I’ve eaten at IHOP, I never really feel like hopping. ICanBarelyMove feels more appropriate. Maybe INeedAWheelchair. The IHOP is famous for its pancakes, yet the entire restaurant seems like a syrup exhibit. Every table in IHOP is equipped with its own caddy filled with an assortment of syrups (maple, strawberry, blueberry, butter pecan, and boysenberry). Each of the syrup containers is personally licked by a similar assortment of five-year-olds. As a result of the syrup being preplaced on the table, there is not an inch of an International House of Pancakes that has not been touched by syrup, even the bathrooms. To prepare for the next morning, at the end of the night an IHOP employee even mops the floor with syrup.

Waffle House

My favorite of the breakfast restaurant chains is Waffle House.

Waffle House is similar to the International House of Pancakes, but instead of pancakes they serve waffles. I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but the Waffle House vibe feels more like that of a halfway house or a mobile home than an actual house. I’ll never forget the first time I walked into a Waffle House. It was in Tampa, Florida, in 1989. All I could think was
Wow, I owe the IHOP an enormous apology
. The moment you enter most Waffle Houses, you get the sense the staff stopped caring a long time ago or never did. You’ll never hear “Nice job cleaning up” in a Waffle House. If you’ve never had the chance to visit a Waffle House, simply imagine
a gas station bathroom that serves waffles. That sums up the atmosphere pretty well.