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by Kaya Styn
I always wanted to be the Dad.
One simple reason. Four simple words:
My mom would dance in the house, holding the magical pepto-bismo colored pink box as if it were as holy as Frankincense and Myrrh. Finally, she was home from the ferocious donut hunt...still perspiring from the fast-paced decisions made to compile the perfect combination from the myriad of dough delights.
(Gimmie a glazed, quick.... NOT THE PINK ONE!!, HOW MANY DO I HAVE LEFT, FASTER DAMNIT!!... AAUGH! I NEED MAPLE BARS!!!!!)
She laid out the donuts on the table like a deep-fried sculpture...glistening from the rising sun.
Their brown, beige, and pink coats taunted us as we waited for our tribal elder, our donut chief to make his selection. We waited in silence, our stomachs yearning for a taste of the delicious fried dough and sugar. Like a king choosing his mistress for the night, he would arrogantly examine all of the luscious offerings. Then the choice would be made.... the crown jewel of the donut domain, the most sacred of the dozen, the largest and most menacing donut to ever find itself tamed by modern man. The APPLE FRITTER. It's not a "donut".... it's a "FRITTER".
Donut seemed so common in comparison -- a low-class breakfast.
Whereas the fritter looked down on the others like prince to a pauper.
The Donut was cabby, blue-collar breakfast, while fritter was for royalty... from a baker, not a deep-fry cook.
Donut (or "doughnut") sounds like the male version of "yeast infection"!?..... um, I'm sorry for straying.
Perhaps this example best illustrates my point:
"Would you like a donut?" "Uh-huh."
"Would you like a fritter?" "Oui."
Enough said. Now that I have gained wisdom and breakfast pastry knowledge with my age, I realize the fritter was just bigger. It wasn't so fancy, it was just so damn big. So much apple, so much sugar, so much goopy stuff. I was intimidated and confused by its
dizzying mass.
It has become clear to me now that the CRULLER is truly the Emperor of the Donut Mt. Olympus. I mean, what other donut has the Ancient Greek architecture of the cruller? It is like a squashed ionic column. Perfect in shape and design. Fit for Caesar himself.
Someday I will have first choice of donut. Someday I will rule the feast. But until then, I think I'll stick to muffins (the hierarchy is much easier to figure out).
Bleed: A Tale of Fluid Loss
Teen Sex Flicks
and "Having a Blast!"
Kaya is Halcyon's brother and the funniest MoFo on the planet.
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Prehensile Tales wonders how donuts became a part of this well balanced breakfast. |
Copyright © 1997 Prehensile Tales.
