The Columnist Manifesto

I last saw my beloved coffee mug at the sink next to the coffee machine at work; I mistakenly left it there, and it vanished. It had a cartoon of a pile of donuts -- they looked positively cuddly -- with the caption: "Did somebody mention donuts?"

Janelle mentioned donuts on Friday. Well, sort of. Meanwhile, many miles away, I was stopping at my favorite donut shop just as they were putting out a fresh batch of glazed raised donuts. You know -- the kind everyone thinks of when they think of Krispy Kreme.

I realized two things as I bit into this donut. First, I would immediately have to order two more. Second, the difference between this donut when hot and fresh versus this donut when at room temperature is like the difference between hot buttered toast and cool, congealed-buttered toast.

Words can't express the experience of eating this perfect donut. It had a melted-buttery taste, the most exquisite hint of crispiness mixed in with the expected soft doughiness, and it smelled like just-out-of-the-oven bread.

And the weird thing is: it made me want to slice it in half, bagelwise, and put a cheeseburger between the two halves. And eat it of course.



Yes, for the first time I understood what it means to want the "Luther Burger," a/k/a "Baseball's Best Burger," a/k/a "World's Unhealthiest Burger."*

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*The latter link, to the CBS news story, has a photo making the burger look like a medical procedure rather than a food item. I suppose that was intentional.