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Entries in donuts (1)


A Donut for All Times

For some reason the other day I was thrown back to memories of acquiring and eating Spaulding Kruller donuts. I think it's because it's been a helluva work week. Nose to the grindstone and all that.

I just googled "Spaulding Kruller" and found a couple of other blog entries from people who grew up in upstate New York who remembered them equally fondly. They were a medium-sized donut that came in a red, white and blue (or was it just red and white)-striped box. But the kicker was the white sugar coating. It wasn't all powdery and flaky and soft, but rather more "together." I remember eating the sugar off the donut first, in strips, from the top center of the donut down to its butt and then all the way around. And then I'd eat the naked little dough part. Kind of like twisting open an Oreo and scraping off the white filling first.

Even more than the donut, though, I recall the process of going to buy the donut. I  remember walking down my street and across the bridge over the river and down the Main street to the store to buy them. Sometimes I rode my bike with the turquoise seat. Often without my parents' knowing, or at least I think they didn't. Sometimes my friend Mary and I would go together and share them on the walk back, leaning on the rusty railing of the iron bridge. Sometimes I'd eat them all myself. I'd hide them when I got home, counting how many were left before I tucked the box away and swearing revenge on any who disturbed them.

They were clandestine Kruller's. A guilty pleasure. And one whose sugary solace still stirs my soul.