Today is National Donut Day. Officially, it is a day to honor the women who served donuts to soldiers during World War II. In practice it’s about donuts. That means to me that this holiday, like Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, or Father’s Day, seems to be a bit of a “duh” holiday. A day designed for those who need a kick in the pants to appreciate a special part of their daily life. We should appreciate our partners and our parents every day. However, our busy lives and self absorbed ways have forced us to smack a date on our calendar to remember to do this. Now, the delightful inner tube of joy is suffering a similar fate. We mindlessly pull into a Dunkin’s or Krispy Kreme, grab a donut, and consume it one-handed as we ponder today’s agenda or last nights worries. The donut has become an item of convenience. We take it for granted and, in doing so, we have lost sight of how wondrous and varied this confection is.
My husband and I are not big Valentine’s Day people. We’ve worked hard to make sure that we feel valued and appreciated in our relationship always; Hallmark can go pawn their junk elsewhere. However, in late January the bombardment of plastic hearts and bad chocolate is hard to ignore. One day after running errands, I brought up Valentine’s Day junk, this segued into a discussion of useless holidays, this segued into a discussion of undervalued items, this led, as so many conversations with my husband do, to a conversation about donuts.
My husband’s love of donuts runs deep. He is always on the search for the transcendent creme filled donut. Five years ago he initiated a donut tour to take in the donut shops of the greater Lowell area. Now our conversation got him thinking about Donut Tour Redux – More donuts! More locations! More people! He hit the internet and planned our route. Then he hit the phones and assembled a fearless group of culinary adventures. We planned a date. Visions of jelly cremes danced in our heads.