Hey, you told me that was a Denny’s
I was on tumblr at work, minding my own business, when this picture stopped me in my tracks:
Eventually I picked my tongue up off the F7 key, noticed that the said picture was attached to an article on the Boston Globe’s website, and thought what any person thinks when they see text under a picture of battered o’s: “TELL ME MORE ABOUT THESE DELICIOUS DONUT-Y MORSELS.”
“… Above the brown booths and pale countertop is a large white board, listing over 60 varieties of doughnuts. And you cannot escape the alluring scent of fresh rounds in hot oil. These confections are not your typical gobs of sweet dough. They are a kind of inspired cuisine.
A lemon ricotta number topped with a fresh raspberry glaze has a pleasing mouth-feel. That’s what the Maglarases aim for. Every round is handmade from a buttermilk-based cake batter. Ann melts her own chocolate for the chocolate doughnuts — “no mixes here,” she says — and crafts all the glazes on site, from the candied bacon to the chai. “I steep the tea. I mean, who does that?” she says. “I must either love it or be crazy. Maybe a little of both.
There is a level of artistry and whimsy to Maglaras’s creations. She makes plenty of standard doughnuts, including a simple plain and a scrumptious sweet potato, but there are also inventions such as the “Fatty Arbuckle” (a whoopie pie doughnut with peanut butter glaze), the “Drop-Kick Murphy” (a chocolate doughnut with Bailey’s Irish Cream), the “Jamaican Me Crazy” (bananas and cornflakes), and the “Sequin Jumpsuit” (Elvis’s favorite: chocolate, peanut butter, and banana).
“I get bored easily,” admits Maglaras, whose list of flavors is ever-growing. She recalls one unique construction: the “Margarita,” glazed with Jose Cuervo, sea salt, and lime. “Oh, what a good doughnut… ”
SWEET JESUS! Wait…is that a ‘Cac reference?
”… And despite the struggling economy and a population drop in town, their little spot is flourishing, especially on weekends when families and students from nearby Colby and Thomas colleges and local folks fill up the old lacquered pine chairs and vinyl booths… “
Colby, you knew about the Drop-Kick Murphy this whole time and you didn’t tell me?! I thought we were friends. FRIENDS SHARE. So you know what? I am taking YOUR friendship charm, and I am throwing it in the DIRT.
Oh? What’s that you say? We were never friends, but are more accurately mismatched rivals due to the clear superiority of Bowdoin? (Forbes what is Forbes I’ve never heard of Forbes). Sucks. To. Suck.
Guess I will be driving to Fairfield by myself. Maybe even for brunch. On a Tuesday. Fatty Arbuckle, get in me!