The Trouble with Krispy Kreme Donuts

doughnuts.gifI had my very first Krispy Kreme donut in Florida. The chain originated in the south. There was nothing like it, and once you’ve had a Krispy Kreme donut, you’re pretty much spoiled for good. There wasn’t one in Naples, so I didn’t make a very regular diet of them there, but out of town I’d often be greeted by the Hot Doughnuts Now sign, and veer off my path to get one.

When I moved to Ft. Lauderdale, where, in spite of the body-conscious scene, there were Krispy Kremes everywhere. I resisted as much as I could, but I’m only human, and after being out at the bars, driving home, I’d see one in the distance, flashing, beckoning. HOT. DOUGHNUTS. NOW. I’d relent. My roommate, Chad and I would get a half-dozen – three each – and have them devoured before we’d arrived home. Two miles away.

krispy_kreme_glazed_doughnut.jpgFor those of you who don’t know what this means: it’s when the original glazed donut is riding down a conveyor belt, still very warm, and it passes through a curtain of Krispy Kreme’s trademark sweet, white glaze, which covers it from perimeter to thumb-sized hole like silk before drying clear, like you see here. The orders are then filled right off the conveyor, and into the box, again, still warm and soft, like love.

When you’re in the South, and there are a lot of Krispy Kremes around, it’s hard to curb one’s urges for compulsive glazed, or maple, or chocolate iced cream filled feasts, especially after some cocktails at 2am, so suffice it to say that by the time I left Ft. Lauderdale, I had had a lot of Krispy Kremes.

When I moved west to L.A., Krispy Kremes were just a part of Southern mythology that my waistline was happy to leave behind, and luckily for me, there were no Krispy Kremes here, at first. But soon, the sensation spread, Krispy Kremes became all the (guilty) rage, and my original glazed demon had found me, everywhere: in Ralphs, in KK stores, being delivered to offices, everywhere. I held back for a while, knowing the consequences of the indulgence, but rushing in where pilates instructors fear to tread, and they were as delicious as I remembered.

Ever since I discovered a Krispy Kreme in Burbank, it’s been a place I have visited, but without any regularity. Cue the confession. In the past couple of months, I’ve been using my zig-zag diet cheat days to make a beeline for Krispy Kreme, eating dozens of them, literally: original glazed mostly but a couple of cream filled, and savoring them twice as much when the blinking sign was on, and they have been delicious. In these past few dozens, I have also noticed a curious phenomenon: my trips to KK have become more frequent, I’ve brought them to friends and colleagues like a drug pusher, and I’ve bought them on Friday afternoon to get the earliest possible jump on them on Saturday.

But most striking is that in abundance, they’re not nearly as satisfying. In order to get that Krispy bliss that used to spill over me like that curtain of glaze after just one, or maybe two, now it takes three or more for the same sugar rush, and before I knew it, I’d plowed through a dozen. What was once a treat now looks more like a Saturday food group. It’s a mindless routine.

I won’t incriminate Sam in any of this, so I’ll only say ‘I’, but I gotta tell you, I’ve put away a few dozen in a very short time, and I don’t feel good about it. They haven’t affected me physically; as far as I can tell, but I definitely have to put in extra work to make sure that continues to be so. Extra indulgence. Extra work. Like I don’t have enough work to do, or work hard enough already (in and out of the gym). Between the guilt of the pleasure, the lack of dietary integrity, and the extra work I have to do to minimize their morning-after effect, that makes them pretty much – no, totally – a wash. Net zero. So I’ve started to ask, “Why bother?” Sigh.

As they say, “Never again is what you swore the time before,” and I can’t say that I’ll never have another Krispy Kreme. They are delicious, and rooted in my psyche and identity. They’re probably a very good way for me to practice discipline and moderation, two things at which I’ve never been very skilled. I know there will be times when I really crave one or six, and really miss that unique warm deliciousness. Sometimes I’ll give in and veer from my path, headed for Krispy Kreme, in simultaneously hoping and dreading that the HOT DOUGHNUTS NOW sign will be on, blinking relentlessly – doubtlessly heading me back to that high, low, and ultimately net zero, yet again. Funny how even the smallest dragon, the one you’re certain you can rein in, can still be a bitch to slay.


6 Responses to “The Trouble with Krispy Kreme Donuts”

  1. 1 MrsWaltz
    Monday, February 11, 2008 at 10:49 am

    Okay, I know you’re not a math guy, but you’re a logic guy, so I’ll make this easy:
    1) Krispy Kreme doughnuts (do not equal) love
    2) Actually, KK doughnuts = evil. (All right, that might be extreme, but I’m not a glazed doughnut girl.)
    3)Now, Dunkin’ Donuts’ Boston creme-filled –> (approach) love. They don’t quite get there, but if love’s not within reach, these ought to be.

  2. 2 Jonathan
    Monday, February 11, 2008 at 12:08 pm

    Doughnuts are not love.
    They’re sex. Cheap, dirty, clothes-ripped-off -and-partner-pushed-against-the-wall sex. Just look at the shape of them. I’m not even going to go into the whole concept of the crème-filled doughnut—my nipples are hard enough already.

  3. 3 Rod
    Monday, February 11, 2008 at 2:22 pm

    Whenever I went back east to visit family, we always referred to Krispy Kreme as “the Devil’s food.” Placed here on earth only to lead to temptation and to release all inhibitions. One bite and you are forever captured and corrupted by its sinful indulgence. I, too, find it hard not to be tempted, especialy when working on a set and craft service always has two or three boxes of assorted doughnuts delivered to the set every morning. I did have my own watchdog to “guilt” me from staying away, but I don’t know if she’ll be back. I also had been doing well being away from them but now with the strike ending and getting back to work, I can almost taste that sugary glaze just thinking about it. I’m praying for strength.

  4. Monday, February 11, 2008 at 3:11 pm

    God, it’s good to know I’m not alone. 🙂

  5. Monday, February 11, 2008 at 7:51 pm

    Gotta say that KK is incredible. But, for many years when I lived outside of Death-troit,
    we would anticipate with slobber Fat Tuesday when we could have Paczki…pronounced: poonch-key.
    Luckily for me, the president of our company, Ryan, was raised outside of Detroit (and Arabia!) and loves the
    sweet as much as I ever did. This past Fat Tuesday,Ryan had delivered…from outside of Detroit…3 dozen paczki!
    I ate two in quick succession. The best donut-like piece of Heaven that I have ever had! If you haven’t had them…you just don’t know. However, by eating them, I suddenly decided to observe lent by giving up desserts for 40 days! So far so good. And you know what? To have 2 pacski was worth it!

    P.S. Wanna see?

  6. Wednesday, February 13, 2008 at 6:59 pm

    mmm when I was in the U.S. there was nothing better for us than a night of heavy partying followed by a stop at a convinience store which sold Krispy Kreme Donuts…and I think they’re not evil…they are magical: I think they absorbed all the booze away or something, But I know next day I’d always wake up without a hangover…I miss them so much 😦

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