Go nuts for donuts

I follow @OnlyInBOS on Twitter. It’s no great shakes – as we used to say (only in Worcester?)  – but they do come up with an occasional tidbit of interest.

The other day the tidbit (munchkin?) of interest was this:

Boston has one donut shop for every 2,480 people, the most donut shops per capita than anywhere else in the world.

I’m pretty sure that this is because we’re the home, the ur source, of Dunkin Donuts. Actually, the first DD was in Quincy, which is right next door, but Boston vs. Quincy is a quibble. There are Dunks everywhere in this city.

i couldn’t find a count for Boston, but a few years ago there were 1,150 statewide, outnumbering the near ubiquitous CVS stores, which weighed in at 356 across the Commonwealth.

(I will note that, a few years back, Krispy Kreme tried to make inroads into this area. They had to beat a retreat for lack of interest. I tried one and found it way too sweet. Which is an amazing thing to say, because Dunks are not exactly un-sweet.)

Anyway, Dunkin and I go back a long way.

When I was a kid, Sunday morning meant a trip to the Dunks in Webster Square, just down the street from our church. Quite convenient. My father had a sweet tooth, and on Sundays, he’d pick up a dozen donuts. Which, over the years, became a dozen and a half. Which finally culminated with him buying 2 dozen. Which our family would consume over the course of the morning while we read the newspapers.

While we were in Webster Square, we’d make a stop at Maury’s Delicatessen to pick up the cold cuts and French bread required for the sandwiches that were our staple Sunday supper. Sunday was the only time when we ate with the TV on: Rocky and Bullwinkle, followed by College Bowl. (No wonder we all ended up with quirky senses of humor and minds chock-full of useless knowledge.)

Donuts in the morning and sandwiches in the evening bracketed Sunday dinner, which was always roast something, mashed potatoes and gravy.

Please note that these three meals were consumed between 9:30 a.m. and 5:30 p.m. Amazing that the Rogers kids are all still alive to tell the tale.

But, donuts.

I must have anticipated that Only In Boston tweet, because that morning, having served breakfast at St. Francis House, I stopped at the kitty-corner Dunk for a chocolate glazed (didn’t these used to be called chocolate honey dip?) and iced coffee (pretty much the only way I drink coffee) with skim. (Skim is a well known offset to a donut’s calorie count.)

While I think of this donut consumption as a rare occurrence, something I almost never do, I have to confess that I had also indulged a week earlier. Again, I had been coming off of a breakfast shift at SFH, only that time I tied my donut to a longish walk to Blackbird Doughnuts in the South End. (Doughnuts?Aren’t we fancy…)

Blackbird has really wonderful donuts. Make that doughnuts. As they should be at four bucks a pop.

As is my wont, I got a chocolate glazed, and walked home savoring every precious crumb of it.

There are other donut episodes.

When I do a Saturday night stay at my sister Trish’s, she often makes a run to Coffee Time, which makes its own quite excellent donuts. (Plus fabulous birthday cakes and Pączkis (poosh-kies).) The excellent donut she gets for  me: chocolate glaze.

Other than that, I really don’t eat all that many donuts. Other than when someone (retired judge Paul T: Munchkins, or still working BFD District Chief Jerry: a combo of muffins and bespoke donuts from a fabulous bakery on the South Shore) brings a box or two into the gym.

Now, you may find it odd that someone would bring donuts and muffins into a gym, but my gym is mostly a physical therapist, and PT folks (Paul T: back, Jerry: knee) deserve treats.

Anyway, I’m a pretty casual donut consumer, but when I think about it, I do tend to eat plenty of them in the course of a year. So I guess it’s no surprise that we’re champion donut consumers.

Go nuts for donuts!

One more thing that makes Boston so great.