The Living Daylights

Last Thursday, after a meeting at the University of Indianapolis, I drove further south on 135 to visit Daylight Donuts.  Years ago, when I lived off Stop 11, I used to frequent this place and it was good to be back to the familiar smells.

When I walked into Daylight, I found a young guy behind the counter who was eager to serve me up some of his remaining breakfast fare (it was past noon).  "I'm here for a donut," I announced as I ambled up to the glass display case.  "What's good?"

He waved a hand toward the six trays in the display case. One item in particular caught my eye.  "What's that porcupine-looking thing?" I asked.

"We call that a pine cone," he said.  'It's sort of like a cinnamon roll, but we fry it up in a stringy ball, douse it with sugar."

"Looks like your specialty," I said.

"Pine cones are popular.  Only have two left."

"Better give me one then," I said.  "I'd hate to miss out on something that unique."

"Just one?" he asked.

"One my good fellow!" 

He sacked it, told me I owed a dollar and twenty cents.  I handed him a fiver.  The more I looked at this thing though, the more I realized that it would take me an entire day to eat it all.  It was huge.  "How many calories do you think is in this thing?" I wondered aloud.

"I wouldn't know," he said.  "I don't think of things like that around here."

Ahhh, yes.  Denial.  But the kid was skinny.  I wondered if he'd ever eaten a donut in his life, and the tattoo parlor (SkinQuake) was next door.  I noted several tattooed ladies entering and exiting and one of them had a skull and snake inked into her neck.  I was glad to be into donuts instead of skin art.  Those skull women scare the living daylights out of me.  I couldn't imagine having a conversation with one of them.

Oh, but her name was Alexis.  And I offered her a piece of my pine cone.  Nice girl.  

The Donut Stereotype

We've all seen an ample supply of movies and news stories about police officers who enjoy donuts.  From the stereotype presented one would think that police officers sit around all day in squad cars enjoying powdered donuts.  Of course, we know this is not the case.  Police enjoy other kinds of donuts , too.  Chocolate covered, for example.

But the stereotype must die.  In point of fact, I've never seen a police officer eating a donut.  I've only seen pastors eating donuts.  

Me?  I eat my share, but even that doesn't hold up under closer scrutiny.  I don't eat donuts every day, although I can certainly eat a box if given the opportunity.

I never eat while driving, though.  I want my hands free so I can hold my wife's hand or send a text message.  I don't want to be eating a donut while I can be fiddling with the CD changer (old school) or pointing to scenery and shouting, "Look at that tree!  Have you ever in your life seen a groundhog as big as that one!?  Is it my imagination, or was that a dead Woolly Mammoth back there?!"

One of these days we will be able to shed ourselves of silly stereotypes and embrace the donut without prejudice.  The donut will be a uniting force for good, and everyone who drives a car will have a trunk full of them.

Until then remember . . . all things, including donuts, in moderation.   

We Have Donuts

Recently a speaking invitation came my way that included the note:  "We will have donuts."  Evidently, news of my arrival preceded me and there were preparations being made.

People who enjoy donuts don't necessarily have to eat them at every turn.  One of the reasons the donut remains a great treat:  it's scarcity.  Or, as they say: abscence makes the heart grow fonder.

The enjoyment of donuts should be built around scarcity rather than abundance.  And it is always a good practice to go in search of those donuts that one does not eat very often.  Few things give me a greater thrill than coming across a donut I have never seen before:  some unique fare that has me salivating in the line.

On Saturday morning my wife proposed donuts, but I declined.  I often decline many things that she proposes . . . in the sure and certain hope that abstenance will make the senses even sharper.

That's the way to truly enjoy a donut!

The Donut Diet

I'm considering a new diet.  The donut diet.  It's simple.

Essentially I would commit to losing 5 pounds in 3 days . . . by eating nothing but donuts, skim milk (with protein) and coffee.  Healthy?  No way.  But as a challenge, it holds promise.

Think of it . . . every morning I buy a dozen.  I then have to live on these while simultaneously burning more calories throughout the day.  It's simple math.  I've attempted stranger goals.  But I think I could be successful with this one and actually enjoy the dieting.

I'm really considering this, but have to begin this donut diet at the correct time.  During Lent?  Perhaps.  Or maybe after Easter, when the weather turns to a balmy breeze and the fresh air offers some promising inspiration.

I'm thinking about it.

Anyone want to join me?  Could be a very fun challenge.

The Valentine's Day Donut Poem

Did you know that on Valentine's Day, Dunkin' Donuts makes a special heart-shaped fare for all those lovers our there . . . especially lovers of donuts?  Better drop by and taste one today, or take a sack home to your sweetheart.  No need to go out to dinner as long as you have pastry, right?

But if you aren't going out to dinner (like me) and need a romantic poem to soothe the savage heart of your spouse, you could lay this one on tonight and pretend that you wrote it.  I really don't care.  (Please, don't credit me . . . I'm in enough hot water as it is!)  Just see if the poem has the same effect on your lover as it does on mine!  NOTE:  I did drop out a few of the bawdier verses, so I'll let you use your imagination (or not!).

My Little Donut

Some guys like their cookies hot
And others a hot cross bun
But me, I like the doe I've got
Since you're my donut, Hun!

You've been my little donut since
That time we dunked together
And though I rarely have to mince
My words sometimes I wonder whether

I ought to take you out for more
Than just a bunch of dough,
Or if I really should ignore
This Valentine's Day although

You probably have made your mind
That I ain't so romantic
Just writing poems of this kind
And acting rather manic.

But if, perchance, this little verse
Has made your oven hot
I'm here to say I'm not adverse
To seeing what you've got.

Cause you're my little donut, Sweet,
And I'm happy that you're mine,
And here's to hoping there's a treat
After this Valentine!

Donut Theology

A few years back a wonderful couple in the church gave me a coffee mug with a saying on it.  I've since kept the mug in my church office on my shelf--right there among my books written by Paul Tillich, Karl Barth, Walter Bruggeman, and books written by some lady who has a fetching 80's style hairdo called a "beehive".

The saying on the coffee mug reads:

As you travel down life's highway
And wherever you may go
Keep your eye upon the donut
And not upon the hole.

Lots of theology in the donut.  Which is something I've always known.

For example, a donut is tasty, and should be a reminder with every bite:  "O taste and see that the Lord is good!"  (Psalms)

Likewise, as the donut hole reminds us, we can often live life focusing on what we do not have, instead of giving thanks for, and enjoying, what we do have.  I'm not a big fan of donut holes.  A hole is a hole.  It's not a donut.  The donut is where it's at.  Someone wants a hole, give him a shovel I say.  

No, the theology of the donut tells us that we should not fall prey to envy, coveting, lust, or greed . . . which are four of the seven deadly sins . . . and all of these sins basically revolve around the same thing:  a desire for what we do not possess.

Don't concentrate on what you don't have.  Give thanks for what you do have!  That's donut theology, and you should take a big bite of it.  Don't worry about what your neighbors have; forget about trying to live like Donald Trump (but Lord, who would want to?); and forget about the hot woman or buff man in the office next door.  Love your house, love your life, love your wife (or husband) and love your donut. 

Talk to your pastry!  Pray over it!  Then take a bite.  There's some good theology in there among the raspberry filling and the coconut.

Good stuff.  In moderation.  And don't YOU forget it!

Point of Purchase

Have you noted that donuts have now been added to many point-of-purchase displays at check-out aisles?  An odd choice, really, considering that donuts don't have a long shelf-life.  Donuts, I would think, should remain a staple of the bakery . . . fresh out of the oven.

Whenever I do bring donuts home I make certain to place the box or the bag at some strategic location in the house.  Not necessarily in the kitchen.

Donuts can be displayed, for example, on the staircase, the bookshelf, at the front door, or on the bed.  Anyone walking by is bound to see the bag and wonder what's inside. 

Likewise, I would much prefer to carry my donuts in a bag instead of a box.  A box of donuts looks too commercial, in my opinion, and cheapens the taste.  But a bag . . . .  Now here we're going back to memories and tastes and sensations that still linger.  Nothing like finding a few extra crumbs of sugar still sticking to the bottom.

I'm sure some people do buy their donuts in the aisles at those super-warehouses that also carry hardware and electronic appliances.  But me?  I want a mom-and-pop bakery with a bag.

That's the point I'm trying to make. And it's a tasty one.  Especially in moderation!  

The Super Food

Donuts are the "Super" food, and as far as I'm concerned, they should be the official treat of the Super Bowl.  After visiting the Super Bowl village last week, I can only say that I was both impressed AND disappointed.

Impressed . . . that the city of Indianapolis did such a fine job, that people were getting along so swimmingly, and that we were certainly showing our Hoosier hospitality.  The city, the police, the fire department, the planners . . . they all did a Super Job and showed the best face of Indianapolis.  And I guess the people did, too, from the reports offered by those "out-of-towners" who were impressed by Hoosier hospitality.

But I was also disappointed . . . in that I walked the length and breadth of the Super Bowl Village and didn't see a single donut.

What gives?

You'd think the city planners would have consulted me on this most important issue before deciding that the standard fare would be a $15.00 hot dog.  I could have piqued the city's bottom line and profit margin considerably by suggesting donuts.  Easy to make.  East to display.  Ready to go.  And everybody loves 'em.

Next time the Super Bowl comes to town, I do hope I get the bid to help with food preparation.  I've got several fantastic ideas for football-shaped donuts.  And all of them are delicious.

Donut Theory

I have a theory about the donut.  My thinking is:  the donut may be our only hope for world peace.

I would offer the observation--that every time I visit a bakery or a donut mall I see people smiling and having a good time. I rarely see a sourpuss biting into a donut.  I also see racial and economic integration; I witness folks from all walks of life ordering at the window saying, "Give me one of those!"

I would recommend we serve donuts during all political debates.  This would loosen the candidates a bit and might help those, even of the same party or affiliation, to be able to say, "I may not agree with you on an economic policy, but I'm right there with you on that lemon-filled! That's certainly a keeper, Wolfe!"

Donuts could also help foreign policy.  No religion or culture, as far as I know, has anything against the donut.  It's kosher, it's refreshing, it's delightful.  It's everything an ambassador could ask for in an ice-breaker.  "Here, try one of these pumpkin spice cake donuts and let's talk about the Middle East."

I'm not saying the donut would transform the world overnight, but it would be a great starting point.  The donut might be the one thing that everyone could agree upon.

Stay hungry, my friends . . . and remember . . . all things in moderation.