Kicking Sugar. Again. Part 1

This is the first post in a series of three about sugar.

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I loved Emily’s glazed donuts. I guarantee you that Emily’s made the most delicious glazed donut. Ever. The donuts were covered in copious amounts of glaze accompanied by a slight crunchy exterior while the inside melted in your mouth. (This is not meant to be ground breaking prose, but an accurate description of how the best glazed donut in the world should be crafted.) The glaze contained a magical, yet-to-be identified ingredient that made it especially tasty. If you never tried an Emily’s glazed donut, then I am so sorry that you missed out.

If you wanted an Emily’s donut; you needed to arrive early. Then you had to wait patiently for all those people ahead of you to place their order and then pray that the glazed donuts did not sell out. As a child I can remember peering between adult legs to catch a glimpse of the pastries in the glass case. Meltaways (a chewy bread-like sweet pastry that I have never seen before or since and was covered with that yummy special glaze) and giant chocolate chip cookies with scalloped edges caught my eye. We usually ordered a row of meltaways, glazed donuts, and a jelly donut for my brother.

The best part of being in the bakery was its smell. The aroma, a combination of sugar mixed with the perfect blend of cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg, and browned nuts, permeated the entire building. The second best part of being in the bakery was the warmth from the oven. In comparison to the salty, foggy, early morning air of the nearby beach it was like walking into open arms.

After one particular long day of playing at the beach I begged my mother to take us to Emily’s. We had already snacked on sandy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and gulped lemonade. Yet with the bakery just up the street, and the memory of those chocolate chip cookies in the glass case lingering in my mind, I begged my mother to take us. I needed to know if those cookies were as delicious as the donuts. My mother’s “No” was met with incredulity. How could she be so cruel? What possible reason could she have to say “No”?

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