Being as it’s Thanksgiving and all, I thought I’d leave it until today to write about this Doughnut:
Call it stereotyping if you will but, you know, those Americans love their Doughnuts, right?
Ach, never mind. Stateside or not, love them or hate them, today – in my fourth post on Jersey Cakes and Puddings – is the day of the homemade Doughnut.
Its makers were the folks at the Breakwater Cafe, at the land end of the peaceful St Catherine’s Breakwater.
A better setting for a Doughnut I have never seen: the sun was out, the wind was low and the tourists had mostly decided to stay indoors.
The Man and I had a better idea: pay our pound, get our Doughnut, and take it to a quiet bench for eating. Beats the four walls of a cafe, especially on a mild November day.
As it happened, the Doughnut itself didn’t quite match the beautiful setting. It was… all right. Fresh but not warm, soft with no crunch. Basically just a normal sugared Doughnut: by no means unpleasant, but hardly the mouthwatering treat we’d both envisaged.
Perhaps we’re just not big enough Doughnut fans. Even Krispy Kremes – which so many people get chuffed about – have never much floated my boat. Not even the ones which hold bits of Meringue or various layers of goo.
It could be the oil, I suppose – the taste and sensation of grease as you take your first bite.
I still live in hope of trying the perfect one; the one that converts me to Doughnuts as a whole. But so far they’re not quite for me.
The Breakwater though… I’ll take seconds of that any time.