Sunday, August 01, 2004


Well, we did it finally. I went out to the west end a few days ago, after all the hype about Krispy Kremes, to buy some for Barb and me. I had almost bought some when we were in California in April, but gave it up since I figures the birthday celebration would make us sweet enough. Why waist the Krispy Kremes out there? So we waited until the place opened here and waisted ourselves at home. The Krispy Kremes were good (although they aren't real crispy when they are fresh and they get a little tough later), but I expect I won't make many trips out to the west end for more of them. They remind me a lot of the old Spudnuts that we had in Billings. But they stayed soft from the time of purchase until they were gone (although that might not have taken as long to finish as the Krispy Kremes did. I may be nostalgia, of which I've been accused lately, but it seems to me that the Spudnuts were bigger. I didn't put a ruler to either them or the new stuff, anyway. I was glad earlier that we had tried Starbucks out on the coast, so I didn't have to run out there and get some of that mud. I much prefer the stuff you get at Mountain Mud, or Perkins on 27th, or the Travel Cafe, or the new City Brew on north 27th street. I've been told that Starbucks uses a very dark roast and I guess I don't like my coffee that dark, just all day. Anyway, the Krispy Kreme adventure reminded me of the first time that I remember tasting doughnuts that were not the stale powdered sugar puffs that you got in packs of, I think, six from Sweetheart or one of the other bakeries that didn't come every day to the small towns around here. We were up in Charlo visiting my dad's parents who lived in the Northern Pacific station house there since he was the agent. Grandpa took my next youngest brother and me up to Polson to see the regatta, the only time I've ever seen the pumpkin seeds, the little speedboats, race around. I think Polson still has the regatta. Across the street from the park along the dam where the races took place, was a doughnut shop where you could stand on the sidewalk and watch the doughnuts being made. It seems to me that the dough came down a long stick, dropped off into boiling fat, when around a track and came out on the inside of the shop. I think I'd still be fascinated by one of those machines. Then we went inside and had a couple of doughnuts each and then went back to Charlo. I didn't make it back to Polson for several years and when I did, on my own, the doughnut shop was gone. But they were good in memory, and solid enough that you could dunk them in coffee or milk and chew, not drink.


Blogger Pandora said...

I don't mind if you are being nostalgic; I enjoy reading stories of your younger days. You should write more of them. It's interesting to see how things have changed. Thank you.

6:54 AM  

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