Apple Cider Doughnuts

It wasn’t that long ago that it began. Really. It was maybe three or four years ago. A chilly October day, and I was shopping in the local grocery store — not one of the big chains, but rather the mom-and-pop where we buy most of our provisions — and there on the end cap were a few boxes of something called Apple Cider Doughnuts. I’d never heard of such a thing and stood there for a bit, fighting temptation.

Then up the aisle came my good neighbor Maggie. “Look at this,” I said to  her. She’d not heard of them either. I continued, “It says there are six in the box. I’ll buy them, but you have to take three of them.” And hence Maggie took one for the team.

It turned out that we all were unimpressed. And we thought that was that. But the very next autumn, I came across Apple Cider Doughnuts at the orchard and decided that maybe the orchard knew something that Entenmann’s did not. I bought a half dozen and once again, Maggie helped us out, and once again no one could understand the enthusiasm that folks on Facebook were displaying in the cause of ACDs.

And each year since, it’s been the same thing. A new source. A new half-dozen. A new disappointment. This autumn I got ahead of it all. I vowed that we were done. We were not going to test yet another source. It was agreed all around that the ACD phenomenon was just something we’d never understand.

I stood firm. I really did. And then I noticed on Facebook that the legendary, famous, wonderful bakery two or three towns up the highway was featuring Apple Cider Doughnuts. I pointed it out to Maggie and opined that I was glad we’d moved on.

Last night just before dinner we found we had a dozen fresh apple cider doughnuts in a box on the chair under our mailbox. And at the end of dinner, although we have been forsaking dessert recently, we decided to indulge. We each took a doughnut and began to nibble. We pronounced them the best ACDs we had ever had and suddenly understood the fuss! They were beautiful in color, well-sugared, and delicious. We liked them very much and were happy there were more in the box. Joe then ate a second. We spent much of the evening re-watching The Crown (catching things we’d missed the first time around). After two episodes we called it a night and I retired while Joe went out with Lizzy.

This morning after my yogurt and his cereal (plus fruit for both), I poured a cuppa coffee and served two more doughnuts on plates, one to each. They were still very, very good. I particularly enjoyed dunking mine in my coffee. 

As we began to clear up, Someone asked, “How many are left?” Knowing there had been three consumed at dinner plus these two, the response was that it seemed there would be seven. Then Someone opened the box and said there were six. Someone Else, who has never been particularly good at math, frowned. And re-counted. But Someone Else did not count the remaining doughnuts in the box because Someone has never been any good at all at being duplicitous. So it turns out that Someone enjoyed an ACD just before or just after the dog walk.

Could it have been Maggie? I think not.