A Hole in the Story
Perpetual frozen fingers and ice cold nights delayed a few Midwest updates. The crown jewel of my missing Midwest experiences was finally finding Fargoian donuts, well almost Fargoian. Donuts are an odd paradox in North Dakota. One would think that the land in love with all things fried, carb-y and sugar drenched would have a grand promenade of donut shops. But this is not the case. Fargo is completely donut free. With one exception.
Donuts Here & There
Grocery stores are the only place to locate the round precious confections. And as a general life rule* I avoid grocery store bagels and donuts. They never live up; such circular treats require an artistic precision that only specialized bakeries can create. Even foreign countries know the importance of a good donut. Thailand, a general place of all things unexpected, had a donut parlor in the center of Bangkok's immigration complex. I highly advocate government donuts; the doughy sweets ameliorated the bureaucratic torture of attempting to extend our visas. Clearly a food of high esteem in the south east Asian county, Thailand even created a franken-food artistic interpretations.
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| Donut-Burgers in Chang Mai |
*
Another general life rule insists that I never don outfits that combine brown and black, I am not an earth tone person.
West Fargo Wanderin'
Beyond Wal*Mart lies West Fargo's city limits. West Fargo is a fast growing and rambunctious place. Bits of prarie lie fallow between gaudy housing developments and run-down duplexes. Yet, the nouveau riche and working class break bread, well donuts, together at Sandy's Donuts. The one issue with Sandy's donuts is that it closed on Sunday. And what is Sunday other than donut day?!!
Donuts, Donuts, Donuts
My new work schedule finally freed up a few Saturdays in my life. Giving Preston and I the opportunity to make the trek to deliciousness. Once at Sandy's I ordered a cherry donut and a blueberry
Bismark (aka jelly donut). Preston engulfed a sour cream chocolate donut as well as a raspberry
Bismark.
We drank coffee from "kitchen cabinet" mugs and enjoyed a peekaboo view of the Sheyenne river bank. The decor was homey and the bakery buzzed with overlapping laughter. Our morning conversation spanned from the Wisconsin Blue Grass Band we had seen the night before and Preston's sadness that his donut wasn't filled with sour cream. A sadness I did not share. Because really, a donut filled with sour cream sounds like a horrendous tastebud exercise.
Thesis
My theory on Fargo's missing donuts stems from a hashtag entitled #winterwoes. My belief asserts that the six months Fargo spends below freezing each year, has seriously affected the citizen's ability and drive to "dash" out to collect a pink box of donuts. Without a willing customer base, Fargo's donut shops have perished. But despite the lack of shops, the undying American spirit that loves all things pure, free and tasty survives the terrible tundra, like a permafrost beneath the snow. Thus an indefatigable Fargo-following pilgrimages to West Fargo each and every day for a little something covered in glaze; a following Preston and I have joined.
MIDWEST POINTS
Getting a Bismark = 2 MIDWEST POINTS
