BEHOLD! The humble doughnut (or in this case, 'donut')!
There are two genus of doughnut:
1) the iced and filled variety
2) the plain old 'hole-y', freshly fried cinnamon-sugar variety
The latter is by far my favourite. Perfectly simple, in all it's tooth-achingly-sweet-burn-the-roof-of-your-mouth-off glory. The fine specimen in the above photo was purchased from the Donut Inn, which has been a mainstay of the Adelaide Central Railway Station since I can remember. But then, I've noticed in my travels that the natural habitat for the doughnut stall seems to be railway stations.
Besides being fantastically unhealthy, cinnamon doughnuts are indiscrimnatory when it comes to the mess they make too. I have seen many a well dressed businessman in such a state of deep-fried sugary bliss, that they fail to notice that their doughnut has left a powdery finish over their Armani suit pants; something akin to a bad bout of confectionery dandruff. I wonder if whoever does their laundry tutts to themsevles when they turn the pockets of these pants inside out, and half a kilo of sugar dumps itself over the floor...
(Sort of like my daughter's socks after she's spent a day in the kindergarten sandpit.)
My final word on doughnuts is this - they are deceptively filling. This is why I greedily bought 3 today, and still have one left sitting in its paperbag. The question is, is it worth reheating the doughnut only to be left slighly disappointed by the inability to recapture the moment when it is fresh out of the fryer. The crisp edges are now soft, soggy. The sugar has soaked into the flaccid skin. No longer a luscious doughnut... more of a depressive dough-not.
NB: I make no excuses for bad food puns
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