EDitorial ± 25-Sep-2008
For a while in our regular workaday office, one word and one thought had been uppermost in our mentalist minds: doughnut. Yep, come a certain time of day -- 11am, 2pm, 4pm, say -- we'd start to fantasise about sinking our teeth into a deep-fried piece of sweet batter. American yum yum, Spanish churros, French beignet: we saw all these pictures and more on the Internets. Mostly we made do with a Tesco jam-filled.
So when I heard that our kindly Boss was to visit us the next day from her base in London Town, my BSc brain fired into life: wouldn't it be super if she brought us some City doughnuts? In fact, how's about some Krispy Kreme?! No such stores in this vicinity but one, coincidentally, in Liverpool St station itself. There followed a pleading email kindly requesting a glazed raspberry, a chocolate dreamcake, a maple iced glazed, et cetera.
Into work expectantly the next day ... and by the Lord Harry, behold a delightful dozen of the nutritionally questionable items in a KK box. Life does not get any sweeter, quite literally.
Felt good after the first: my, that is more-ish maple. Slightly sugar rushy after the second: love that vanilla cruller. And a tad unsettled after the third: original glazed, yes sirree. Nice to get a taste of life in the NYPD.