An open letter to the doughnut | Gourmand and Gourmet

An open letter to the doughnut

  • Food & Booze
Dear doughnut, I never thought it would come to this, but I’m writing this letter to tell you that we’re through. I doughnut want to sugar coat it, because it might give you false hope that we could still have a future together. If there was a sprinkle of hope for us you wouldn’t be reading this, but our relationship has gone too stale too be saved. The fact is, I’ve come to see what an unhealthy relationship we have. Every time I fry to break away, you tempt me back with sweet promises, vowing to be better, telling me that you’ve changed. But I’m tired of the hole circle, and it’s time for things to end. I thought we were forever, from the moment I locked eyes on you in that bakery the day we met. I was there for a salted caramel macaron, but the second I saw your buns, I knew you were my jam. At first, things were perfect. You were hot as hell, sweet as cinnamon sugar and always there when I needed you. I thought you were the one who could fill the hole in my heart, I even wanted to say ‘I dough.’ Then things changed. We were still getting to know each other when you made it big, and suddenly everybody wanted you. You were the darling of the dessert world and our breakfast dates just weren’t enough for you anymore. You got cocky and overconfident, trusting that I would stick around hanging on your every crumb. First it was just flirting with Nutella and crème brûlée, but soon you were hooking up with everything from bacon to breakfast cereal. I stayed true and stuck by your side, but then I caught you on top of that strawberry milkshake and I knew we were done. I didn’t think you could be so self-centred. You broke the circle of trust and left me crashing from the (sugar) high we had been on. Now, I try to talk to you but you just look at me with a glazed expression. Do you even care how hollow you you make me feel? Do you know how much I miss the doughnut you were? I want to see other desserts – in fact, I already am. There’s an ice cream sandwich who tells me I melt his heart and I’ll give you the scoop: He’s about to knock you off your perch. I hope the milkshake gives you gas. Words by Ranyhyn Akui & Lucille Burkitt