I admit I am a bit of a donut gourmand. It is fairly obvious as my belly lingers (ok, I like beer too), even after these many weeks of cycling.
Rule: I brake for donuts.
Tim Horton’s “always fresh!” is ubiquitous in Nova Scotia and, as far as I know, the rest of Canada. Nearly everyday, I end up at one of these joints having a small cup of coffee and a donut. Like the Dunkin’ Donuts around Boston, I’ve never been to one where I did not have to wait in line, no matter the time of day. They are swarming and often seem the center of the small town life, with old guys and teenagers loitering in different corners of the parking lot.
Tim Horton’s are cleaner and fancier than Dunkin’ Donuts, the coffee is better and less bitter, and they even make “healthy lunch”, but my god, the donuts are terrible: an extremely limited selection and lacking delight of palate. I’d say the cake donuts are too soft and like most commercial donuts, the glaze much too sweet. They are also small. I hate small donuts.
Yesterday, I took the ferry from Yarmouth to Bar Harbor. I’ve not passed a Dunkin’ Donuts yet, but by the end of the day I am sure I will. I’ll not deign to drink the evil coffee, but I am screeching to a halt for a butternut donut.
Let’s face it, Dunkin’ Donuts aren’t that great either. And I’m not saying that because I’m a Krispy Kreme shareholder. (Krispy Kreme destroyed my future financial security and their donuts are gooey, nasty puffs of sugar, almost as bad as pink cotton candy). Perhaps on the ride back to Boston, I’ll get to stop in Amesbury for some cider donuts , and in my near future, I’ll be savoring the powdered sugar doughnuts at Top Pot in Seattle over a big latte.