A Reflection on Doughnuts

Doughnuts have been used as a coping mechanism probably as long as they have been in existence.  I, too, use doughnuts as a coping mechanism when faced with situations which threaten to undo me, to dissolve my usually calm demeanor into a puddle of tears whether from sadness or joy, from feeling overwhelmed or even just sentimental.  However, my use of doughnuts is quite unconventional.  Here is how it all began…

In early 1997, my husband, Barry, and I bought a convenience store.  It was situated way out in the county and owned by an elderly couple who wished to retire.  The premises were as careworn as the owners and in desperate need of updating.  The asking price was a bargain even with the need for new gas pumps, a canopy over the pumps, a renovation of the front of the building and a fresh coat of paint on walls and concrete floor.  A company was contracted to replace the gas pumps and install the canopy.  Family, friends and newly hired employees did the grunt work of refurbishing and painting.  Barry’s connections to the local restaurant community through his HVAC/refrigeration company guaranteed access to good used equipment which he would install himself.  A three year stint as a deli manager while in his 20’s gave him the know-how to stock and manage the sub and sandwich part of the store.  Add the groceries, the VHS movie rentals and an ATM machine and we were set.  Oh yes, don’t forget the doughnuts—a whole case full every morning, Monday through Saturday.

We stocked a very good doughnut product that came in pre-fried and frozen.  The doughnut “maker” would arrive between 4:15 and 4:30am to be ready for the 5am store open.  Saturday opening was an hour later and we were closed on Sundays.  Specific numbers of doughnuts would have been taken from the walk in freezer and placed on trays in the walk in cooler the night before.  The first order of business in the morning was to fire up the commercial convection oven and ready the work space.  Oven mitts, cooling racks, powdered sugar, cinnamon sugar, glaze, white icing, chocolate icing, white filling, crème filling, raspberry filling and so on.  The easiest and first to be done were the rings and twists.  They were either dipped in cinnamon sugar while hot or glazed or iced when cool.  The filled doughnut shells were cooled, then filled and then glazed or iced.  Each day had its list of how many of each type were to be made.  Usually the store opened before all the doughnuts were finished, so waiting on customers was added to the list of duties. 

When all was complete and the doughnuts were arranged on their trays in the glass case, the clean up began.  The unused glaze, icings, fillings and the sugars had to be put back in their respective buckets and lugged back into the walk in cooler.  The donut filler machine had to be dismantled and cleaned.  The bowls and utensils had to be washed and stored.  The counters had to be washed, the sink cleaned and the floor mopped.  At this point it would be between 8 and 9am depending on the quantity of doughnuts made. 

When the Mennonite woman we had hired moved away, my dad took over the doughnut shift and loved every minute of the process.  First, he was a morning person.  4:15am arrival?  No problem.  Secondly, he was very methodical and liked being able to determine his own routine and way of doing things.  He was also a people person who enjoyed interacting with the customers and even forming friendships with the regulars. 

Unfortunately, even the best employee for the job has days of sickness or vacation.  And I was the fill-in.  My dad did have some sick days, colds and what not.  Then he had hammer toe surgery which meant about six weeks of doughnut duty  Ugh!  I am not a morning person.  I do not want to even begin to think about getting up at an hour that to me is still the middle of the night.  But duty called.  Working backward from 5am when the store opened, I figured out the shortest possible time to have the fewest acceptable number of doughnuts in the case when the store opened and discovered that if I arrived at 4:45am and didn’t dilly-dally, I could have all the rings and twists in the case and be within minutes of having one of the filled varieties available, usually something that involved chocolate.  Working backward from that, I subtracted the ten minute drive and the time it took me to get dressed, brush my hair and teeth and put a light layer of mascara on my too light eyelashes.  I found that if I laid my clothes out the night before, I could set my alarm for 4:25am and make everything work.  The big problem?  I hated pretty much the whole ordeal.  Handing doughnuts to the customers was nice, but I was otherwise on auto-pilot, wishing I was back in bed. 

We sold the store in 2005, so specter of doughnut duty is no longer part of my life.  However, to this day, while most people have pleasant, sugary thoughts about doughnuts, mine are not.  I can enjoy eating one, and have even made some for Fastnacht’s Day, but when I am not partaking, the thought of doughnuts is one of misery.  I have found over the years since that the thought of those early morning times is enough of a hard reality to break whatever mental cycle I am in.  Don’t want people to see me cry at a wedding?  I just say “Doughnuts, doughnuts, doughnuts” in my head over and over and can enjoy the ceremony dry-eyed.  Upset at something someone said to me?  The same—“Doughnuts, doughnuts, doughnuts”.  A sad scene in a movie?  More of the same.  Too much on my plate and/or dropping the ball?  A doughnut memory is all it takes to get me back on track.  Something scary in the news?  Doughnut memories keep my thoughts from running amok.  Sound cynical?  Perhaps.  But for this HSP (highly sensitive person), it works.