I love donuts and I love my friends. I also love that I have helped many of my friends love donuts. But of course, as we are talking about donuts, that is not a hard challenge.
Where's Tony with a Donut". Since we haven't heard much from him lately one could only assume that Tony was in fact "missing with a donut"... or likely several.
Therefore, when I received a text message this past week from Tony saying only this..."One word: Congdon's!" You can imagine how ecstatic I was. For, not only was Tony still alive, but he was also back on the hunt...without a vengeance it seemed. I replied - "Are you there?" as I was in Sanford Maine at the time and thought I might be able to catch up with him for a quick jelly. But nothing. What had happened? My mind began racing thinking of all the donuts, the carnage of jelly, cream, chocolate and frosting. Tony was the Italian Stallion unleashed and hungry for any donut in his path. Like a Neanderthal on a Smith Corona, short choppy phrases where all he could manage... "Was now in Portland. BAVARIAN CREME!" Oh no, I thought. "Did Portland have any idea what was descending upon them?" Or was he lling out for help while inside a Bavarian creme? Then, there was silence. I imagine a sugary sweet coma of indulgence had caused him to lose his capacity to speak...but then came the pictures, FAST!
|The name sake shop first...|
First it was Tonys in Portland Maine...this must have been the scene of the Bavarian creme massacre....
|Dough Boy Donuts Parsonfield|
Then it was Dough Boy Donuts in Parsonfield Maine, traveling faster and faster, a freight train of sugar and sweet, no time for words just pictures, brief hints of the wake left behind.
Then Frostys in Brunswick Maine, famous for its long lines and scrumptous dough balls. It was at this juncture that Tony's donut rampage must have come to a screeching halt. The long lines at Frostys coupled with the sugary-dough-like concrete working its way through Tony's system must have brought our hero down to a quivering lump, grinning from ear to ear, just outside the door behind his last victim; a chocolate frosted.