Don't Mind if I Do(nuts)

Consider this post breaking news: I need to tell you about something really special. And dangerous. And delicious. Wednesday, I heard about a new bakery here in Charlotte called Your Mom's Donuts. Ever the skeptic, I set aside my love of all things carbohydrate and furrowed my brow first at the spelling of these fine confections. You see, I really do think that only Yankees spell it "donuts." And like any true belle, I want my doughnuts Southern. My allegiance to Krispy Kreme over Dunkin Donuts does not waiver. After taking a look at YMD's fine product, however, I would spell it "dohknutz" if that was a requirement to get my hands on these goodies.

Your Mom's Donuts doesn't have an actual store. You email them your order and they deliver the doughnuts straight to your door. Let's review: you don't even have to pick up the phone and talk to a human being to make this deliciousness happen. You don't even have to put on shoes. You just email and then--the hardest part--wait.

Clint and I are trying our best to avoid holiday weight gain. Weight loss would be a marvelous, miraculous thing, but in our world of gluttony and food giddiness, we are just trying not to literally burst at the seams this holiday season. But when I saw the flavors of these pastries--flavors like eggnog custard, cranberry with lemon buttercream, apple cider with caramel pecans, and Mexican chocolate with candied banana chips--I almost choked on my Lean Pocket and I threw my carrot sticks right into the trash. I dare anyone with taste buds to resist.

I immediately emailed my order. Foolishly, I had plans of dining on doughnuts that very afternoon, but it was not to be. They had already reached capacity for both Wednesday and Thursday, but wanted to know if Friday would suit my schedule? Well, I suppose I can make room in my life for a gourmet doughnut delivery. It's hard being me, but someone has to do it.

My doorbell rang this morning and my box of awesomeness arrived. Here is what I found when I opened it up:

 

I know, right? Now, ever the dutiful wife, I am not-so-patiently waiting for Clint to get home before I devour these confections of perfection. (It's only fair, since I would kill him if he sent me to work and ate doughnuts without me at home. Do unto others and avoid homicidal rage, I always say. Or in this case, donut unto others.) I can confidently tell you that if they taste a tenth as good as they look...jackpot! I have already read rave reviews, and I can't wait to confirm it for my greedy little self. As a bonus, my entire kitchen smells like I have been slaving away and baking all day.

 

Some of you are no doubt experiencing doughnut envy at this point, especially if you aren't in Charlotte and you can't order yourself a dozen or five. You are thinking, "who cares about these long distance, North Carolina doughnuts?" Never fear, (as always) I have a solution for you. Just come for a visit--it will be the perfect excuse occasion for me to place another order. Hey, it's Christmas! The calories don't even count!