Kreme crack­ers... I don’t get dough­nut frenzy

Sunday Independent (Ireland) - Living - - DR CIARA KELLY -

I’M a small bit con­fused about the whole Krispy Kreme dough­nuts ex­cite­ment. Peo­ple queu­ing for hours in their cars in Blan­chard­stown at the new 24 hours, “drive-thru’’ branch of a dough­nut chain that’s ar­rived from the US. I should start with a dis­claimer — I’ve never had a Krispy Kreme dough­nut so that may ex­plain my con­fu­sion. Per­haps if I had, the ex­cite­ment would make sense. But in my de­fence, I’ve most cer­tainly had other dough­nuts and they are in­deed quite nice, although none have stood out for me as so mem­o­rable or de­li­cious that I can re­call a favourite brand.

But any­way – I don’t get it. This is the kind of thing we did in the 1980s. We queued for hours when a new lo­cal hard­ware opened, in case they gave us a free box of screws or marginally cheaper emul­sion. We got ex­cited when a shop we had vaguely heard of from Eng­land or Amer­ica opened up in a town reach­able by a mod­er­ately long drive. We bought con­doms in record shops. We all went to see the Pope. In our col­lec­tive de­fence, it was a ter­ri­ble time. There was noth­ing to do. We watched end­less ads for liver fluke treat­ment for cat­tle on our TVS and we of­ten still made our own clothes. I went out on

‘This cur­rent ex­cite­ment makes no sense at all’

in­ter-cert re­sults night wear­ing only three art­fully placed snoods.

If Krispy Kreme had opened in Ire­land in the 1980s, it would have been all over the news. Some­body might have fainted out­side it from the fever­ish an­tic­i­pa­tion and been re­vived by a priest. Peo­ple wear­ing dou­ble denim and sport­ing mul­lets and thick mous­taches would have been in­ter­viewed eat­ing dough­nuts and giv­ing thumbs ups! Maybe some­one would’ve had their wed­ding pho­tos taken un­der­neath the sign. You can­not judge us. You weren’t there. Or maybe you were — in which case you know I’m right.

But this cur­rent ex­cite­ment makes no sense at all. In the 1980s we had noth­ing. So if there was a hint of a bit of a di­ver­sion we leapt on it. But now you can­not shake a stick with­out hit­ting on a global fast food chain. We are com­ing down with cheap, sug­ary, high-fat treats at ev­ery turn. Now we are blase, nay non­cha­lant, about wear­ing over­priced im­ported Amer­i­can clothes. In­deed, many la­bels that we sali­vated over pre­vi­ously have now be­come passe — which is a re­lief, as be­ing poured into tiny shorts and t-shirts only suit­able for in­fants in the trop­ics didn’t re­ally suit us. Large, boxy, smocks from eter­nally win­ter­ish, Nordic coun­tries are much more our speed, truth be told.

Nowa­days, I was led to be­lieve, we are jaded with US glob­al­i­sa­tion. Nowa­days, we were told, we want our cof­fee ex­pertly served by baris­tas with elab­o­rate fa­cial groom­ing and our dough­nuts made from spelt flour, or­ganic cin­na­mon and fried in co­conut oil with a side of kale. But it seems — as with the mar­riage equal­ity and the abor­tion ref­er­en­dums — once again, the Dublin me­dia elite have not had their fin­ger even re­motely on the pulse of the plain peo­ple of Ire­land.

No! It now seems ev­ery­thing we thought we knew, we didn’t! It’s en­tirely pos­si­ble that maybe we don’t ac­tu­ally like av­o­cado — it’s slimy and has the tex­ture and taste of a cold boiled frog. We don’t ac­tu­ally en­joy broc­coli cof­fee or Happy Pear “choco­late”. We want DOUGH­NUTS! And what’s more, we want them so badly we will queue in our cars through the night in or­der to get them.

I’m not sure if we even know who we are any­more. Or cer­tainly peo­ple like me in the ivory tow­ers of the meeja don’t know who we are any­way. We keep get­ting us wrong. We keep think­ing the plain peo­ple of Ire­land are more con­ser­va­tive and more pre­ten­tious than we ac­tu­ally are. We are in fact much nicer than we are con­sis­tently es­ti­mated to be.

I have fond mem­o­ries of dough­nuts in the 1980s. My mother used to proof the dough overnight in the hot press and fry them up in the deep fat fryer. They were rolled in sugar while still warm and they were a cheap and in­cred­i­bly de­li­cious treat. Mind you, we only had them about once a year… things were a lot of trou­ble when you have to make them from scratch your­self. Maybe the queu­ing all makes sense.

@cia­rakel­ly­doc Ciara presents ‘Lunchtime Live’ on New­stalk week­days 12-2

It’s en­tirely pos­si­ble we don’t like av­o­cado and love dough­nuts

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