I stopped at the local bagel shop today looking for cheap eats and saw this monstrosity:
It is a donut. A really, really big donut. See the bagel next to it? And the fork on top? Those are normally proportioned items. The plate is a dinner plate, not a dessert saucer. This is a donut big enough to kill a man… if not with blunt trauma, then definitely with diabetes.
Naturally, I had to have it for myself just for the sheer novelty factor. Hell, I don’t even really like glazed donuts; it was the complete stupidity of the whole thing that lured me. Surprisingly, it’s not bad. I guess I expected pastries to be like fruit and vegetables — the bigger they are, the less flavorful and juicy. That’s silly, I realize. This is fried buttermilk dough covered with sugar. Of course it’s delicious at any size.
My dessert for the day was one-sixth of this monstrosity. With Cat out of town, it may take me a week to work my way through it.
Please watch this space. I may need help if this thing topples over and crushes me beneath its girth.