You Dunkin?

Comfort food.

We all have at least one. What’s yours?

One of mine is Dunkin Donuts, but not just any of their assorted shapes and tastes.

I fall victim to The French Cruller.

Oo la la, sooooo good it is enough to make Marie Antoinette say, “Let them eat French Crullers”.

Until a few years ago there weren’t any Dunkin’s in or around Houston. That left me to suffer in silence until I made a visit to the northeast to see Mom. Up there they are as numerous as local bars.

[In case you were wondering, our homegrown Texas Shipley donuts do not make “The Cruller”, at least not that I’ve ever seen.]

You can imagine, then, two days ago my pleasant surprise driving I10 west out of Houston between Sealy and Columbus. There on the north side at exit 709 is a brand new Dunkin Donuts!

My truck knew exactly what to do: it took the off-ramp and rolled up to the door while I was thinking nothing but French Cruller, French Cruller.

Trying hard not to drool I stood and looked at the trays full of the days selection.


“Stay calm,” I told myself, frequently they have trays that are not in public view.

So, barely able to contain optimism, I asked the gentleman behind the counter: “You have French Crullers out back?”

AND HE SAID YES! “How many do you want?”


Well, I wound up getting half a dozen all told: three crullers; a lemon-filled; a chocolate coconut and a plain for dunking.


I now have to be careful not to make a side trip there too often: it is conveniently close to home.

It is more fun to keep it in the “special treat” comfort category.



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