Powdered Donuts

By: Peggy Willms

(4 min read) 

These messy, little, white-powdered buggers have snuck their way back into my mouth. WTH, I know better. They aren’t even real food. So why?

Simply put—memories. If you have followed me over the years, you will not be surprised that food and I have a history. We all have a history with food in some fashion. I have strong memories connected to specific foods like brewing coffee and the smell of delicious chocolate chip cookies. Even blueberries. I can tell you who I was with and where I was when it comes to my food memories.

My history with coffee is detailed in one of my old blogs, What Coffee Taught Me About Memories (https://allthingswellness.com/peggy-willms/what-my-coffee-habit-taught-me-about-memories/). Shoot, the name of my previous radio show, Coach, Couch and Coffee, brought together three of my favorite things.

Since my first tooth blew through my gums, I suspect my family helped create my addiction to sweets. Perhaps it is because I was a 60s baby and grew up with women who loved to bake. Batter-spoon-licking girl here. When we were all cooking, it was laughter, story time, hugs, and teamwork. We baked whoopie pies, all sorts of berry pies, cakes, cookies, buttermilk and chocolate donuts, fudge, and more. Real milk, real butter, real sugar. Really good time!

But Donettes are not real food, so why am I eating them? But those damn messy things crept into my house, although it has been decades! DANA!!! I cannot mention one single food to my boyfriend. He is a gift-giver and a foodie. As a sugar addict, this isn’t good. Luckily, we don’t drink or smoke, cause hell, it could be ugly around here. I’d have a wine cellar and a cigarette factory.

About three years ago, I briefly (like one sentence) mentioned to him,” I haven’t had Lego waffles for decades. We grew up on them. Lego, my Eggo.” In reaction to my slight comment, three boxes ended up in the freezer later that day. While they were still living in the freezer unopened, a 72-count box arrived from Costco. Seriously. I even did a TikTok about stuffing them in the ice box. OMG! Since he is Canadian, we at least had real maple syrup.

I don’t drink milk or eat cheese. I guess I spent too much time milking the cows down the street. Speaking of which, why is it when you live near a farm, the wind always blows disgusting aromas right at your house? I do eat Greek yogurt, and I love butter, though I rarely eat it. Growing up in our house, we had Chiffon margarine. You might remember those little yellow tubs. They were everywhere. We used empty containers for everything from paperclips, thumbtacks, buttons, and more. Did your mom bake with Crisco? Mine did. What a  good ole heart-stopper.

The other dairy I eat is Talenti gelato (coconut and pistachio are my favorite). I haven’t had any in months, and the damn stuff showed up today. An all-out war broke out. “Why did you get ice cream?” The answer was, “Buy one, get one.” #areyoukiddingme. When I close my eyes, my ten-year-old self can still see what people were wearing and saying as we waited in line for our cones at Jay Gould’s or on Marshall’s corner, and I can hear the Schwan man barreling towards our house. 

While putting the ice cream in the freezer, it immediately brought me back to December when a box of Donettes visited. My history with these things goes back to when I was a teenager when we would visit my aunt and uncle’s house in Maine. The visits were special as they lived about three hours from us. We were always greeted with chocolate, no-bake cookies, and boxes of Country Kitchen donuts. BOXES. You will die when I tell you why.

There were also ducks, geese, dogs, cats, and pigs at their house. Donuts and pigs go together. You’ll see. My aunt and uncle had a relationship with a local bread and bakery store. Every week my uncle drove into town, pulled around to the back alley, and loaded up the truck with any bread-like items past the recommended sell-by date. If they were expired by just a few days, they were put on the kitchen counter, and it was a free for all. The rest of the products were fed to the pigs. 

Why do I keep ending back talking about coffee? Well, donuts and coffee go together, too. Even in my teens, I loved coffee. And dunking a white-powered donut in my coffee was the best ever. I hadn’t eaten this type of donut for a few decades. Swinging right back around to the foodie I live with. You know where I am headed. We were getting a few things at Aldi’s, and I walked by the damn mini donuts and made a comment that should have been said under my breath. You think I would have learned by now. The next thing you know, there is a box of 15 minis in our hotel room.

There is one thing I am blessed with when it comes to food. Though I may suck at moderating myself in other areas of my life, I am great at moderating my food consumption, especially sweets. I am very picky about my snacks and will not eat anything I do not like or want. I have no history of binge issues—only with Netflix. But I can tell you something happened with that box. It was like an obsession took over. I could find a ton of excuses. For one, stress…I am not in my own environment. We are still at the hotel waiting for our house to be renovated after Hurricane Ian. Boy, I cannot wait until I don’t have to talk about the outcome of that dang hurricane. Though it did change my life. Anyhoo, I think my memories kicked in, and I downed those puppies in three days flat (remember they were minis—haaaaa).

My lesson. DO NOT mention any snacks to the precious human I live with unless I want my house to look like he just took a trip into the back alley of the bakery with my Uncle Jerry.

Peggy Willms
                                                                     All Things Wellness, LLC
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