I Am A Boston Cream Pie

While I may be a coffee addict, I’m not someone who regularly indulges in breakfast pastries. Sure, I like the Friday bagels or the occasional sweet roll, but I’m no doughnut/donut afficianado.

I will say that I enjoy Krispy Kreme as my glazed donut of choice and Dunkin Donuts for everything else. I haven’t yet had the chance to try Sublime Doughnuts but I hear they’re, well, sublime. I’m partial to bearclaws and other “bakery” items (as those in Wisconsin describe all manner of doughnuts) when I’m eating someplace local.

All of this is to say that I spent Sunday morning in line at the local Dunkin (upon which America runs, I’m told) and had the chance to sample the winner of their crowdsourced creation, Toffee for your Coffee. It was an excellent donut – sour cream cake, glaze & toffee – but nowhere near as good as my banana cream-filled, peanut butter-topped “Happy Monkey” donut from months ago. You can’t win ’em all, I suppose.

In the course of eating our sweet treats I had a Boston Cream donut (Boston Cream Pies are actually cakes, and a Boston Cream Donut is actually a form of a Berliner [insert timely Kennedy reference here], but I digress).

So as I’m eating the custard-filled goodness, Raelyn catches a glimpse of the goo inside and asks me what the heck it is. A fair question from a first-grader who hasn’t yet succumbed to the sweetened dairy goodness of Bavarian cream. I’m most proud of my description:

Me: It’s custard. Do you know what custard is?
Rae: No.
Me: Well, it’s sweetened condensed milk that’s been cussed at.
Jenn: Seth!
Me (to Jenn): Hang on, I’m on a roll.
Me (to Rae): You see, Raelyn, they get a big vat of cream and then they have a Filipino woman shout obscenities at it for an hour or so until the cream relents and congeals into the sweet treat that’s been injected into this here donut.
Rae (Without missing a beat): How did it get in there?
Me (Pointing): See the hole right here?
Rae: Yeah.
Jenn: You cannot share that with the internet.

If there’s ever any question as to my fitness (or complete awsomeness) as a parent, you know where to point the authorities.

As for the donut(s) it/they were delicious and I haven’t felt guilty at all about eating them; not for one second.

I learned about the differentiations and permutations of confections – from a pie that’s actually a cake, to a donut based on that pie/cake, to the correct nomenclature for a Berlin resident OR a jelly donut.

Raelyn learned about the process of making donuts and their fillings.

You, my dear friends, learned that I am not to be trusted in educating the younger generation about matters culinary or historical. You never know when I’ll slip in a reference to indentured servitude.

Ich bin ein Pfannkuchen!

That is all. Enjoy your Tuesday.

2 thoughts on “I Am A Boston Cream Pie

  1. HA! You sound like a really cool dad to me. I hate those parents that shield their children from everything, and treat them like somehow, they aren’t actually people. Having a sense of humor and sharing it with your child will make them grow up cooler as a result.

    And duh, of course you have to share stuff like this with the internet; that is what it is for!!

  2. Thanks, Duane. I try to let all the parts of my personality inform my parenting. Though most of my humor is the “don’t laugh, it just encourages him” kind, I think it works.

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