The dreams of Dixieland are alive and well in the one place they shouldn't be: Massachusetts, the birthplace of the American Revolution, the home of our greatest patriots, and the heart of the Dunkin' Donuts franchise. They come in the form of Krispy Kreme, the North Carolina-based chain and makers of the glorious, round, scrumptious fried pieces of dough.
This past summer, the South finally fulfilled its Civil War destiny, at least in a culinary sense, by implanting the first Krispy Kreme in what has long been Dunkin' Donuts territory. The third franchise in larger New England, this doughnut shop is in prime location for Tufts students. Snugly tucked next to the Wellington T stop off of Rte. 16, between the Tufts campus and Target, Krispy Kreme is just close enough for that midnight attack of the munchies.
In 1933, Vernon Carver Rudolph bought a doughnut shop in Paducah, Ky. -- replete with a secret recipe for a yeast-raised doughnut. Four years later, he established the first Krispy Kreme in Winston-Salem, NC with only $25 in his pocket. Customers continued to ask for their desserts hot and fresh, and the genius behind the franchise was born.
There is the original, classic, glazed Krispy Kreme doughnut. Then there is the doughnut fresh off the conveyer belt. Warm to the touch, like a piece of freshly baked apple pie and gooey with tenderness incomparable to any other pastry; it is a masterpiece waiting to please the palate. Customers can watch the progression of the shaped dough as it moves through the Rube Goldberg-esque mechanism.
After the doughnut lies on a shelf, moving up and down, changing shape from a thin, wide mouthed circle to a plump, raised, holey oval, it is flopped into a bed of hot frying oil. Moving along the track, the doughnut is flipped over -- so as to fry the other side -- revealing a deep brown that serves to recall memories of the tasty carnival funnel cake. Then -- and this is the best part -- the doughnuts are rolled through a solid sheet of hot glaze, millions of calories passing by the eyes in seconds. Finally, the doughnut finds its way to your mouth. But then there's the hitch: you can't have just one.
The trademarked red neon sign that blazes "HOT AND FRESH" above the cars on Rte. 16 is like the deep sea angler fish in Finding Nemo with the light above its head, attracting its prey from afar. There are 200 calories in an original glazed doughnut, 110 of which are fat calories. Eating one will provide you with 18 percent of the recommended daily value of total fat. And as was said before, you can't eat just one. As sophomore Andrew Chira, a self-professed Krispy Kreme lover, claims, "the glazed doughnuts are basically pure fat and I can feel my arteries clog and the beginnings of a heart attack before I even eat them... in other words 'doughnut heaven.'"
Health risks aside, there is an even greater ramification in the arrival of Krispy Kreme to Medford: the fate of the much-beloved Dunkin' Donuts. If Krispy Kreme, with its free samples and bright eating area, is the epitome of the hospitable and friendly Southerner, than Dunkin' Donuts is the epitome of the Masshole, the angry aggressive Boston driver who'll give you what you want without any bells or whistles. The latter will always be reliable to give you fast service, perhaps with a smile.
Some students who hail from the Boston area maintain their loyalty to "Dunkies." "Dunkies is a vital part of my morning," says junior Lexi Shuman. "It's part of Boston pride... I love walking down the street and knowing at any given corner I can get my medium iced coffee with milk and sugar."
There is a certain element of the "Krispy Kreme experience" that Dunkin Donuts cannot hold a candle to. Watching the fresh doughnuts roll of the conveyer belt, sitting in the brightly lit, welcoming dining area, and wearing the special paper hat that came out of an Edward Hopper painting -- it is like a free show that fills your stomach with sugary goodness.
The South can keep NASCAR, Piggly Wiggly, and its Waffle House, but remind yourself, when gorging down a "HOT and FRESH" glazed doughnut, to thank them for Krispy Kreme.
More from The Tufts Daily