I would be lying if I said it didn’t start with Entenmann’s. Before there were apple cider donuts, fancy cake donuts, oversized yeast donuts and specialty donuts doused in whiskey, maple syrup and grilled strawberries, there were Entenmann’s Rich Frosted. They are, officially, my Donut Root.
It’s why I will eternally be comforted by the perfect combo of slightly-resistant-subtly-crunchy-dark-chocolate-melty external shell and birthday-cake-gone-kinda-pound-cake-with-inexplicably-mildly-orange-tasting interior. The box of shiny roundlings is a shameless nostalgiafest for me - not to mention, it’s a total dream with a cup of coffee.
My theory is that here’s how it started: When I was a kid, there was an inexplicable myth kicking around my house that if any of us four kids ever decided to get married, the party smorgasbord would feature only two items, thus creating a focused, economical and perfect menu for a theoretical matrimonial roomful of donut-loving Jews: 1) Gefilte Fish Balls 2) Entenmann’s Rich Frosted donuts. I have no idea how this hypothetical nosh menu lore came to be but I do know that, even to this day, that spread sounds pretty effing appealing.
The lore, of course, then expanded beyond the mythical Wedding. ANY upcoming festivity was an excuse to crack open a box of Rich Frosteds. And I still very much stand by that principle.
The same may or may not go for a jar of gefilte fish balls. That is up for debate.