"'Ich bin ein Berliner' means 'I am a doughnut.'"

Uncle Jimmy brought some disturbing news from back home. He tells me that the food of choice at the Dixie Classic Fair this year is a cheeseburger with two Krispy Kreme doughnuts used as the bun. A quick Google search is telling me we're a bit behind the curve on this one, but still...

...This offends me on so many levels, I feel that I might need charts and graphs to fully express my disgust. And this isn't just those 50 pounds I seem to be missing talking.

The Krispy Kreme donut is the best proof for the existence of a benevolent god that I can find on this planet. Served warm under the glow of the "Hot Doughnuts Now" light, they are melty and sweet and heartbreaking in their beauty. I don't eat them often, because nothing that wonderful should be an everyday occurrence.

I had one in London this summer, just to be sure that the people at Harrod's hadn't corrupted the magic. After seeing what they did to the lemon filled (which is the only thing in the wide world better than plain) in the Tesco kiosk (meringue on top), I had to be sure the basic message hadn't gotten lost in translation. I am happy to report that the Harrod's counter passed muster.

But the problem with the fair people, and the ratfinks responsible for putting meringue on the UK lemon filled, is this. You do not screw around with perfection. This goes beyond "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." You run the risk of angering whatever deity was kind enough to bestow the precious combination of yeast and sugar upon us mere mortals. There's just no reason to add a cheeseburger. Or meringue. And I think a world of history and literature has shown us what happens when you anger the doughnut gods.