We like to catch up with the founders of some of our favorite shops in the area as an inspiring and illuminating tromp through the veins of San Bernardino’s successful elite. This week we talked to Donut Witch owner Helena Ranunculus Casserole about how she manages her body’s pesky need to ingest food along with managing her burgeoning empire, Donut Witch.
My body-centric alarm clock wakes me every day between the hours of 9 and 11 am, depending on a few factors. It reads where I’m at in my sleep cycle, how my blood sugar is doing, and whether or not I feel like leaving bed yet.
On a typical morning, I usually bound out of bed around 10:26 am and help myself to a scoop of Donut Witch’s bread pudding, which is made the night before from any remaining flaxseed pumpernickel yeast donut and the tears of children that visit our shop and read the menu. I like to serve it with a dollop of reticulated splines cream which is rich in vitamin c-13, melancholy, and e=mc^2.
Next, I wake my pup pups, Dolly and Ebenezer, with their morning incantation — they are the loves of my life, after Donut Witch, of course. We feast together on the reduced broth of radish- enriched apple fritter skins while I rush into my first call of the day — the bathroom.
After that, I throw on one of my many vintage yukatas and hop on to the company conference call where we discuss any pressing issues, like supply for my 13 shops around the greater San Bernardino area. Some say we’ve saturated the market with our witchy brand of garlic butter and sage twists and rosemary- encrusted crow’s feet bear claws, but those naysayers clearly haven’t felt the mystic qualities of cinnamon sandalwood cream-filled donuts which will really invigorate your soggy metabolism for the day.
By this time, I need to fit in my lunch supplement and get to the first shop of the day, so I take a couple thimble-shots of our Unclenching-Soul Glaze, Aura Sprinkles, and Refined Donut Fry Grease for hair and nails. I like to finish it off with a lemur milk-based beverage of Chocolate Frosting Lunar Nodules, which includes the fiber bran- calcified mono multi-saturated desaturated Hmm Vee OMG ghee. I always take time to dab the corners of my mouth and cackle in the direction of the moon for 30–45 seconds after that. It really invigorates the soul.
I am oh-so-busy but it’s time for my nap with Dolly and Ebenezer, which helps me sleep off the effects of the cackle. By the time I wake up 16.35 minutes later, I’m ready for the second half of my day. I throw on some drab rags and do a few business spells, wishing ruin on my enemies Dunkin’, Mister, and Krispy Kreme.
By this time I’m hungry for an afternoon feeding, so I down some fish-oil-filled donut holes with bonito and sand crab head flakes that I picked up from one of the Donut Witch locations. I throw all my mental energy at a spreadsheet for a few hours, doing the business thing. Sometimes I’ll suck on our Donut Witch exclusive Shaman Blessed River Rocks if I feel my concentration drift.
When it is time for dinner, Dolly, Ebenezer and I head off to their favorite restaurant, the County Scrap Yard. No, that’s the name of the restaurant — they only use scraps from places in the 90210 zip code. I get their Curly Q-Complex Frites and the Red Sauce of Indiscriminate Origin, while the furry ones dine on a simply divine celery tip and onion nubbin crostini, and heel-crushed eggplant goo. Maybe your readers would like the recipe?
We retire home and I reflect on the day’s activities from my literal reflection pool out back. My gardener/ spiritual advisor Jo Jo put it in for me last year. The kids and I watch some Better Call Saul on Netflix (which really just makes me want to watch Breaking Bad again) before I prepare a nighttime dessert that really gets my heart pumping. I return to the backyard, and make a small fire in the pit where I’ll roast our iron-enriched crullers and compost-glazed old fashioned donuts to perfection.
Before bed, I drink 22 oz. of water with two of our farmed cake-donut-enriched Cranial Compactor, and a shot of the organic stuff they use to scrub down the kitchens at Donut Witch. Sometimes it keeps me in the bathroom all night long! But on the nights that it doesn’t, onward to a blissful night’s rest in my newspaper nest. I just can’t sleep unless I feel cradled by the world. Goodnight, universe! How #blessed I am.
A note from the author: Thanks to Ali, Erika, and Lisa for initial feedback and editing. This is a purely satirical creation not intended to represent actual witches or their lifestyles. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental (lol). This piece is intended as a satire based on 1) a dream I had and 2) a recent “day in the life of” food feature on a magazine website.