I’m not just a Dunkin’ Donuts employee, I am a Donut Curator
Common sense dictates that I am a crew member employed at the 8th Street Dunkin’ Donuts location, but in my heart, I know that I am so much more than that: I am a Donut Curator. You may underestimate me based on my every-man uniform, but rest assured I am doing some very important work here behind the counter.
When an unassuming customer approaches the till to order a dozen donuts and I inquiry about his choice of flavors, there is no response that fills me with a greater sense of purpose than “surprise me.” This is the ultimate creative brief, and it’s job I don’t take lightly.
I step back and remove my corporate-issued latex gloves and tenderly slip into my tailor-made magenta satin ones. These are the gloves of an artist; an artist with years of experience in the donut curation game. An artist who has had gallery showings in the Dunkin’ on Oak Street, the Krispy Kreme on 11th, and the Piggly Wiggly on Main. Food critics — at least those who have even a lick of sense about them — call me the “Van Gogh of donut curation”.
Food critics — at least those who have even a lick of sense about them — call me the “Van Gogh of donut curation”.
From below the counter, I queue up my donut curation playlist on my iHome speaker system. It’s a mix of Sunny Rollins’ “The Bridge” and Antonio Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons”. Perfection cannot be rushed, and this music sets the mood.
I take my place in front of my canvas, the wall of donuts, and begin my work. The simplest form of donut expressionism is the Boston Cream, so I begin with this as my base, carefully laying three donuts side-by-side at the back of the box. To the expert eye, starting with a foundation of Boston Cream says two things about this artwork: it is a layered, multi-faceted composition and it has a worldly view from the get-go.
When curating donuts, you cannot underestimate the playfulness available to you. Vanilla Sprinkled is the gateway to donut art for many. I include three in this piece at the front of the box so that it is the first thing to greet the eyes upon opening. Follow this up with two Marble Frosted donuts, and I’ve just classed the fuck out of this arrangement. People don’t see them coming, those Marble Frosted. They are the Grey Poupon of donuts, however, they should be used wisely. Filling a box with more than three of these exquisite specimens will mean they stay uneaten in the office breakroom. They’re just too intimidating.
I gingerly add two Apple Crumb donuts to the mix, tucked over to the left side. Dunkin’ has managed to incorporate some distinct apple pie notes here, even if they’re more reminiscent of the apple pie you’d find at a gas station than at a five Michelin star restaurant. Sometimes the paint you’re left to use is not of the highest quality, but for my purpose, it’s about the virtue of the expression rather than the taste.
Lastly, I slide two Honey Crullers into the remaining spaces in the middle of the box, careful not to disturb the surrounding toppings. Honey Crullers are the donut equivalent of Auguste Rodin’s famed sculpture “The Thinker”. They say everything and nothing all at once. A work of art in their own right, but they truly shine as the centerpiece of this collection.
Closing the lid, I believe that this is truly the best collection of donuts I have ever curated. My masterpiece, my opus.
Upon sealing the box and returning to the register, I am at a loss to find my customer. I am told that he got tired of waiting, grabbed a box of 12 jelly-filled, and left. Ah, such is the life of an artist! We are never truly appreciated until we are gone.
This piece is featured in the upcoming print issue of Morgenmete. Special thanks to Andy J Miller for the editorial illustration.
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