Forecast for the weekend: sixty degrees and sunny in late October. Now that’s some apple picking weather, son.
No, I did not go all Chauncey on y’all while I was on the Gluttons hiatus. Don’t even think for a second that my black ass will be out at Wood Orchard this weekend, drinking caramel cider Chai with Claire-n-them. Oh, HELL nah. But, a brotha’s got mules up and down the nation’s mid-section, scooping up these gooey goodies so that I can get all Bevin Titcomb (note: she locked up for a minute) and shit when I’m rett to break my fast. Apple Cider Donuts, y’all. Treat yo’self! like Tom Haverford and Donna Meagle do.
Heed this like that Russian, Drago who took on Rocky B. These are not donuts. Apple Ciders are an essential seasonal food staple that comes along only once a year like Cadbury Eggs and Girls Scout Cookies. The sweet/tart external shell and granulated sugar sticks to your fingers like some Jordanian baklava (no mind the Arab Spring, ole boy smiling in the back row just ate a couple Apple Ciders). When you sink your incisors into these beasts, your mouth-hole will navigate its way around a moist, sweet cakey Mecca. Shukran, Apple Ciders, shukran.
Ain’t gonna say it again; the Apple Cider season is almost ova people. Get muling. Lets flood the White City with these donuts like Stringer Bell’s West Baltimore high grade herron. People don’t WANT it, they NEED this shit. Megaphones at JoeM500 and deep blue skys for the flicks. Keep shooting and posting up, family. The Gluttons are listening.