Pass the donuts, please

1. Friday is National donut day. Someone actually went through official channels to shove the uh, oft maligned little ball of dough, into the national spotlight declaring a cardiac holiday. I mean who doesn't really like fried food? Admit it. And drizzled with powdered sugar, or glazed? My history with donuts can be traced directly back to St. Bridget's parochial school. Pre-national obesity. After first Friday Mass, the nuns, god bless them, served up hot chocolate, and powdered sugar cake donuts in the cafeteria. We were in the 2nd and 3rd grade. Globs of sugar jacked our tiny brains, as we dunked and slurped our way to a sucrose high. Once I saw this kid, named Michael, eat 7 cake donuts before class. Back in the islands, my palate changed. Mysteriously refined and sophisticated (at 13), I discovered and became a culinary 'ho' to malasadas, a Portuguese tasty... round deep fried balls of dough rolled in granulated cane sugar and deposited on friendly shores in the late 1800's. Warm, golden and slightly crusty. I couldn't get enough. Oh yeah, come to mama! So my friends, with your best interests at heart, leap frog the bran muffin (are we doing penance here?). Bag the oatmeal, and start the car. Load up on lipitor and sidle up to the counter. Life's a carnival. Get with the program.

2. In Joplin, a pachyderm helped clear debris from the tornado ravaged area. Immediately after the media pub, someone from PETA or a PETA clone went ape about the defunct circus (past citations for animal transgressions)who graciously offered the elephant's services. Whoa. No whining during national emergencies.

3. Farmer's markets. I love all the purveyors that flock in with their produce or their food products which enrich my life as well as the surrounding communities. I relish buying sweet ears of corn from Brentwood, or Chandler strawberries from Sonoma, and fresh eggs from Turlock. Recently in an East Bay article, there were grumblings about the number of out of area sellers and the lack of inner city licenses. Food for thought. But, don't be singling out, my Donna's Tamales as interlopers from Marin. I know these women. They work hard; have always worked hard, and travel up and down the coast like the majority of these purveyors to provide us all with healthier, better food options.