Three years ago on the 4th of July, we embarked on our very own Brexit, or maybe I should say Smixit? Nah, let’s just say it was our own Independence Day. We boarded the very comfortable plane in London and touched down several hours later in Detroit. It was one of the smoothest journeys – from start to finish – that we’ve ever made. And, we’ve made some journeys. We stayed in Michigan for a few weeks, so we could acclimatise acclimate to our new old culture. And, I’m glad we did.
One thing I fully anticipated on arriving back in the US was access to awesome doughnuts. I spent nine years living abroad, and I can’t think of a time when I had a truly fabulous doughnut. I just assumed that as Americans, this was a right of ours. Right there next to the pursuit of happiness and access to quality Mexican food. We moved to Texas, and I discovered that I was wrong. Really wrong. You know the saying, “everything is bigger in Texas”? Well, when applied to doughnuts, it should be, “we have more doughnuts shops than anyone, but they’re not really all that great.” I know this may ruffle some feathers, but it’s true. You want barbeque, you come to Texas. You want Mexican food, or Tex-Mex, come to Texas. You want good doughnuts? You gotta go to Sweetwaters in Kalamazoo.
I’m not being paid to say this, and the folks at Sweetwaters most likely won’t ever see this post, but it’s true. I’ve traveled the world, and I have yet to find a better doughnut.
They say home is where the heart is. I’m pretty sure in this case, home is where the best doughnuts are.
(Note: Shipley's Do-Nuts didn't *actually* make my children cry.)