I know I’m writing a blog about eating like a ravenous maniac, so I shouldn’t say anything. What’s that phrase about people and glass houses?

“If you’re an overweight pig, don’t install so many windows. It’s gross for the neighbors.”

I’m pretty sure that’s it. I know I should take that advice, but there’s something about donuts that have always struck me as shamefully gluttonous.

In the little play in my head the role of America’s Obesity Epidemic is played by Wayne Knight from Seinfeld fame…

INT. BEDROOM

A heaping mound of candy wrappers, chicken bones and Pepsi Surge cans litter a bed.

The mound begins to move and moan.

AMERICA’S OBESITY EPIDEMIC (from inside the mess): Morning. BAH! How I hate mornings. I need to fortify my mouth with something so delightful, no amount of insipid conversation from neighboring countries can nettle me!

Fishing around the minifridge he keeps under his nightstand.

AMERICA’S OBESITY EPIDEMIC: Ah yes! I shall eat cake to start my day!

Outside the window children are playing.

AMERICA’S OBESITY EPIDEMIC: Gah! The squealing of your shrill voices and the patter of your tiny feet are already ruining my day! Cake will no longer do! Now I must fortify my cake! I know… I will FRY my cake!

America’s Obesity Epidemic’s MOTHER knocks on the door.

MRS. OBESITY EPIDEMIC: Are you going to leave the house today honey? Maybe look for a job?

AMERICA’S OBESITY EPIDEMIC: Stop harrassulating me mother! This fried cake will need more to settle my nerves, now. I shall dip it in a GLAZE OF SUGAR! aaaaaand SPRINKLES. and make it PINK.

A DONUT magically appears in his hand, he devours it, then jerks off to the Cake Farts porno and goes back to bed.

FIN

So when my friend Megan Neuringer told me that we were taking a trip to Donut Plant for breakfast this morning I was pretty skeptical.

I got there before her and decided to try a donut to confirm my suspicions that there is no godly reason to eat fried cake before 11am. I had the pomegranite cake donut (fruit seemed appropriate for breakfast) and a coffee. It was good. Nothing special. Not replacing eggs and OJ anytime soon. “Sorry donuts, figure your schedule out and then we can talk.”

I must’ve looked dissapointed, because as soon as I finished up my coffee the owner & head baker, Mark Israel saw me and asked me what I had. He wasn’t happy with my samplings so he proceeded to pull from the fresh-trays his 5 favorite donuts in the place. Megan shows up with our friend Alison Becker just in time for the challenge.

Aright Mr. Pastry, whip out your donuts!

I’d like to say we walked out of Donut Plant that day with our dignity in tact, but gods honest truth is Mark Israel fucked the high holy shit out of our faces.

I’m talking some filthy girl on girl on donut/ boy on donut on girl/ donut on adorable-Christmas-themed-counter-guy kinda action here.

This is the snuff film of food porn. The kind that leaves you walking funny and feeling ashamed, even if you can’t remember specifically what for.

First the tiny yet powerful Creme Brulee’ donut stunned my tastebuds with a candy like sugar exterior crispied by blow torch, and dripping from the center with the most intense custard creme my body could handle.

Then came the carrot cake donut, which unlike the yeasty creme brulee donut, was in fact just a cake in circle form. An amazing, moistly perfect piece of carrot cake… topped with toasted nuts and carrots… with a magical ring of cream cheese running through the center.

Then the squagel looking coconut donut- fresh coconut glaze, with a delicious coconut cream running in that same magic loop through the center. Followed shortly by a peanut butter glazed & fresh blackberry jelly donut that made me wistfully realize how far my childhood had fallen short of perfection.

At this point I’ve pretty much proven to be no better than Jennifer Connolly’s character in Requium For a Dream. I’m a whore. They’re selling footage of me to perverts in Japan.

Please Mark, stop. I’ve had enough. I need to be able to look my parents in the eye.

Mark doesn’t care. He’s a maniac. He breaks out the most perverse of all his concoctions. THE BLACKOUT.

A chocolate cake donut, with a dark chocolate fudge inner ring, topped with a chocolate cookie crumble. This is the Lexington Steele of donuts.

Where am I anymore? I feel like I’ve been flipped upside down, and all my clothes are missing except my sneakers.

I check my watch.

10:56am

I’ve had 5 donuts, a coffee, a chai tea and an orgasm.

I am Wayne Knight. I am the face of American Obesity.

Stop looking in my glass house!

DONUT PLANT: 379 Grand St. btwn Essex & Norfolk street.