It's funny to look back at the very first day I had a cake doughnut, seems so random to remember when it was just a doughnut......yet it is where my love first burst through my taste buds!
My father sat across from me and my mother in the yellow tinted booth in Buds. The small town cafe of St. Maries Idaho, where we lived at that time, the place smelled of yummy homemade food as the grill flipped out hamburgers and fries. I had been holding my mother's hand to reach the bench seat as I climbed up to sit the waitress came to our table in a ruffly apron and a big smile. My father ordered his black coffee at the rolling of my mother's eyes while pointing to me saying "I think this little one would like to have a doughnut, bring out 2 of them actually." My Mother looked down at me in concern asking "Is she old enough? That could be to much sugar all at once?" My mother's dark curly hair rested on her shoulders as my father pushed up his eye glasses with a confident smile explaining back to my young mother "She will be fine, a little sugar never hurt anyone." I remember standing in that booth leaning against the table in order to see out better all around me at such active place!
This was one of my favorite memories with my parents in the old worn down building with the humming of conversations all around us. We never ate out like that so this is why I can remember it so well...then there was our waitress who took a plate to the screen door cupboard that hung in the corner of the relaxed cafe, I could watch her clearly put 2 doughnuts together then bring the interesting things to our table, when Mom broke me off a piece I was in awe! I was in such amazement by this fried sweet cake that I never forgot this first taste, this magical moment!
After that sweet surprise I always knew what was in that corner cupboard with the flip swing door all screened over to keep the bugs off the hot huge pile of hot homemade doughnuts. I watched every person who opened it from then on in craving wonder like old trucker guys with their brown mugs full of coffee grabbing a doughnut waving it towards the counter saying "Hey add another one of these to my bill." Then they ate it in hand as they walked around visiting, I knew right away how getting my Grandpa to take me there meant another doughnut for he was always sitting in there among his friends telling jokes and stories.
My father once picked me up so I could get a good look inside that doughnut cupboard for I never seen so many all at once.
It became my main question for years growing up whenever we went into Buds Cafe
"Can I get a doughnut?!?"