It started on Saturdays in Bakersfield, California, in a bakery called Sugar Twist. I’d get a puff pastry-type thing with whipped cream and strawberries, and my husband would get a donut or two, maybe trying out the crazier ones in the cabinet: sometimes it would have bacon, and other times it would be bigger than your head.
Our son, who was a toddler when we moved there, would get the frosted sugar cookie decorated like one of Gru’s Minions. He loved those cookies so much that when he turned 4, we served his birthday guests Minion cookies instead of cake.
We’ve lived in two more cities since then, but Saturday morning breakfast treats continue. Each time we move, we end up finding just the right place to continue the tradition. So, I’ve come to tell you that I won’t be celebrating National Donut Day today, because in this house, we celebrate with donuts on Saturdays.