Of all the awful things that can happen to a dessert addict, eating a bad donut is the absolute worst. Yesterday, I ate a bad donut and my life flashed before my eyes. If this was America, I would sue (channeling Wild Child here) for gross negligence of a customer’s tastebuds because HOW CAN ANYONE SCREW UP A DONUT?! Its a sacrilege.

Here’s the thing, a donut is possibly the most evil of desserts; 60 seconds of heaven on the lips and a lifetime of hell on the hips so you expect something like that to taste like heaven, maybe even better. I figured out the donut philosophy; a ring donut is the circle of life, a filled donut is the dome of fortune, screw those things up and your life is over. Hence people who make bad donuts are emotional terrorists.

My fantasy with this donut started about two months ago; I’d walk by the donuts dome in the store where I usually buy most of my desserts, stop and gaze at them, they always look so soft and fluffy with that perfect golden shade, the filling oozed from the centre just in the right amount, teasingly… but then I’d buy a cookie or something less evil, saving the donut for another day. My very high expectations were compounded by the fact that I’d been looking forward to eating this particular donut for a wee while, so you can imagine how betrayed I felt that something so beautiful tasted so vile! and it cost me £2! I could only stomach two bites before tossing it.

Everything about this donut was awful; the filling was mashed raspberry, not jam and it was too much, the dough was too dry and it tasted like cardboard overwhelmed with raspberries. I don’t even like raspberries, except in jam. Ugh. My day was hijacked by a bad donut, everything that could go wrong, did and I never recovered.

I’m usually a donut snob, Krispy Kreme is my default so this was a big gamble, one I obviously lost.

I can forgive a lot of things, ugly shoes, bad hairstyle, chipped nails…but I will not, CANNOT, forgive a bad donut because once you screw up a donut its all downhill from there.