As you may know, in Portland, Maine they canonize donuts. Holy, holy, holy, donuts ascend high and mighty above the lower sweets of the earth. Early in the morning, the songs of the donut-crazed saints rise in adoration to The Holy Donut.
If you’re one of the huddled masses of pagans living outside the holy rings of hipness that is Portland, you are SOL. You’re stuck in a food desert.
Once in a while, something rises in the distance.
(Picture courtesy of Mark “Handy” Doyon.)
When you’re in a food desert, it’s probably a mirage and not the manna of holy hipsters.