February Love Lost

                   February. It is The month for sharing love, or, at least chocolate.

         Yet, for me, February was a month of great disappointment, disillusion and loss.
I had discovered the utter satisfaction of the Dunkin’ Donuts Chocolate Crème Filled donuts the previous year. They became my ultimate sugar-fix indulgence. Each fresh donut, tender and moist, was rolled in powdered sugar. It was delicious on its own, but when filled with chocolate crème they score 10 out of 10 for this sweet-addicted chocoholic.

         Chocolate Crème Filled. The name was a description, yet hardly worthy of the smooth fluffy whipped chocolate mousse-like delight that swirled in my mouth with each bite. I craved these donuts, and they were elusive. Time after time, I walked into a Dunkin’ Donuts to find they did not carry my choice of sugar bolus.

         Finally, I tracked down three stores within 10 miles of my home that regularly carried Chocolate Crème Filled donuts. Even better, they were conveniently located on my paths from work, or from my psychologist’s office. Each of those locations served me well for much needed “hits” of the silken drug when my stress levels screamed to be dialed back.

         Disaster struck in February of this year. Bright posters advertised heart-shaped donut promotions. Among the donuts reshaped for the month were my beloved Chocolate Crème Filled.

         My first visit in February alerted me to the horror of change. Not only was the shape changed from a plump oval donut to a sickly flat heart shape, the filling was…. different. With the original donuts the crème filling was abundant. A swirl of filling protruded invitingly out of the end of the donut. I could spot Chocolate Crème Filled donuts from the back of a line of six or more customers by their distinct fluted chocolate caps.

         On that February morning, a grey chill was in the air as I entered the store. I stepped up to the counter, scanned the racks of donuts and requested two Chocolate Crème Filled donuts to go with my extra-large coffee. The tray which the server reached into contained skimpy heart-shaped donuts with just a dark shadow of a hole poked in the side.

         “Odd,” I thought. Then electrical sparks shot through my brain when I bit into the donut to find limp, soupy chocolate more like unset chocolate pudding than the fluffy filling I loved.

         What?! Had there been an accident at the donut factory? Had a main mixer gone awry? No more mousse-like filling?!

         Cautiously, I chalked it up to a fluke.

         A few days later, however, both my other sources were selling the same sad substitute under my beloved donut’s name.

         My choices were limited: To learn to live without regularly indulging in these objects to soothe, satisfy and excite at the same instant. Start a petition or rally outside my choice stores to bring back the “real” chocolate crème donuts. Or, write an impassioned plea to the chief chef, “Please return to the original recipe. Its loss leaves a hole in my life, and a tremble in my hand as it spasmodically reaches out into the darkness seeking sweet chocolate heaven.”

         Time heals, I have heard, and so it has. Life is change, but I have the memories to savor.