It’s my Megan’s day to bring breakfast treats for her 1st hour English class. Is there something wrong with me that I can’t settle for the donuts at SuperAmerica? Krispy Kremes are too predictable, and over-rated besides, and bringing cereal and milk would feel like a sad surrender.
Of course we hauled our keesters to Isles Bun & Coffee this morning for what is arguably the greatest breakfast treat in the known universe: the Isles cinnamon bun. Roughly the size of a dodge ball, the warm buns are all doughy-love on the inside and flaky buttery cinna-swirl on the outside. Slathered with gooey white icing, it is the perfect sweet bomb for a class of high-school juniors.
It might have been cheaper to buy 30 pastries from Lunds, and it definitely would have been easier not driving all the way to Uptown and back by 7:30am. But how many of those stuck-in-the-suburbs kids have ever seen an Isles bun? How many even understand the wonders that exist beyond Toaster Struedel? When I moved 20+ minutes out of the city, I adopted a mantra: good food is always worth the drive.
I think of it as community service, expanding young minds and palates through artful cinnamon.
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