Paczki, Oh How I Miss Thee

Today was Fat Tuesday and for the 10th year in a row I have not had an authentic paczki. I am not Polish nor Catholic (therefore do not observe Lent), but every year growing up in the paczki capital of the world I would enjoy at least one of those delicious fruit-filled calorie bombs. My favorite was always blueberry or strawberry. There, you were never too far from a bakery (or a bar, but that’s another story), and many of those bakeries were Polish bakeries run by Polish-Americans. Even after I moved away from my home town back in 1997, I worked there still until 2001 therefore still within walking distance of a bakery. Where I live now, they have bakeries, but none within walking distance. That and I am just much too busy to be driving to a busy bakery. Please don’t get me started on those lame supermarket imitations that they claim as paczki, that is just plain blasphemy. Do not insult me with Kroger or Dunkin Donuts or Krispy Kreme because any real Hamtramckan or Detroiter knows better. When you bite into a true paczki baked in a proper bakery, you can taste the pride the bakers take in their craft and that made those once a year treats taste extra special. Next year I may just have to get up early enough before work and make a pilgrimage to my nearest bakery, it has been way too long lol.

Keep looking toward the setting sun, for there is where you may find me lurking amongst the shadows.

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About DarkPhoenix

I am an open book. My pages are just stuck together.
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