Donuts

It's called "Phatso's" but the owner/baker looks like he is a regular marathon runner. I don't know that he found charm in the location close to the action of downtown Chester, Pennsylvania, being a hot spot for drugs, violence, prostitutes. But it felt much different stepping into the shop. Much different. I was scared for my life until I was safely enclosed in the warmth and subtly sweet smells and early morning smiling faces of the proprietor and his son. And if I hadn't been on the war path of weight loss, I would have frequented it more.

I came to New York and tried some expensive donuts. But I don't need to say anything about that.

There in Chester, two blocks from my crappy filthy job, I found a bit of heaven so simple, so delicious, so delightful, and so memorable that if I were ever remotely near I would stop to spend a small fortune to ensure the continued existence of the tiny shop everyone should know so well.