‘Tis the season to be sad, y’all! (And to eat a fuck ton o’ carbs, AMIRITE?!) When I woke up this morning I was running on two hours of sleep, and that seemed like not enough to run on, so I decided to do what America apparently does, which is: RUN ON DUNKIN’. My local Dunkin’ Donuts (as you may recall from previous Sad Girl Taste Tests) is complete chaos. There’s usually a lady hawking bootleg DVDs, a homeless guy acts as the doorman (the old homeless guy was one who had long hair and talon-nails, but the new guy looks more polished and keeps calling me “boss” every time I give him a quarter because he apparently thinks I am a man, but like, I’m fine with it because being called “boss” instead of “ma” is pretty cool), and nine times out of ten the people working the counter are guaranteed to fuck up your order, but yet IT IS SO CLOSE AND EVERYTHING GOOD IS SO FAR AND/OR REQUIRES CASH ONLY. But I digress. We’re here to talk about the donuts, not the atmosphere.
I have seen advertisements for this new “snickerdoodle croissant donut” for a few weeks, and while I wouldn’t say I’ve been meaning to try it, I made an irreversible impulse purchase and now I am going to write about it.
AND SO: the donut (as you may have already guessed) is another iteration of the nationwide knockoffs of Dominique Ansel’s famous cronut (which I still have not tried because it is a stupid invention that requires long wait times for acquisition, though I can make an educated guess that it is worlds better than all croissant donut mashups that came after it). What makes this one stand out is that it tries to cram one more food item into the mashup mix: cookies. (A completely unnecessary move, to be honest, resulting in a hilarious-sounding word, aka “coocronut”.) Now, to remind customers that this is a special affair, the pastry is priced at $2.49 (in comparison with the usual $0.99 loser donuts) and comes in a ridiculous box. Seriously, look at this ridiculous goddamn box // like, IT IS A DONUT, NOT A HAMSTER:
The donut itself is thicker than the regular ones (presumably due to the well-defined layers within), and it looks exactly like you’d expect: a croissant-shaped donut with a dusting of cinnamon sugar something or other and icing. I didn’t see it and think “I MUST HAVE IT,” but I also wasn’t repulsed, so…it was a level playing field going into the taste-test.
And now for the disappointment! Biting into the donut was #DEFLATEGATE; while it wasn’t completely hollow, it was much more akin to a churro than I think it should have been. In fact, with the cinnamon sugar component (oversold as “snickerdoodle”), Dunkin’ could have EASILY marketed this as a “churronut” or a “donurro” and I’d have had a much easier time accepting it for what it was. (Slash why didn’t you do that, Dunkin’?!) Meanwhile, I could taste the filling a little bit, but I couldn’t see it, so I dissected the whole shebang into two halves to reveal some weak as fuck dispersal of the “cookie dough” filling // there were a few dots of caramel-colored cream in there, but otherwise pretty barren. (In Dunkin’s photos, the filling should have been ALL UP IN THAT!) But even without filling gushing from the seams of this thing, it was intensely sweet, and eating a whole one seems like a surefire way to score a trip to Diabetes Town.
So where does that leave us? Well, this donut is not only more than double the price of a regular joint, but it’s a pretty hefty 410 calories total for something that is essentially air and sugar. That being said, if you’re taking a chance on a croissant donut from a national chain, then chances are you already had your standards set pretty low in the first place, in which case you may get off on paying extra to gain weight in a sub-par way. If that’s the case, then RUN DON’T WALK TO YOUR LOCAL DUNKIN’ DONUTS!