June 23, 2015--Midcoast: Boston Creams

It was not yet 8:30 but already Frosty's was out of Boston Creams.

"They're my favorites," Rona whined. "We drove 40 miles to get here and they're gone?"

"I'm afraid so," one of the young women behind the counter said, clearly having heard disappointment of this kind expressed before. So cheerily she added, "We have all sorts of other donuts left that are equally delicious. Chocolate Coconut, Glazed Twists as well as Maple Glazed, Chocolate Butter Crunch, and Honey Dipped, my personal favorite. Surely . . ."

"I love them too," Rona said, calming down. "But it's just . . . I know I'm being a baby but . . ."

"I know, I know," the young woman said empathetically, "People come from hours away and if we're sold out of their favorites they get very upset."

"I'm not really upset," Rona assured her. "Just a bit disappointed." But perking up asked, "Did you say you still have Twists? I love them too. And Chocolate Butter Crunch?" The woman nodded, smiling broadly. "To tell you the truth, they're my second favorite. By the time we got to Wiscasset this morning I couldn't make up my mind if Boston Creams or Chocolate Butter Crunches are my favorite."

"So why not get a couple of the chocolate ones and a few others that the two of you can share?" She looked over at me contemplating the Twists and raised Glazed, my favorites.

"We probably should get a half dozen,"I said. "We're really in Brunswick to get our car serviced. We scheduled it so we could get to Frosty's early so as to be able to . . ."

"Not that early," Rona said under her breath still not reconciled to the fact that there were no more Boston Creams.

But we ordered a tray of six assorted donuts, coffee, and water and slid into a booth to savor our treats.

And they were wonderful. It took all our will power to keep us from finishing them in less than ten minutes.

"These really are amazing," Rona mumbled, her mouth full of Chocolate Butter Crunch.

"I say amen to that," I mumbled, my mouth stuffed with Raised Glazed.

I looked up from what was left on the tray--not much--and saw standing by our booth the young woman who had served us. She appeared to be hiding something in her Frosty's smock. "Here," she said. "Don't tell anyone." And with that she slipped another paper-wrapped donut onto our tray. "On me," she said.

"It's a Boston . . ." Rona almost shrieked.

"Keep it down," I said. "people are looking at us."

"How did it get here? I mean, did she . . . ?" Realizing what had happened Rona lowered her voice to a conspiratorially whisper. "How nice is that? Where did she get it? She said they had all sold out today by eight o'clock."

I looked over to the woman and gave her a surreptitious nod of thanks and saw her opening one of the boxes full of pre-ordered donuts, sliding a Glazed into it and quickly securing the lid. I was certain to replace a Boston Cream, the one she gave us.

"I think she . . ."

It was Rona's turn to stifle me. "Let's just eat it and not talk," she said. "Here, here's your piece." Decidedly less than half. But it is Rona's favorite and so I understood.

"It's some gud. I left em," Rona tried to say while washing down the Boston Cream with some of Frosty's fine French Roast coffee. "The cuffie's some gud wit da Bustin Cleam."

"And wasn't that the nicest thing ever? What the girl did?"

Rona, trying to smile with a full mouth, nodded.

Later that day, back in New Harbor, we wandered the aisles in Reilly's Grocery, seeking inspiration for what to make for dinner. We hadn't eaten anything since Frosty's and the car servicing turned out to be a car repair since they found two of our cylinders were misfiring. We were at the dealer's for hours. So we were tired, getting hungry, and grumpy.

"What do you think about grilling some of their beef medallions?" I suggested, "We had them last week and they came out really good. Especially with that Montreal Steak spice." Rona shook her head at that.

"I could go for meat but something a little more savory. Here, what about these skewers of thinly-sliced beef that say they were marinated in a Bourbon sauce? They look good to me. We've had some of their other marinated meat and they've always been good."

"I could go for that," I said, "But are there enough in the meat chest? By the time we can get everything cooked we'll both be starving."

"Am I in your way?" Rona asked another customer who was also looking at the meat on display.

"No, I'm fine," he said, "I'm actually here to get some of the skewered beef you're looking at. I eat it all the time. It's flavorful and simple to make. You see, I'm on my own. Live by myself."

"We were just wondering if there would be enough," Rona began to say. I nudged her since we might be in competition with the man who was clearly committed to buying a few skewers. There looked to be about five of them. I estimated to satisfy our appetite we would need at least three. That would leave him with only . . .

He turned away and drifted further down the aisle toward the pork chops.

"Let's try them," Rona said. "Reilly's never disappoints us. And they're only $5.99 a pound. Can't beat the price."

"But what about . . .?" I whispered, cocking my head in his direction, "I mean, he really lives here and is clearly a working man, a contractor or something, so . . ."

By then he had returned to where we were holding and looking more closely at three skewers. There were just two remaining in the chest. He bent to pick them up. Clearly he was as eager to have them as we. I sensed he was disappointed that there were only two left but thought, first-come-first-served.

"If three aren't enough for you," he said, "You can also have these."

"We don't want to . . ." I began to say.

"Really, you'll like them and I'm not sure if you're very hungry that three'll be enough." Feeling our hesitation, he said, "Truly. I'm fine. I'll be fine." He held the last two skewers toward us, as in an offering.

When we hesitated, he gently returned them to the shelf where they had been and picked up a package of boneless pork chops.

"I've been thinking about these all week," he said, heading toward the checkout counter.