Friday, July 15, 2011

An open letter to muffins

Muffins. What’s up with you? If you were cupcakes, you’d be fantastic. If you were banana bread, I’d enjoy spending a couple of bucks on you. Instead you sit in that weird in-between space, trying to satisfy all my cravings at once and just not hitting any of them.

I’m not talking to homemade muffins. Don’t ever change, homemade muffins! Stay gold and all that. I’m addressing these remarks to all the grocery store muffins out there, all the Tim Hortons and Dunkin Donuts muffins. Why do you do that thing you do in my mouth, which is dissolve like a sugar cube? And once your innards are exposed with a bite, you have only two states: mush or concrete. It makes no sense that you should be kind of damp – soaked, nearly – with unknown moistures, and then convert into a rock formation within ten minutes. Stop that weird bullshit, muffins. You’re kind of a tease.

2 comments:

Bookphilia said...

And totally disgusting. Your writing is too evocative, and I may never eat a store-bought muffin again.

Anonymous said...

My college cafeteria made bran muffins that I'm pretty sure are still with me to this day.