Tag Archives: cops and doughnuts bakery

Cops + Doughnuts = Yumminess

First Note:  This post was scheduled for yesterday, Friday July 20.  When I woke up and saw the news surrounding the tragic events in Colorado, I pulled the piece.  Given the carnage that law enforcement, trauma centers, and families were dealing with, it seemed highly inappropriate.  I’m not sure today is really better, but when I re-read this post, I saw that it celebrated law enforcement, family, and hope  –  so I published it today.  I hope you read it in that spirit.

Second Note:  Please, please, please – if you are a member of the law enforcement community – do not attack me for mentioning your chosen profession and baked goods in the same breath.  I love cops.  I was once madly (and sadly – he was not good for me) in love with a policeman.  He was guilty of felony heartbreak.  I admire and support the brave men and women who serve their communities in that career.   I do love doughnuts (also, sadly – they are not good for me) although our relationship has lasted considerably longer than the one with the cop.  They are always there for me (as in by my side, on my hips, in my arteries).

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Michigan, especially in the summer time, is a very lovely place.  While its economy may be struggling, and its population dwindling,  its citizens are resourceful, resilient, and stalwart.  If you need reasons to enjoy a Michigan adventure, check out this post by Pithypants, as well as this post.

On a recent visit to Michigan, I met the lovely Peg-o-Leg.  It was determined during that brief interlude, somehow, that calories consumed in Michigan do not count.  I believe the precise formula is something like this “Expenditures made to support the economy result in the automatic removal of calories and saturated fat”.  Or some such.  I returned from my whirlwind trip over the 4th with a considerably lighter wallet and pants that would barely button.  So perhaps that theory is slightly flawed.  Whatever.

We spent a couple of days with all five grandchildren at our campground.  On the trip to return them (sunburned and bug-bitten) to their parents – we stopped in Clare, Michigan, at the Cops and Doughnuts Bakery.  This magical place is part museum, part bakery, part retail establishment and pure blood-glucose-raising fun.

When the century-old bakery was in within weeks of going under, the Clare police force (all 9 members) pooled their resources and purchased the enterprise.  They opened Cops and Doughnuts Bakery in 2009 and business has been expanding as rapidly as the waistlines of the multitudes of tourists who flock there for the baked goods, but stay for the fun.  Some of their merchandising slogans include”  DWI (Doughnuts Were Involved), Cereal Killer, and Cuffed and Stuffed.

They have their own “Cops Coffee” brand of coffee, merchandise of every kind from coffee mugs to baby clothing, and have even opened the “Traffic Stop Diner” in their third expansion just this year.  Menu items include “Stool Pigeon Sandwich” (chicken salad), “Sticky Situation Sandwich” (peanut butter, shredded carrots, sunflower nuts, raisins and honey), “Misdemeanor Weiner” and “Undercover Misdemeanor Weiner” (coney style), and “Grounds for Investigation Sandwich” (ground bologna) – as well as “Electric Chair Fries” and “Cold Case Slaw”.

The business has been showcased in several national news features.  They were designated one of Michigan’s  “50 Businesses to Watch” in 2011.  They now employ 28 employees (none are family members of the police-owners and in a small town like Clare, that is impressive) and are going to 24/7 operations this year.

The real draw, of the place, though is the bakery.  The aroma hits you from the street – yeasty, cinnamon-y, delightful aroma.  I did not get any good shots of the display rack as there were many, many people lined up its entire length and I was trying to corral 5 grandkids and one testy grandpa with low-blood sugar, but believe me when I say it is a feast for the eyes.  Racks of freshly baked, handmade cinnamon and pecan rolls.  Rows and rows of doughnuts, turnovers, and pastries of every size and shape.  The cinnamon rolls and pecan rolls are roughly the size of a salad plate ($2.79) and are easily the best baked goods I have ever tasted (including my own).

I applaud the Clare Policemen who rescued this gem and their business acumen, as well as their ability to laugh at and with the stereotypes inherent in such a venture.  It is a reminder that law enforcement does much more than lie in wait for me in speed traps serve and protect, they support their communities in a multitude of untold ways.  I wish them continued and rampant success.

As proper grandparents, Sweet-Cheeks and I spoiled them and loaded them up with sugar prior to giving them back to their parents.  I will leave you with these pictures – snapped during the feeding frenzy that punctuated a family adventure that included lots of hugs, a few tears, and sweetly-frosted memories…

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My Last Supper(s)

Cinnamon roll cheesecake.

Image via Wikipedia

A couple of Sundays ago I read an on-line article by Anna Stoessinger.  Anna is a writer who works in advertising and who, at the age of 36 was diagnosed with stomach cancer.  When she received her diagnosis, she immediately thought about dying young and missing out on a half century of life with her new husband.  After chemotherapy she received the news that she would have to have all of her stomach and part of her esophagus removed.  Anna and her husband embarked on a 10 day journey of last meals before her surgery.  Mostly they dined on gourmet things I hadn’t tried (or couldn’t afford even if I was inclined).  They dined with great gusto.

If I received news that I would be giving up my stomach and most food (she will be able to eat only very tiny amounts several times a day) I would concern myself, of course, with dying young and not getting to live a long and happy life with my Sweet Cheeks.  But, honestly, I’d be pissed about the meals I was going to miss.  Although I am not a gourmand, by any means, I do love good food.  So I thought about some of the meals that I would like to have in my final eating days.

I would start with a pecan roll from the Cops and Doughnuts bakery in Clare, Michigan.  It is a real place, I am not making this up.  I had a pecan roll there – my granddaughter had the freshly baked cinnamon roll.  Each was roughly the size of my head and I nearly wept with joy at the first bite.  I would drink several cups of their fresh stong coffee, joke around with their friendly staff, and move on.

I would have to have barbecue – lots of it.  I smoke some meats at home but for my final dinners I would go to Texas for brisket and red hots, Kansas City for ribs, and North Carolina for pulled pork.

I would have seafood – lots of it.  Grilled halibut, blue crabs, grouper, and some crispy bluegill fillets.  I would need crab cakes and broiled shrimp.  And I would have to try raw oysters – because it would be my last chance.  I would have ceviche and smoked salmon.

I would have my favorite soups – my own killer chili, fresh clam chowder, my gumbo, and roasted red pepper soup.

I would have butternut squash, creamed spinach and sweet corn.  I would eat dark sweet cherries and drink apple cider and eat fresh blueberries by the pint.

I would have chocolate, of every shade and fat content.  Butter pecan ice cream, and amaretto cherry ice cream. And just because they are my favorite guilty pleasure junk food – I would have Cheetos – the crunchy ones, not the wimpy baked puffy ones.  But I would not waste many of my last bites on junk foods.

Food is an important part of our lives – it is more than nourishment – it is a part of  the social fabric of our existence.  From the baby shower held in our honor before we are born – to the requisite dinner after our funeral/wake/memorial service,  every stage of our life is celebrated with food.

But given the choice of eating or spending years with my beloved, holding my grandchildren, and loving my sons – I would put on my big (well, they would certainly be bigger after all that food) girl panties and head for the hospital on the appointed day.  And I would consider myself lucky, as did Anna.


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