Cabbages and kings

Dunkin’ Donuts is to Rhode Island what La Boulangerie or Leidenheimer’s is to New Orleans. New Orleans is probably the French bread capital of the United States; Rhode Island is most definitely the fried dough capital of the United States and – by cholesterol-laden extension – of the universe. New Orleanians remember the drawn-out demise of Tastee Donuts in New Orleans which preceded the brief success and decline of the Krispy-Kreme presence. Alongside these two chains, the Northeast’s champ, Dunkin’, put up a pretty good showing; at last count there were still two Dunkin’ Donuts outlets in New Orleans (the Metro area, not Orleans Parish).

 But here in Rhode Island (there are statistics, by the way, that substantiate the claim about fried-dough consumption), the road to anywhere is paved with Dunkin Donuts, Honey Dew Donuts, Sip ‘n’ Dip Donuts, even the Canadian upstart Horton’s trying to invade this paradise of saturated fat. The eight-mile trip from our condo to Laurie’s former place of work afforded us at least ten different donut opportunities directly on the route of travel, including four Dunkin’ outlets.

So it was not unusual that Sunday saw me visit the closest Dunkin’ outlet (two blocks…it is just barely closer than the Sip ‘n’ Dip which is three blocks away) on the way back from my walk and getting the Sunday papers at Pik ‘n’ Pay. As I headed for the condo, swinging off State Street onto Thames, two substantial wild turkeys came right down the middle of Thames street towards me. They were walking on the yellow centerline, so I decided the best thing was to yield (I don’t know if Rhode Island has rules of the road applicable to turkeys). Striding confidently down the road, the two veered to their left without signaling and entered the parking lot belonging to the US Post Office, their black feathers glistening with a green and purple sheen. Oddly triangular bodies, propelled on substantial drumsticks.

I drove on without finding out what business brought them to town on Easter morning. Perhaps it was simply flaunting their presence on a holiday that they could feel confident about surviving.

And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Thames Street!

The image below is from a walk through Providence’s College Hill on Palm Sunday.