As someone who proudly hosted her last pre-pandemic birthday party inside a Wegmans, I spend a lot of time (too much time?) thinking about grocery stores.
Grocery store baked goods, on the other hand, not so much. That changed earlier this week, when I came across a tweet sharing the news that one of the most recognizable names in mass produced desserts had died.
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“Charles Entenmann passed away today at 92,” writer David Bashevkin shared. “His delicious creations graced Shabbos kiddushes across the world. If you had to eat one of these in his memory, what are you choosing?”
There are a few images that come to mind at the mention of Entenmann’s. A basement youth group meeting. A basement AA meeting. Temple. Shiva. Picking the crumbles off of a coffee cake doughnut. Trying to open your mouth that has been glued shut by the consistency of a white powdered mini doughnut wide enough to lick its sugary residue off of your fingers (you know the ones).
But I didn’t think of those. I had, instead, a sudden memory of a “fun anecdote” that comes up periodically in my family.
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