We asked a New York resident to give us the skinny on one of the city's most bizarre culinary crazes, the Cronut.
I was asked to write about the Cronut.
The magical combination of Croissant and Donut.
The cake that has eaten Manhattan.
The queues that form at 6AM.
The $10 you'll have to fork over to eat one.
I had a long languid piece penned.
It was probably going to be profound and boring.
About how the Cronut represents both the best
and worst of city living.
Then I remembered the best thing about the Cronut.
It's not really about the food. It's about the status, the brag.
It's about the queue, the people you meet.
The participation in something totally facile, and the fact
no one gives a fuck that it's facile.
If you want it, you gotta earn it.
But above all, it's about New York.
That's why I'm not going to tell you what it tastes like.
If you want it that bad, you'll just have to get on a
plane to taste it.