LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
EATING Out |
by Marion McGrath |
Fractured Prune: The Hole Truth
Homer Simpson and I share a number of bad habits. While I swore off Duff beer a number of years ago, I still, just like Homer, love, love doughnuts. In one episode of the show, Homer sold his soul to the Devil for a doughnut (I can relate). For his torture he was forced by demons to eat all the doughnuts in Hell. The plan backfired when he actually did eat all the doughnuts in Hell and was still hungry for more. Are you with me on this? If so, you'll understand that when our friend Jeffrey stopped by our house one Saturday morning, and during the course of the conversation asked us if we had gone to the Fractured Prune on Route One it got my attention. It didn't sound like a place I'd want to visit, or something I'd like to see, but then he mentioned the magic words, "Hot Doughnuts." Now that got my attention. Within the hour Susan and I, and visiting guests, hopped into the car, and like chubby little homing pigeons came right to roost at a little shopping center on Route One with a brightly colored sign that announced, sure enough, Fractured Prune. We smelled it as soon as we got out of the car and almost tripped over each other to get inside. Make sure you mention that you are a Fractured Prune Virgin, and you'll get a free doughnut! (Lost Virginity never came so easily or gratifyingly.) Here's how it works: you can select from the Specialty Donut menu, which has such irresistible choices as Reese's Cup (peanut butter glaze, chocolate mini morsels); French Toast (maple glaze, cinnamon sugar); or Morning Buzz (mocha glaze, Oreo cookie crumbs). There are sixteen more to choose from, each one as tempting as the next. If you are more of a free spirit (and I know you probably are) you can roll your own. Pick one from a choice of sixteen glazes, add a selection from eight toppings, and top it off with a choice of three different kinds of sugars. Next, your "custom" doughnuts are fried right there as you wait, rigged out just like you ordered, and served to you piping hot. My first bite of my caramel glazed, coconut topped, powdered sugar dusted was so heavenly, that I think I heard the Angels sing. (Since we're so close to the ocean, it might have been those Mermaids singing each to each.) The menu also lists Bagels, and Breakfast Sandwiches, but why bother? You know full well why you're here, and the bagel was not the draw. Release your own inner Homer and see just how many you can eat. I know I personally have always wondered just how many Krispy Kremes I could down in a single sitting, and once actually tried to find out. It was a bad idea, made worse by the fact that after downing many, many crabs and many, many, many beers I made the slurred suggestion to my friends that since the Krispy Kreme was right across the highway why didn't we go over and I could finally discover just how many I could eat. Imagine my dismay when I could barely eat two! Then double that dismay and imagine how I felt the next morning with a beer/sugar hangover. While the four of us were savoring our doughnuts, I turned over the menu and found the actual history of the goofiness of the name Fractured Prune. Here, according to the copy, is: "How the Fractured Prune got its name. When Tom Parshall purchased Josh's 46th Street Market in 1976, he was thinking about a new name for his enterprise. Several friends gave him suggestions, but he felt they all lacked imagination and individuality. While reading though the abstract of the land he had bought, an unusual name caught his eye. In the late 1800s, a woman named Prunella Shriek had owned much of the land in that area. Tom didn't think too much about it until one day he was browsing through the Baltimore Library and came across a book titled "Ocean City Lore." As he looked through it, he was thrilled to see Prunella Shriek's name, with a paragraph devoted to her. "Even though she was in her seventies, Prunella was the only woman who competed with men in traditionally men's sports, such as ice skating races and skiing competitions. She was an excellent tennis player and was county ping-pong champion circa 1895. [you can stop here and say, hmmmm.] Being older and somewhat brittle, she often returned from some of the more vigorous competitions in a wheel chair or on crutches. Thus the townspeople began to lovingly refer to her as 'Fractured Prunella." When Tom read this, a voice in his head said, 'Hello!' He would name his new enterprise after this wonderful and spunky old lady and call it Fractured Prune." Fact or urban legend? You decide. Regardless, head over to the Fractured Prune and declare your virginity. Fractured Prune, 20214 Coastal Highway, Rehoboth Beach DE, 302-227-0747. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 16, No. 9 July 14, 2006 |