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(Image credit: Tara Donne)
As I walked the streets of downtown Chicago, clutching three paper bags of half-eaten doughnuts from three different shops, I had to finally admit that my friends were right — I really did have a doughnut obsession. I could say it started when I moved to Portland, the day I walked into punk-souled Voodoo Doughnut and walked out with a bright-purple, Kool-Aid-dusted Grape Ape. But I know it started much earlier. For me, memory lane is paved with rainbow sprinkles.
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