Pumpkin Muffin, My Beloved.

Pumpkin Muffin, My Beloved.

Taylor Ross, Staff Writer

The pumpkin muffins at the Grind are so good.

Oh my goodness, they are so good.

The first time I had a Grind pumpkin muffin was on a Monday. My friends and I had been complaining about the disappearance of muffins from the Grind. But alas, that day, I saw it. A beautiful cinnamon topped frosting drizzled muffin of excellence. I looked at my friend with puppy dog eyes and asked just for a little nibble. A little taste, even. To my delight, he accepted, offering me a piece of his heavenly pastry. 

My life was changed forever.

I raced to the Grind to get my own. One nibble would not be enough; no, I needed my own. After acquiring my glorious muffin, I grabbed a fork, my customary but yet controversial way to eat Grind muffins, and sat back down. I was in heaven once again. The moist cake paired alongside the cinnamon crumble atop with the perfect combination of sugar from the frosting… it was delectable. It tasted like fall, like an apple orchard and pumpkin pie all combined into one warm treat.

Almost every day since then, I have gotten a pumpkin muffin from the Grind. My friends have shared the same sentiment as well. This muffin was amazing. But yet… I feared. I feared that one day my muffin would disappear. Like the leaves falling from the trees, one day the Grind pumpkin muffin would go away too. As all pumpkin treats must do, the pumpkin spice latte or the slightly less enjoyed iced pumpkin spice latte, it would go away at one point, never to be seen again until the next autumn season. But until that fateful day, I will enjoy my pumpkin muffin. I will embrace it with open arms and an open mouth until it leaves me.

It was research time. I needed to get a pumpkin muffin every day, to discover what made them so delicious.

Monday: I claim my pumpkin muffin and begin my search for other pumpkin muffin enjoyers. First victim? Lizzy Bailey, sophomore. She had this to say: “They’re so good.” I must agree with this sentiment. 

Tuesday: Once again, I receive my pastry of joy. I see another fanatic of the baked delight, senior Robert Pasinato. “It’s amazing,” he said. “It’s so good. I can taste the pumpkin.” Truer words were never spoken. 

Wednesday: Oh no. It was gone. My fears have finally been realized, manifested into existence. Did I become too attached? Too close to something that I must have known would leave my grasp? I was too distraught to talk to anyone. I must deal with this solo, as the lone Pumpkin Muffin Defender. 

Thursday: I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will never feel the joy I felt with the pumpkin muffin. It’s only a faint memory now, one I reach for but never achieve. I see if anyone else remembers the glory of the muffin. For their own safety, this person has asked to remain anonymous. “The pumpkin muffin is okay. I’d rate it a six or seven out of ten.”


Impossible. This isn’t possible. Someone who does not enjoy the pumpkin muffin as much as I? Something is not right. They must have accidentally tried the blueberry muffin, or the glazed donut, or…

Friday: They have returned! I achieved my pumpkiny pastry once more (I admit, I’m running out of ways to say pumpkin muffin.) It’s just as perfect as I remember it, yet tastes sweeter with its return to me. My friend, sophomore Nora Sharman, asks for a little nibble. A little taste, even. I allow her to do so. “That was so good,” she said as she went to go get her own muffin. A bit of my joy has now been spread to others.

And I think that’s the moral of the story. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks of what I enjoy; what matters is that it makes me happy, and If I get to share a little bit of that joy with others, then I’d say that’s a win.

I love you, Grind pumpkin muffin.