There will always be that one glorious dish that is near and dear to your heart, a food that is synonymous with satisfaction and perfection. We asked our friends in the food and editorial world to write #FoodOdes to the dishes that they love. Here, an ode to Doughnut Plant‘s matcha doughnut from Sad Desk Lunch‘s Kira Fisher (@kiiixfish).

I’ve always veered towards the savory rather than the sweet. A pint of ice cream will last forever in my fridge, and when my blood sugar’s low I reach towards French fries. Or potato chips. Or pretzels. (You get the idea.) However, there’s one exception. Green tea-flavored sweets. I’ve eaten green tea cupcakes, macarons, pound cake, shortbread—if it’s matcha flavored, you bet I’m ordering it. However, there’s one particular confection that gets my eyes gooey, my stomach begging, and that is the matcha green tea doughnut at Doughnut Plant.

The green tea donut has a crisp matcha glaze—not too cloying sweet, with prominent pure matcha flavor—that you bite through before getting to the inky, forest green innard. The cake itself is perfect, with a slight bitter edge that counters the fundamental sugary nature of the whole doughnut. You can finish it in four bites and there’s always a little bit of the hardened glaze left over on your fingertips. It’s perfect. I could eat three in a row. Myth tells me there’s a yeast doughnut version of it, but I’ve never seen it in person.

The green tea doughnut has a crisp matcha glaze—not too cloying sweet, with prominent pure matcha flavor—that you bite through before getting to the inky, forest green innard.

But the real pleasure in the matcha doughnut is in the fact that it’s not available everyday. I would have memorized the dates Doughnut Plant sells them, but I just can’t have access to that temptation. I’d rather play the game of strolling by Doughnut Plant near my office and telling myself, If they have the matcha donut, I’ll get a donut, walking in, peeking at the available kinds, more times than often not seeing the doughnut I truly want, then settling for another flavor. Rinse and repeat.  Except when it’s matcha doughnut day and my heart quickens.

A few weekends ago I popped into Doughnut Plant and saw that this Saturday (or actually every Saturday) was my lucky day. Except, as I looked into the racks of doughnuts ready for pillage, I only saw three matcha left, excluding the display. I eyed the seven people ahead of me. I saw one guy order one. Two left. I could have two. I deserve two. I wait. More people go. Another doughnut is conquered. It’s alright, one is better. Two would have been excessive  Then it was just me and the couple ahead of me. I notice that the girl is wearing a manga backpack. That person is going to take the last doughnut. That Manga Backpack is sooooo going to eat the last doughnut. Oh my god I want that doughnut when was the last time I had that doughnut.

They order the doughnut.

I’m devastated. But what if there are more in the back? I ask. Someone looks back. “Nope, that was the last one.” I pause. What about the display doughnut? “You really want the display doughnut?” Yes, I respond, because I know cake doughnuts have an excellent shelf life. I order it and maybe $50 dollars worth of other doughnuts (It was for a birthday party!). The lady is packing my ridiculous amount of doughnuts into a box longer than my face, and then suddenly, as I’m about to pay, a man steps out of the kitchen holding one last light green glazed baked perfection of a ring with that perfect icing outline, the one makes my heart go gooey. “Does anybody want the real last Matcha doughnut?” I yelled yes. Then I ate two straight in a row.