Claire Smith: Crunch time for waistlines as a crisp charmer flies in

Our hard-boiled deputy business editor – who lives on a diet of ham and cheese sandwiches and is rarely known to crack a smile - fairly skipped around the office at the sight of four giant boxes of fluffy doughnuts.

“I was a Krispy Kreme virgin, and now I’m a convert,” he said, helping himself to a selection including strawberries and cream and toffee and chocolate and hurtling round to the consumer desk with a detailed description of each one.

“That was the best – light, fluffy, delicious. And you can quote me on that,” he said, vibrating slightly after eating his third doughnut in quick succession.

Krispy Kreme, which is opening its first branch in Scotland next month, is well-known for its lavish launches. Krispy Kadets have already been spotted on Princes Street in Edinburgh handing out platefuls of sugary snacks and spreading the word about their impending arrival.

A junior reporter was persuaded to eat six on her way in to the office the other day and was bouncing around the walls all day.

“I ate six, I ate six. They were lovely but I ate six,” she told everyone (several times).

The rumours started to fly. Some people said the new store at Hermiston Gait would include a drive-in. “Oh no, it won’t be a drive- in” said one Krispy Kreme spokeswoman. “Yes, it will have a drive-in” said another (it will).

A friend of mine in London rang me to tell me that Krispy Kreme doughnuts are not made of flour but of potato. However, a quick call to the KK headquarters established this was an urban myth (not potato)

I must admit I was sceptical about the whole Krispy Kreme phenomenon. And Scotland hardly needs another highly calorific snack.

But I have been charmed by their style. The world would be a happier place if more companies adopted this kind of Willy Wonka approach to marketing. And anything that makes the deputy business editor skip like a five-year-old can’t be a completely bad thing.