Glazed

While a Peace Corps volunteer in Ecuador, I had a tough time finding doughnuts. Once back in the states, my third food purchase was a dozen doughnuts. I drove less than a block from the store before the pink box found a place on my lap. At a red light, mid bite, I looked to my left and made eye contact with two cute girls in a Volkswagen Jetta. The driver seemed disgusted, but the passenger looked jealous. I’m sure she wanted a doughnut, and having recently returned from helping those less fortunate than myself, I almost rolled down the window and offered her one. After all, doughnuts are one of the finest food products imaginable. I’m sure there’s some data out there suggesting a diet rich in doughnuts might not be wise, which means I’ll just have to run more or cut out some other junk food because I just had my first Doughboy’s doughnut, and I’ve got the constant doughnut craving again.

My wife, Kat, and I visited Doughboy’s Donuts pretty early on a Saturday. Inside they’ve got a handful of stools and tables and a big flat screen, which was tuned into the news. There’s not really much to say about the décor of the place unless you count what’s behind the glass cases: the not-so-subtle beauty of hundreds of freshly fried and finely decorated doughnuts.

One server told me they prepare between 70 and 80 doughnut types daily, and because Doughboy’s makes them throughout the day, you stand a darn good chance of getting something fresh. After the doughnuts, my second favorite thing about Doughboy’s was all of the happy people. I watched child after child walk through the front door and start trembling with happiness, each with eyes bigger than their stomachs. I, along with a chunk of the adult clientele, did the same thing.

Luckily the staff was patient because I couldn’t decide what to order. Something cakey, a cinnamon roll, maybe some sprinkles, perhaps glazed, something filled with creamy goodness, or maybe grab a dozen ($8.95, excluding premium doughnuts) and avoid those tough choices. In the end, Kat ordered a crumb raised ($.85) and a small decaf coffee ($1.45). I started to order the DB Big Boy ($5.50), which the server described as “like seven to 10 glazed doughnuts,” but Kat’s elbow in my ribs suggested I try something more modest. Eventually, I picked the buttermilk bar ($.95) and the maple bar ($.95).

Doughboy’s makes some pretty tasty doughnuts, particularly their buttermilk bar. It was fresh and crumbly and by far one of the better buttermilk doughnuts I’ve eaten. The coffee, while fine, wasn’t anything special.

After eating two incredibly sweet doughnuts, I needed something savory. The ham and cheese croissant ($2.50) warmed up for me by the server was a great choice. The ham was thinly sliced and, while perfectly edible, tasted fairly low-grade. However, Doughboy’s melts cheese throughout the croissant, and its sharp flavor wonderfully contrasted the rich, slightly sweet flavor of the croissant.

I know it’s a little late considering the building is erected, but I wanted to see more of the kitchen, where the magic happens. From the counter, I only saw the glazing trough. The doughnut chef dipped this long watering can of sorts into a vat of molten glaze and then rained it down upon a batch of happily awaiting raised doughnuts. They looked so warm and sticky and I wanted one badly.