- Photo by Amy T. Granite
A box holding the remains of a dozen donuts sits on a counter nearby. My stomach is angry—the usual morning-after effect—and yet, I haven’t brought myself to toss the tasty culprits into the trash.
This is a self-intervention. My donut binge must end.
I really thought these would be different. I didn’t have the strength to eat three or four whole like last time, so taking a bite or two out of each donut seemed like a reasonable way to do research and still enjoy. Right?
It didn’t happen that way. Whole donuts were pulverized. Several disfigured donuts remain in the crumby graveyard. Worst of all, I’m more than qualified to write informative, detailed product reviews of antacids and gas medicine.
What makes this a disease is that it’s déjà vu from last week, when my research officially began with, yes, a dozen from Donut Star (601 W. Washington St. in Mission Hills). I’d been before but needed to experience more of a cross section before making any bold statements.
Frankly, I didn’t think much of bringing home a dozen. I knew I’d be stuffed from a pizza supper and that pounding even a couple afterward would be unlikely. But when I approached the box at around 11 p.m.—just for a look and maybe a bite—what occurred next is the stuff gluttonous teenagers’ wet dreams are made of.
I broke off the end of a glazed, old fashioned donut and popped the morsel into my mouth. Hot damn. I had held it up to the light. Looks like an old fashioned. Tangy like one, too. But when I bit through the crunchy, glazed exterior, my mouth met a deceptively light, cakey texture, a welcome surprise because this style often yields more of a dense, sometimes hard, confection.
It was impossible to put it down, even though the pepperoni in my stomach didn’t want company. If this one tasted that good, what about the rest? I went for a glazed ring and chocolate bar, committing gastro-suicide with near-involuntary movements that kept my hands reaching for donuts.
Suffice to say, Donut Star’s a winner. After sacrificing my body to this cause, I can whole-heartedly recommend the standout cake donuts, frosted any which way; old fashioned, with glaze; and the fluffy cinnamon rolls that go poof and practically evaporate in your mouth. What makes these ’nuts so good is that each variety tastes distinctive, versus other places where fryer and oil flavors bleed from donut to donut.
I wasn’t feeling the apple fritter. For those, Igo to Rose Donuts (5201 Linda Vista Road in Linda Vista), whose killer milkshakes and breakfast sandwiches I’ve profiled before. Rose’s makes fist-sized blueberry-apple fritters that have a perfect comingling of crisp, sugary glaze; dense, fried dough; and a sticky center. They’re a must.
In my last column, “Breakfast on Voltaire,” I mentioned Christie’s Donuts (3710 Voltaire St.in Point Loma) and asked readers to write in if they’d had a chance to try the place out for me. My good friend, Mr. O.B., obliged and says the maple-bar ice-cream sandwich is worth a visit. Now you know.