I’ve
never been to Bob’s Donuts—the 24 hour pastry shop in Nob Hill—during the day. I’ve
spent many Saturday nights sitting propped up on the cushioned stools of the
Bob’s bar, munching on doughnuts and drinking milk with friends. The majority
of the times I’ve been there it’s between 9 p.m. and 2 a.m., the line winds out
the door, and young, drunken adults shuffle their way slowly to the front, patient
and eager. At these hours, it makes sense there’s a homey, warm, grungy-on-the-outside
looking doughnut shop gracefully placed among the many trashy bars and
clubs—there’s even a Good Vibrations shop across the street. Bob’s is a sort of
beacon.
I
walk in to Bob’s a little after 10 a.m. on a Thursday. There’s no line (only a
couple of people in front of me), no drunken 20 or 30 somethings, and no
mentions of the dildos known to be across the street. Instead there’s types of
customers I don’t usually see at Bob’s--a lady with straight blonde, wearing
flip flops and a camouflage backpack that buys a plain, sugar doughnut, an old
man at one of the back tables reading a newspaper, a family that looks like two
grandparents and a young girl that doesn’t look older than five, a man in a
long-sleeved button down shirt tucked into his slacks that can’t help but take
a bite of his chocolate old fashioned before he hurries out the door.
The
space is comforting. My boyfriend has said that all doughnut places are the
same, but there’s something sentimental about Bob’s. Maybe it has to do with
the décor—the large painting of pastries on what looks like a grassy hill (but
it’s hard to tell) on the wall behind the counter, or the various framed doughnut-themed
portraits and photographs on the walls that the tables along the side of the
shop are fastened to. There’s various signs scattered on the walls of the shop
to, one says “Coffee: if you’re not shaking, you need another cup,” and another
says “Be healthy, drink milk.” The steaming pots of coffee on the counter by
the register tempt me. But it could also just be welcoming atmosphere in this
shop that has continuously drawn me here for the past three years. Something
about the towers of pink doughnut boxes stacked on the counter, or the fun late
nights with friends where we watched Braveheart on the large TV near the back
of the shop.
Today,
I can see I’ll have no trouble finding a seat; the place is pretty empty.
Behind the counter three women work—one has a head of gray hair, and her back
is turned most of the time I’m there as she determinedly scrubs a rack in the
large sink; one looks to be in her 20s, and is making fresh doughnuts; and one
is at the cash register. I walk up and ask if they have any chocolate old
fashions ready—the young woman is making fresh ones as we speak and the cashier
carefully plucks one for me, warning that it’s hot.
I’m
a little disappointed in myself when I realize I just ordered my go-to menu
item at Bob’s, but I don’t care. Their chocolate old-fashioneds are amazing.
They’re crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and since they’re dipped
in chocolate, it gives it a moist, creamy feel that balances the textures out
and keeps it from seeming dry. Bob’s Donuts makes perfect chocolate
old-fashioneds and I debate in my head whether I should get another or not
after devouring the one I just purchased.
However,
I decide against it, which I know for certain I will regret later. But I stand
and as I make my way to the exit, I notice the line has grown, and is now out
the door as I take my leave.
My
order:
Glazed
doughnut (bought for a friend) and chocolate old fashioned = $2.75
Ratings
on a 4 doughnut scale:
Food:
3
doughnuts
Price:
3
doughnuts
Location:
1
doughnut
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