People who know me, know of my fondness for donuts; there aren’t many days that I don’t have one. It began when I used to stop by for one before Hebrew school, at a since-gone place next to the venerable T-Bone Diner.
(Let me say right now, that I recently had my annual physical, and not only do I weigh the same as I did last year, but thanks to the good people at Pfizer, my cholesterol count is 135 (52/73)).
I usually have an Entenmann’s Rich Frosted at breakfast, but once-a-week at work, we get from the Donut Plant on the Lower East Side - a co-worker lives on the same block. These are donuts nonpareil. Nothing artificial, the flavors change with seasonal availability, and a blueberry is made with real blueberries. They don’t come cheap ($2.50 each), but are truly amazing. Frank Sinatra, who I would generally defer to in a matter such as this, was a big Entenmann's fan, but he didn’t live to see the Donut Plant. I can honestly say that I’ve never had a better donut, nor do I expect to.
That doesn’t mean though, there isn’t room for a more quotidian-type, and that’s where the Donut Pub on 14th Street comes in. These are more like ‘Dunkin Donuts’-type donuts, except they taste 5x better, the selection is greater, and the people are super-friendly. I always go for the chocolate frosted (no sprinkles). They also sell an awesome black-and-white cookie. It’s the kind of place that you fear one day you’ll find has become another Duane Reade. I think I’d be more bummed if Donut Pub went away, rather than Donut Plant. I don’t think the former is as easily reproducible.
For the “doughnut” versus “donut” debate, see here.
Let me just note too, that Vanishing New York recently wrote about the building that houses Donut Pub, and I’ll be writing more about my Lipitor experience, soon.
Comments