The Sac Rag

Last fall, I was gaga over the prospective opening of Doughbot, a funky, irreverent doughnut dispensary way too close to my home. When it finally opened, I was less than whelmed. I found the doughnuts chewy and unappealing, the toppings one-dimensional, and the frequent sell-outs and equipment related shut downs amateurish.

However, less than a year after opening, this doughbot is running on all doughy cylinders. I hadn’t visited in over six months and stopped in on a whim needing coffee more than a treat. Not one to pass up a doughnut (for the sake of research) I sampled one, the blueberry/cornmeal, and knew right away that things had changed at the d-bot.

This doughnut was mind-blowing: dense, sugary, fruity, and ever so slightly crunchy. I had to try another. I tried the maple bacon. Hard to screw that up, yes? However, d-bot’s initial offering last year was, to put it hyperbolically, a doughbortion. There’s nothing sadder than a disgusting soggy bacon doughball. This current incarnation however, was a thing of culinary beauty. It was pillowy, bacony, syrupy without being cloying. I was in heaven. Doughbot had become that thing that I had hoped for, the best doughnut shop in town.

I’m a convert. I’m sold. I’m investing in Ukrainian diet pills for the duration.

Doughbot- 2226 10th St (at W). 444-5157, www.doughbotdonuts.com

This is all I know. The space formerly occupied by Lounge on 20 is slated to become a German eatery and bar. Now, I’m sure, with only about 10 seconds of thinking, you could come up with a funny and mostly crude name invoking sausages that would play up the new restaurant’s Lavender Heights location.

To look at it from the street, you’d think it was a front for the Russian Mafia, or a grade D chain out of Minneapolis that some optimistic Korean family bought into for a small fortune that they try to repay while still saving enough to send their kids to Stanford, or maybe just a run-down storefront that switches from owner to owner with promiscuous regularity, never quite finding that sweet spot of pizza satisfaction. Trust me though, it’s an ugly duckling with a swan-like beauty within.

You’ve probably seen it before, on J Street, right across from the old Shakey’s, right next to that culinary asylum known as Opa Opa, with a simple sign that says “PIZZA.” If you’re a savvy consumer, you’ve probably never stepped foot in the place. Man, are you missing out.

In no particular order here are the highlights: Continue reading “Hot City Pizza- Delightfully Shabby”