Puff and I were loafing around the house last night, bored, with the heavy fog descending, trying to decide what we wanted to do. It being a Friday night, I suppose we were supposed to go to social events and trip the light fantastic until dawn, but that didn’t sound terribly appealing to us.
I drifted upstairs to check my email and see if I was seized with inspiration, when suddenly, I realized what we needed: doughnuts.
Being a progressive household, I instant messaged her because I was too lame to shout downstairs. I always reach a new level of conversational sophistication in instant messaging which never ceases to amaze me. Some day they are going to frame my work in a museum, I swear. Case in point:
“Butt ass cold…wanna go ride a cable car and get donuts?”
And so we decided that yes, we were going to go ride a cable car and get doughnuts. This is because the California Street cable car stops only two blocks down from Bob’s, which has what I believe to be the best doughnuts in the City. And hey, it’s not just me, see! As you can see, some of the reviews wax rather poetic, which I believe indicates just how excellent these doughnuts are. And when you combine doughnuts with sitting smugly on a cable car…oh yes.
I had my first Bob’s doughnut on a misty, cold night as well. I remember standing on the corner of California and Polk waiting to grab the cable car back, and stuffing a plain glazed yeast doughnut into my mouth. It was a magical moment. The doughnut was light and airy, with this rich complex flavour and just a hint of vanilla to excite the tongue. As I sank my teeth in, I experienced a deep fried sugary rush.
Later, I tried salting a plain glazed yeast, and let me assure you, this is the way to go. The salt, fat, sugar: American holy trinity.
They are best hot and fresh, so hot they almost burn the fingers, crispy oozing sweetness. I wish that their website had a fresh doughnut countdown, or an RSS alert so that I would know when a batch was about to be ready. I would hasten to Polk Street at all hours of the day or night for fresh, hot doughnuts. Yes.
At any rate, we briskly set forth into the City, bundled up against the unfavourable weather, and managed to grab a car pretty quickly once we hit California street. The thing about the cable cars, for me, is that they have a magical, cool, excellent mystique. I suddenly feel very 1950s on a cable car, setting out on an adventure into the new world. Additionally, the MUNI fast pass also covers cable cars, so I love flashing it at the operator while watching the tourists dig up $5. I really cannot imagine paying $5 to ride a cable car, and so there’s a sense of immense smugness in my heart when I see someone else doing it. I realize that this is not terribly charitable.
Anyway, we sat on the outside because it was not that cold yet, and watched the City slowly move by.
I actually prefer the cable cars to the buses because I think that they run more smoothly. The buses jerk and fart their way painstakingly through the City, while the cable cars hum briskly along to their destination. I was, in fact, so caught up in the moment that Puff had to bodily drag me off at Polk Street so that we could proceed to Bob’s.
I got two plain glazed and two maple, because maple is my favourite doughnut topping. Mmm…maple. Puff got one plain, one maple, and two chocolate. We ate one apiece lickety split waiting for the car back, but we got cold and restless, so we walked down to catch the 38 instead. In the Transbay, we ate another doughnut each while waiting for the 108, attracting looks of envy from all sides. I offered to trade a doughnut for a beer with the man who had a case of Fat Tire, but he was having none of it. Alas.
When the bus came, we licked our fingers and filed on, our mission complete. When there are doughnuts, all is right with the world.