Donuts Delite

Regulars.

The original xonuts. Donuts. Donuts classic. We were regulars here before we went anywhere else. Then, later, we expanded to Ridge Donuts (“Ronuts”) and some other places like Bob’s Diner (Bonuts) and Taco Bell (Tonuts) and Penn Yan Diner (PYonuts). Early in the week, before we settle on a destination, we talk of “xonuts.” E.G.,:

Bo: xonuts this week?

Dave: Thursday? 7 a.m.?

Bo: Yah. Your turn to call the ball.

Dave: Ronuts? Or Donuts classic?

Bo: Either:

Dave: Ronuts it is.

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March 29, 2018: this time, it’s bloggable.

The building is chic. It’s plopped right in the middle of Culver Road, so the city designers (I can only assume) had to then curve Culver to the west to avoid the donuts. I’m pretty sure the building is in the city, but Irondequoit is mere feet away.

We met in the parking lot at 6:57 a.m. (sunrise) and crossed the street together. Then we entered the little quick-e-mart there and bought some lotto tickets.

Then, back across the street, dodging the school buses that rumble along at this hour. In the little vestibule, Dave noticed a vintage sign / advertisement with which the donut shop claimed victory over its myriad donut enemies.

There was a line at the counter, but we do not order at the counter. Instead, we stand to the side, look over the shoulders of the hoi polloi, and comment on what donuts we think we want, or what donuts we think are donuts (“I think those are cronuts”), or what we think certain donuts are (sometimes the daily specials are mysterious. Today there were Easter eggs). We got our normal booth in the “cave,” where an overhang provides a little seclusion. There were but a few people at other booths, but an hour later, by 8 a.m., the place really started to fill up.

The good ol’ days were back: music from the 1950s and 1960s played over the speakers. Some of the selections were: “Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows” by Leslie Gore (this subconsciously primed Dave to mention “sunshine and lollipops” later in the conversation), “Time is on My Side” by the Rolling Stones, and “A Whiter Shade of Pale” by Procol Harum.

Our regular waitress stopped by shortly to take our order. No menus necessary. Just coffee and donuts today ($4 for two donuts and coffee! Upcharge for specialty donuts). Dave got an M&M on chocolate frosted, and a cronut. Bo got the red raspberry and a glazed buttermilk.

Then we scratched off the lotto tickets. Bo won a small sum (he had a scratchin’-quarter that was a winner; Dave had a scratchin’-quarter that was a loser), and Bo owed Dave from [REDACTED], so the ticket was transferred to Dave’s ownership.

Almost immediately, the donuts arrived.

The red raspberry comes in two varieties. One has a red drizzle atop. This version is for sociopaths. The second, good, version has spherical sprinkles atop and, if you’re lucky, a raspberry gummy. The spherical sprinkles are key because they simulate raspberry seeds. In the year 4545, when we’re all eating flavored paste, the Donuts Delite red raspberry donut will remain treasured for its ability to simulate what “froot” once felt and tasted like.

Dave’s donuts were contrasting experiences. On the one hand, the cronut was a delicious departure from regular donuts. It was thick. Heavy. Meaty. The consistency screamed stale, but that was a false alarm. The cronut was intentionally, delicately made to emulate heaviness while delivering the flavor and reliability of a donut. It felt like all the flakes and all the dough had been emulsified by butter, yet the treat refused to deliver the copious amounts of butter. It was perfection. Harmony for all the senses.

The M&M donut was also, surprisingly refreshing. It was freshly made (justifying the paltry upcharge), and balanced flavor, visual appeal, and satiation perfectly. Some days, candy toppings can overwhelm the donut experience. But not today. Well played, Donuts Delite. Well played.

On previous occasions, when bellies feel emptier and a 5 mile run, or longer, is in the offing, the cannoli donut has been known to be consumed by members of The Xonuts Blog.

It’s dense. It’s a chore. But it’s one of the best chores you can choose for yourself. The powder is a warning sign akin to the flesh colorings of a poison dart frog—it warns potential predators.

These predators of the cannoli donut, seeing the cocoon of white powder, know what’s in store. The donuts are kept refrigerated such that the thick custard within is chilled, as are the little chocolate chips that lurk in the interior like the temple guards in “Legends of the Hidden Temple.” Except without (most of the) scary.

We had some upcharges for the specialty donuts we ordered. Maybe both of Dave’s, but maybe the red raspberry, too. We’re not sure. Anyway, the whole thing, with coffees, ran to a little over $10.

Don’t miss Donuts Delite. If you’re more of a savory person, they have breakfast pizza, and during the day they are also a Salvatore’s Pizza, so they have, like, real food. But that’s neither here nor there. Don’t miss Donuts Delite. It’s the myocardium in the anatomy of Rochester breakfasts.

With 10 as a must-eat, this dining experience rates a 9.

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Don’t miss: The cannoli donut. ‘Nuff said.

Pro tip #1: Hit up the 7-11 across the street for some lotto tickets! Don’t forget to bring a coin for scratchin’!

Pro tip #1a: There’s a new pothole in the 7-11 parking lot. Dave discovered it in the most painful way possible.

Pro tip #2: Check out the daily donut specials in the front display case before you order!