Last Sunday night felt like a doughnut indulgence sorta night, so we ventured southward to Chelsea to pay a visit to the Doughnut Plant. Sven was scheduled to board a jet plane to Sao Paolo Monday morning anyhow — figured we might as well prep the tummy for the impending onslaught of churrascos and caipirinhas, hehe.
We were first introduced to this devilishly decadent place by cousin Ellen and her BF Mykie last summer. They brought to our doorstep a colorful array of fried dough, which I do fondly recall feasting upon with glee.
After a mouthwatering perusal of the online menu this time, I was looking most forward to the vanilla bean yeast, the tres leches, and the pistachio doughnut. (Pathetic that my mouth is watering right now as I type out these flavors.)
Here’s the gargantuan wall-mounted backlit menu we found ourselves gazing at:
We were met with disappointment at this late hour though (9pm on a Sunday), as indicated by the few lonesome slim pickin’s behind this glass case. A peanut butter with homemade blackberry jam, a cinnamon sugar cake doughnut, and a triple chocolate cake doughnut.
BUT WAIT!! All was not lost — they still had a couple of these lil’ guys left. Creme brulee-filled mini donuts, smothered in a thick, luscious glaze… sufficient to quell our sugar-craving tummies for the night.
We cleaned up shop by bringing home one of each of the other three too. (Didn’t wanna hurt their feelings, ya know?…)