Late night revelers in the Polk Gulch District still not having found satiation of their cravings in either drink or companionship by the time of last call at any of the neighborhood’s various night spots have one last recourse. He goes by the name Bob and in the wee hours of the morning when you find yourself alone, without the fortitude to see you to the dawn, he’s got what you need. He sells donuts and he’s got one with your name on it.
Whether it’s plain or chocolate, jelly or cream-filled, pick your poison and you’ll find it there at Bob’s Donuts on Polk Street between Sacramento and Clay Streets, waiting for you patiently under glass. It’s an old-school sort of place used to serving bleary-eyed night hawks, the type of joint where they know how to make a mean old-fashioned, the kind that comes in chocolate, maple, or glazed.
Not to say this necessarily has to happen in the middle of the night, the desperate hidden act of the weak-willed and sugar-craving. You might start your day bright and early with a stop at Bob’s for a cinnamon roll or crumb cake, or take one of those three apple fritter lunches no one likes to admit to. Bob’s Donuts is open round-the-clock seven days a week, always offering temporary solutions to your troubles, even if those solutions tend to have holes in the middle of them.
You can find all the classic waist-widening indulgences at Bob’s Donuts—almond rings, cheese danish, butter croissants, peanut butter cookies, custard bars—and they start baking most afternoons at four PM (just in time for Happy Hour), two PM on weekends, for those of you who like to start their weekends at two o’clock on Friday, that is. What you won’t find at Bob’s Donuts is Bob. He’s long gone, but his name lives on, his work continued by a staff of bakers who always have plenty of dough when you need your fried cakes fix. To find out what they’ve got to offer, you can talk to a “donut specialist” by calling 415-776-3141 any time of day or night.
J. Eric Miller is a highly-prized but regrettably not sustainable local resource. He continues to document local lore and events despite his natural habitat rapidly diminishing. A downloadable, virtual J. Eric Miller is in the early planning stages.