Doughnut Vault Pumpkin Treat

December 19 2013 - 9:00 AM

A few weeks ago I was crossing Wacker Drive on a Thursday morning in sub-thirty-degree weather, slicing through the frigid wind lashing my face, when my passing thoughts of packing up and moving to San Diego were immediately shaken.  The shaking came courtesy of  programmed beats, loud thumping programmed beats emerging from a beaten-up jalopy truck.

There was no mistaking the truck’s faded, antique-soda-shop lettering .  It was none other than the food truck of the heralded Doughnut Shop, and was it pumping out some raps from Dr. Dre, at skyscraper-ratting volumes.  Talk about hypnosis.  I instantly felt compelled to find out what round, delectable treats the disheveled vehicle was harboring.  Or if my sudden pastry desire wasn’t what was needed satiating, it was certainly my curiosity of the identity of the doughnut DJ who was spitting out those fresh jams.

The spin doctor was an agent of The Doughnut Vault who looked more like your typical Reckless Records clerk than anyone you’d see on Yo MTV Raps!. What complicated matters was that he had one, single, solitary doughnut left, a pumpkin-glazed 0ld fashioned one.  Convinced that obtaining  this doughnut was a matter of fate, I felt no choice than to claim the annular treat for myself.

The doughnut itself was a small but decadent wonder.  What I loved about it was its restraint in terms of glaze.  It was more akin to a drizzle of pumpkin icing that topped the pastry, but it had a rich, creamy pumpkin flavor that never tasted synthetic as do the so-flavored pastries at major chains such as Starbucks or Dunkin.  The glaze easily dissolved on the tongue while the flavor, not nearly as fleeting as the texture, gradually lingered on the palate.

The doughnut itself had a tantalizingly crispy exterior, which provided a satisfying moment of crunchy resistance to the teeth before it crumbled away into a melt-in-your-mouth, savory, buttery reduction.  This was not my first time trying the Doughnut Vault – my first sample came courtesy of an assist from a co-worker – but on this occasion my appreciation for the fervor that stalks the establishment had finally and suddenly come into bloom.  If you’ve ever seen the end of the movie Young Frankenstein, you’ll know the kind of rapture I’m referencing. Heavenly choirs sang.  Yeah, it was that good.


The Doughnut Vault
401 N. Franklin St.
Chicago, IL 60654

Image courtesy of Doughnut Vault