This weekend will be pleasant enough. Good things will happen. You will eat at nice restaurants. See
friends. Squeeze sand between your toes. Apply lotion to various backs.
On Monday, however, you’ll look inside yourself and realize something is missing.
That something: a tempura-battered, deep-fried doughnut breakfast sandwich.
Fortunately, at that precise moment, Bleeding Heart Bakery & Café will debut in West Town. Timing is everything when it comes to deep-fried doughnut sandwiches.
Michelle and Vinny Garcia—the genial, inked-up Kurt and Courtney of televised baking competitions—teamed with the guys from the Fifty/50 and Roots Pizza for something that’s part diner, part bakery, part ice cream shop, part coffee bar, part laboratory run by anarchist bakers. The walls are black and hot pink; the chairs the color of bumper cars. In short, it’s where Willy Wonka would brunch with those nice boys from A Clockwork Orange.
You’ll come when it’s tragically late (they’ll be open 24 hours on weekends) and you’ll need a warm, fried-to-order doughnut before something seriously bad happens. Order The Death of John Waters: The Divine Doughnut—maple-whiskey-soaked doughnut with a candied bacon crust—then say a tiny prayer to whatever whiskey-doughnut god you worship.
Suitably calm, you’ll navigate between fried green tomato benedicts, chocolate brioche french toast, bratwurst skillets and salted caramel waffles.
Waffles being the new doughnuts.
On Monday, however, you’ll look inside yourself and realize something is missing.
That something: a tempura-battered, deep-fried doughnut breakfast sandwich.
Fortunately, at that precise moment, Bleeding Heart Bakery & Café will debut in West Town. Timing is everything when it comes to deep-fried doughnut sandwiches.
Michelle and Vinny Garcia—the genial, inked-up Kurt and Courtney of televised baking competitions—teamed with the guys from the Fifty/50 and Roots Pizza for something that’s part diner, part bakery, part ice cream shop, part coffee bar, part laboratory run by anarchist bakers. The walls are black and hot pink; the chairs the color of bumper cars. In short, it’s where Willy Wonka would brunch with those nice boys from A Clockwork Orange.
You’ll come when it’s tragically late (they’ll be open 24 hours on weekends) and you’ll need a warm, fried-to-order doughnut before something seriously bad happens. Order The Death of John Waters: The Divine Doughnut—maple-whiskey-soaked doughnut with a candied bacon crust—then say a tiny prayer to whatever whiskey-doughnut god you worship.
Suitably calm, you’ll navigate between fried green tomato benedicts, chocolate brioche french toast, bratwurst skillets and salted caramel waffles.
Waffles being the new doughnuts.
