At Bob's Donut & Pastry Shop, Bob and his staff fill the air with the intoxicating aroma of fried bread, sugar, maple, and chocolate. The clouds of flavor seem to hang there, constantly reaching out for passersby. It's no surprise, since the team churns out an average of 1,000 donuts every day—sometimes twice that. Inside the window-front showcase, some 40–50 varieties of the decadent breakfast dessert strut their colors and shapes, testifying to the hard work and creativity of the bakers. The raised, old-fashioned, cake, buttermilk, and French styles originate from recipes penned in the 1950s, but Bob’s team isn’t afraid to tweak them as ingredients change and the FDA boosts the recommended daily dose of fritter. Yet even with change, Bob's decades-spanning deliciousness remains, attracting accolades such as a spot on _Travel + Leisure_’s list of America's Best Donuts and the designation of a "stalwart San Francisco landmark" by the aficionados at Fried Dough Ho.

Inside the long, narrow shop, two-seater tables flank a wall, and a low counter with backless stools looks into the kitchen where the donut magic happens. More than half a century of charm beams from old signs touting the economical "Cheaper by the Dozen" and the existential "Where Did the Donut Hole Disappear To?" Bob's never closes either, staying open as the day's customers and atmosphere transform from "kids and a neighborhood hangout," Bob says, "to an after-club, after-bar type of place." And while its food and hours are certainly draws, so too are its culinary challenges. Anyone who can wolf down a Bob's giant donut—a 10-inch circle that equals roughly six standard donuts—in less than three minutes wins a T-shirt and the $7 price of the donut back.