It’s taken a few months to mull this one over. Since then, this has happened, the re-opening of the newly expanded, original VooDoo Doughnuts (and whatever those leisurely, sugar-dusted picnic tables are about):
Let’s non-scientifically estimate the above line around 30-45 minutes. It loops around a bit inside, as well.
I’ve joked many times about my desire for a locals only window. I give up.
I try and pretend that vegan doughnuts don’t exist, think about my spontaneous annual Flavourspot visit, and cross my fingers for a crispy waffle sandwich.
I remember Acme, calm down a wee bit, and then I forget those soft rolls exist for another eleven months.
It’s time to come to terms with these memories.
The following tale is true.
I once played tourist and waited in line for 1 hour and 10 minutes at Voodoo Too, and this is my story.
I’m not crazy, my houseguests were doing the tourist thing. It was their last day. We’ve all been there.
The entire visit was heartwarming and surreal – I had friends in town (plus an s.o.) from my hometown (technically one moved to Queens, but still!) of Islip, NY! It was a wild nine day period of polishing off my buried accent.
It’s almost amusing that one friend and I nonchalantly stopped by VooDoo Too for breakfast, waited in line for 5 minutes, received word that said line would last for over an hour, and wandered over to Grendel’s and Sizzle Pie instead. I was already exhausted by 10am, thanks to our last-night-in-town karaoke bonanza the evening prior.
Being tourists (of the friendly omnivore variety) on their final day in Portland, they decided to spend the hours before their red eye back east eating. A lot. I’m talking food carts, totchos, beer, coffee, breakfast pizza, elephant ear and donuts. Being of the food blogger variety, I’ve found myself in similar modes on my travels, so I get. I was naturally up for the photography, though my stomach didn’t catch up until hours later, back home, with my own doughnut.
Back to our big day.
Jess: Um, let’s see how quickly this moves.
Friend: Look at these idiots!
Jess: So, the Voodoo truck [parked outside] is selling doughtnuts by the dozen. No vegan donuts, but you’re not vegan so you don’t care, and they’re pretty much what you’re going to buy and it has NO LINE.
Friend: Do you want to carry around my box all day? Let’s come back later!
We leave the line in desperate need of coffee and sustenance, casting evil eyes at the tourists, mainly couples (who aren’t smiling – what a fun line! what a delayed sugar rush!), slowly carrying out their own pink boxes.
10:41am We notice the following on our way out…
Jess: Well, breakfast pizza is just as cool as a donut and will probably cure my hangover. I know, I know, you’re from New York, but I think you’ll like this.
Fast forward to Friend excitedly recapping the trip on the phone later in the day: “In Portland, they eat breakfast pizza!!!!!!!!”
12:10pm Cart contemplation downtown. Friend is still smiling in photographs.
12:40pm We peruse the Saturday Market. I remind myself that it is, in fact, Sunday.
Friend: Shouldn’t I be eating something? It’s been an entire hour.
Jess: You’re probably right. I’m worried about your blood sugar.
My friend gets acquainted with Oregon’s signature fried dough tried, the elephant ear. Vegan tip: Simply request your ear without butter at this Saturday Market stand – with cinnamon sugar or local marionberry jam – and you’re in the clear. Get ready to spend the remainder of the day walking. Maybe after a nap.
Next up, it was time to bear witness. My houseguests were married at the 24 Hour Church of Elvis walk-up gallery. They didn’t sell me their wedding photos, so I’ll leave them private, but let me show this much wonder:
I did sneak this one:
Eventually, there was one big item left on our Portland to-do list, and it just happened to be more food in big pink boxes. Once again, I suggest the mixed dozens from the VooDoo truck outside. Once again, this takes the magic away.
After roughly waiting roughly 35 minutes on an even-longer line outside, and catching up on the past decade, we made it into Voodoo Too:
We could finally not just smell, but SEE doughnuts:
4:50pm My friend’s new friend. We await our bus back home.
Friend: If anyone in New York complains about these doughnuts, I will hurt them.
Jess: I miss you already.
And then it was me and my doughnut, and my houseguests were on a red eye to JFK.
The good news? As per recent observations and the re-opening of the larger original location, it appears that the line at VooDoo Too has calmed down. A bit.