I have long joked that Asheville should rename itself Carbsville. Beer, doughnuts, and big-ass sandwiches dominate the city’s cuisine. When visitors come from out of town, we ALWAYS take them to Hole Doughnuts. They create beautiful hand-made doughnuts that are imperfect, delicious works of art. Every time I go, I spend a lot of time photographing the whole scene, but until now I’ve resisted compiling an ultimate post on the experience. But when Hole took the No. 2 spot on Yelp’s Top 100 US Donut Shops list for 2023, I realized I had to take the time to put my photos in one place.

Why go?

• Because you’ve have never had a doughnut as strange and as gorgeous as what’s about to hit your face.

• Because you’ve never witnessed humans make hand-made doughnuts.

• Because there is beauty in simplicity.

• Because servers who are actually happy to see you has sadly become quaint in Murca these days.

Doughnut chains such as Dunkin’ and Krispy Kreme give America tons of choices. Hole gives you four doughnut choices, tops. There are always one or two wild cards, like the crazy basil-lime-mezcal doughnut they had when we went two days ago. But you can always get the vanilla glaze or the cinnamon sugar. Those are the standards. I’m partial to the glaze. So’s Denise.

“Life’s hard enough,” they’re basically saying, “so we made it simple.”

Parking’s a pain, but there are always options up and down that stretch of Haywood. Just look, and obey the signs. If you don’t like waiting, place an order online for pickup.

You’ll probably start by waiting in a queue that stretches out the door. Hole occupies a tiny 800-square-foot rustic shack, so people often have to wait outside. During Covid, you weren’t permitted inside. Those were sad days, like not being able to see how Wonka churns his chocolate. Now those days are gone, so consider yourself lucky.

You get inside. You see a board listing the doughnuts. In days past, they were tucked behind glass, or arrayed in all their beauty for your inspection. Don’t touch! Just order.

Tell Laurie that you love her, because I swear she loves you. She’s one of the owners, and is Asheville’s happiest person. Cranky people who otherwise hate the world actually weep like babies and sing Laurie’s praises on reddit. There should be a statue of her on the way into town, holding aloft a giant tray of doughnuts.

Order your doughnuts. Order your coffee. Shush the kids. Enter the Sanctuary of the Holey Dough, watch, and learn. It looks chaotic behind the table, but there’s a sweet logic at work.

On the far left, someone’s cutting the dough into round disks. The way grandma cut biscuits.

Oh—but watch. Next they poke a hole through the center, and stretch it by hand. You’ve never seen this, have you?

If there’s room, the stretched doughnuts are stacked on the table, awaiting their brief dip in freaking hot oil. (If there’s no room, they get popped into the proofing cabinet to rise. I’ll show you that later.)

Splash, into the oil, instantly fried! When one side is crispy, the fry cook flips the doughnut over by hand, literally using a pair of wooden drumsticks.

Out of the fryer, and onto the cooling rack.

The next person reads the orders and gives each doughnut what you, the customer, demands. A quick bath in glaze, a dusting of sugar and cinnamon, cacao nibs, whatever. Kiss, kiss, kiss, every doughnut is dressed for your waiting mouth.

Into the boxes they go. (Oh, see under there? That’s the proofing cabinet, which is just warm enough to make dough rise. Important on cold mornings in fall and winter.)

Customers wait in suspense. People mill around, drink coffee, and watch. Sometimes the crush of the crowd is like Happy Hour at a bar with no seats.

Your order arrives. Maybe you eat there, maybe you scurry away to stuff your face in the privacy of your Escalade. Whatever.

This is what awaits you when you open the box. Bizarrely rustic ‘nuts.

They are sweet and crispy on the outside…

Hot and fluffy on the inside.

Thank you for coming. Now—do you feel special? Sure, you do. That’s the sugar talking, but do come again. They’re here five days a week, closed Mondays and Tuesdays, but otherwise open 8 a.m. to 1 p.m., until they run out of sugar and love.

They’re located at 168 Haywood Street, Asheville. Their website’s pretty; you should look.

Tell your friends.

All photos by me! Copyright © 2023 Joseph D’Agnese.