You all know Doug the Baker.
And if you don’t, you should. At least those of you from Chestertown.
But really, all of you should know Doug the Baker, because Doug the Baker is the author of the finest pastry known to my mouth, the legendary Sun Bun.
Behold:
The Sun Bun is like an inside-out croissant, coated with sugar and cinnamon. It is best to get them just out of the oven, when they are soft and warm and the act of eating them is like having a gastronomic spa day. I could go on and on about the Sun Bun, but I won’t because the rest is up to you. If you live in Chestertown, you must eat a Sun Bun now. If you live in California, you must buy a plane ticket now.
But I digress, this post is not about Sun Buns. Not at all.
The other day, I was standing in line at Against the Grain (Doug the Baker’s crib) when I spotted a sign.
My first thought was that an error had been made, an extra T carelessly added. But no, the truth was that Doug the Baker had been tinkering in his laboratory, innovating deliciousness, doing his best to blow my mind.
I had a choice to make: should I stick with the thing I knew would make me happy, or should I go out on a limb in hope of even greater levels of delight? It boiled down to this: did I trust Doug the Baker? Would Doug the Baker lead me astray?
I decided that he never would. I purchased the Stun Bun and headed back home to eat it.
Some of you might be wondering: what IS a Stun Bun? In truth, I do not know. Lindsay Lusby, the woman who sold me the Stun Bun, described it in great detail, but truth be told, I was simply too beside myself to internalize what she was saying at the time. (I am hoping that Lindsay, Doug, or some other person in the know will comment on this post with a full description of the Stun Bun.)
But setting aside for a moment the question of what it is, here is what the Stun Bun looks like.
The Stun Bun roughly resembles the Sun Bun in shape and size, but instead of being coated in sugar and cinnamon, was glazed in a delightful way. The Stun Bun was available with and without pecans.
Some of you might be wondering: what did the Stun Bun TASTE like?
Friends, I wondered the same thing. And so I cut myself a bite. As it neared my mouth, the anticipation was nearly unbearable.
As it entered my mouth, something strange happened. I was temporarily removed from time and space. I was no longer a man. I was reduced to the few square inches of my mouth that were, at that moment, in blissful communion with this strange, new pastry.
I was, in a word, stunned.
And it was good.
Let me admit, I am not a food critic. In fact, I seldom criticize any food, given that I am (in full disclosure) someone who is easily satisfied by anything edible.
But the Stun Bun exists on a higher plane than the other foods one might encounter in the stretch of an average lifetime.
Many of you may be wondering: How does the Stun Bun compare to the Sun Bun?
To answer would be to ask me to choose the favorite among my children. I love them both. I love them both so much. In anticipating future visits to Against the Grain, I imagine that I will alternate between Sun and Stun buns as my mood and appetite dictate. Whichever my choice of the day, I know I will be a happy man indeed.
Well done, Doug the Baker. Here’s to yet another reason that everyone should move to Chestertown.












That bun looks simply delightful.
I’m SOOOOO hungry now.
It is taking all of my resolve to not eat my lunch early.
I don’t know how long I can last.
OH MY. I may come visit you just as a pretense to have a Sun Bun. Or maybe a Stun Bun. Or maybe one of each.
I’m so hungry and I love buns. I shouldn’t have read this before lunch. YUM. Next time we come to Chestertown I am getting one of each. Didn’t we eat lunch somewhere near there one time? I remember that bun. Have I already had one? I’m losing focus here. Must get buns.
But wait! What makes it stun-ning? I was very much anticipating it would be an Extreme Pastry, coated with cayenne…
Ahem, Dude…no disrespect to Doug, cuz his wares look truly delectable, respectable, and imminently ingestible, but we in California have a version of his Sun/Stun Bun and it is called the Morning Bun. We don’t need to pony up for a plane ticket in order to experience this sort of bliss. Google it and ye shall see.
Sorry Clare, but “Morning Bun” doesn’t rhyme.
AH! Why did I ever leave!? It’s bad enough that I no longer have Sun Buns, but to be denied the opportunity of a Stun Bun as well? Our fresh pecans, tangerines, and kumquats can’t even begin to compare.
Matthew,
If you can’t see the poetry in hot warm Buns in the Morning…just sayin…
Though I have to admit, the Stun Bun sounds like it might give the Morning Bun a run for it’s Mun(ny).
Well, Doug may be responsible for it will surely become known as the “C’town 15.” As in the (minimum) 15 pounds that we will all be gaining courtesy of the Sun or now Stun Bun. I missed the roll out (no pun) of the Stun Buns, but now I’m consumed by curiosity. To your California friend: “morning” is so restrictive. In C’town we can eat a Sun Bun any time of day. (Perhaps Stun Buns will be for night…)