Our Story

A short history of flour, fog, and one very stubborn cauldron.

A small, dimly lit bakery storefront at night with a glowing orange window and wisps of fog on the street

How it started

Nobody in town can agree on when Cadonuts opened. The lease says one date. The sign says another. The regulars swear it's been there "as long as they can remember," which, admittedly, isn't saying much after a few of our ciders.

What everyone agrees on is the smell: warm sugar, cinnamon, and something like woodsmoke that drifts out the door the moment the ovens wake up.

A translucent, ghostly baker in an apron dusting flour over a tray of donuts in a warmly lit kitchen

The night shift

We bake almost entirely after dark. Dough proofs slowly under low light, the fryers stay just below a rolling boil, and every glaze is finished by hand while the donut is still warm enough to fog a window.

Some nights the kitchen feels a little more crowded than the staff schedule suggests. We've stopped asking questions. The donuts turn out better for it.

A Few Things We Believe

Small batches

Every tray is fried and glazed by hand, never more than a few dozen at a time.

Seasonal spirits

Flavors shift with the seasons — and, some say, with whatever's wandering the alley that week.

Neighborhood first

We're a corner shop. We know your order before you say it, most of the time.

Frequently Whispered Questions

Is the shop actually haunted?

We wouldn't say haunted. Well-seasoned, maybe. The building is old, the drafts are strong, and the ovens have opinions.

Do you take special orders?

Yes — reach out a few days ahead for dozens, custom glazes, or anything involving a full moon deadline.

Why do you open so late?

The dough likes the quiet. So do we.