How I Learned to Love Dunkin' Donuts (And Why it Matters)

Plus! NYC groundhog forecast!! Reader coffee poll!!!

Hello everyone,

Welcome to Issue #105 of CAFÉ ANNE!

So what’s the weather forecast? While the rest of the nation relies on Punxsutawney Phil, here in NYC we’ve got “Staten Island Chuck,” who lives at the Staten Island Zoo. I am happy to report that Chuck predicted an early spring last week, although we never got an actual winter this year, so what’s the point?

Last week’s Groundhog Day also marked the ten-year anniversary of the incident in which former Mayor Bill de Blasio dropped a previous incarnation of Chuck in front of a group of shocked school children. The animal died. This was following a 2009 incident in which the groundhog bit former Mayor Michael Bloomberg. Current Mayor Eric Adams has so far declined to attend the zoo’s annual Groundhog Day ceremony.

In other news, readers seemed pleased with the debut, in last week’s issue, of “Ask Dan the Librarian.” One reader, Daniel in Boston, had a burning question for Dan the Librarian that was unrelated to libraries.

Referring to my recent account of adopting a personal uniform, he wrote, “I'm wondering if we should 'cross the streams' and inquire about Dan the Librarian's wardrobe?!”

Dan the Librarian responds: “Librarian Dan's wardrobe is a white, straight male's wardrobe. Button-down collared shirts, dockers or slacks, jeans on Fridays (the only day I can dress like a farmer at work), and the occasional dressier shirt and dress pants on days when I have big important meetings with big important people.”

Now I am wondering: who are these “big important people” of the library world? The dons of the five library mob families? The descendants of Melvil Dewey?

In other news, huge last-remaining-99-cent-pizza-stand shoutouts to new paid subscribers Ruth Ann H., Allison R., S.L. Shaver and Alexis T. That’s enough $$$ for 202 slices!

And a special thanks to Asta in British Columbia who sent $20 bill in the mail. “Someone left me this US 20 [as a tip] and of course I thought of you,” she wrote on the accompanying card.

What a fine example! Canadian readers—feel free to send your U.S. currency! I also accept Canadian currency from U.S. readers. In fact, I welcome any currency, in any denomination, from any country. My addy is 100 Remsen Street Apt. 6D, Brooklyn NY 11201.

I am very excited for this week’s issue, of course. I went deep on Dunkin’ Donuts in an effort to explore a burning question: can I convince myself to love everything? And, of course, you’ll want participate in the coffee poll at the end, because nothing is more important than coffee. Please enjoy.

Regards!

Anne

DEPT. OF PERSONAL EXPERIMENTATION

How I Learned to Love Dunkin’ Donuts (And Why it Matters)

Last week, I finally did the math and confirmed something I've suspected for years: in NYC, Dunkin' Donut's coffee costs more than Starbuck's.

Not on a per-drink basis, of course. But Dunkin's cups are smaller. Comparing two shops on the same block in my neighborhood, Brooklyn Heights, I found Dunkin's hot coffee costs 29¢ an ounce compared to 27¢ an ounce at Starbucks.

Was this a location anomaly? No, I found an even bigger price gap in Midtown Manhattan: 34¢ an ounce at Dunkin’ versus 29¢ at Starbucks.

This was the last straw! For years, the one argument in Dunkin's favor, to my mind, was that it provided a cheaper alternative to folks who can’t afford to hook up with the green mermaid. But even that wasn't true.

I texted my findings to my little brother, Philly, who shares my DD distain. His immediate response: "Dunkin' is the most disgusting company."

I considered everything I dislike about Dunkin'. It takes two of life's greatest pleasures—coffee and donuts—and renders them unfit for human consumption. It sports the world's most annoying logo. The crew members often look as if they've lost the will to live. And now this! Black donuts danced before my eyes and I collapsed in a fit of rage.

But when I came to the next morning, I had a strange insight: my anti-Dunkin' stance hurt no one but me. In fact, there have been several instances in recent years in which, faced with the choice of Dunkin' coffee or nothin', I opted for nothin'. And this was extremely painful, considering how addicted I am to coffee.

Wouldn't life be easier if I could learn to love Dunkin'? After all, it’s by far the biggest chain in NYC, with 623 locations compared to just 332 Starbucks stores. It's not like I could avoid it.

And consider the possibilities! If I could convince myself to love Dunkin', I could probably learn to love and enjoy anything and everything—including all my pet peeves which currently include almond milk, cats, Shakespeare, the color purple, people who make you take off your shoes to enter their home, coconut flakes and Krista Tippett. Maybe I could even learn to love poetry! And then nothing would bother me ever again.

But I'd start with the donut chain.

Mulling my mission, I recalled something strange. I used to hate Starbucks, and now I love Starbucks. And there's only one reason: my little sister. I'll never forget the day, 15 years ago, when we spotted the chain's green logo at the airport. She erupted with such delight, I thought she'd lost her mind. But you know what? I love my sister so much that the fact that Starbucks made her so happy made me love Starbucks too.

Could I harness that power to effect a similar change in my feelings for Dunkin’?

That morning, I posted a little query on both Facebook and Notes. "I know we are all supposed to be too cool/socially conscious/discerning to patronize coffee chains in general,” I wrote. “But is there anyone here who loves Dunkin', and even prefers it to Starbucks? Please state your best case for Dunkin' Donuts!"

Zowie, did I get an earful! More than 70 responses!

Not surprisingly, many just love the coffee, describing it as "smooth" or "mellow." These folks were often quick to add that they prefer a basic coffee.

"Folgers instant? Yes, please," wrote Dunkin’ supporter Brian R. "Gas station coffee? Yes, please. A big jug of coffee prepared by little old church ladies? YES… PLEASE!"

But I was surprised to learn that many love the chain's food. Folks posted shoutouts for the grilled cheese sandwich, the egg bites, and yes, even the donuts.

Nostalgia was another factor, particularly among older folks who patronized Dunkin' well before Starbucks came along. Others praised the chain's comforts.

"When I was an anxious, sheltered new adult from the suburbs of Virginia who moved to Harlem and was overwhelmed by the everything-everywhere-all-at-once-ness of NY, the Dunkin’ on Frederick Douglass Boulevard was like a beacon of familiarity," wrote Taylor B. "It was my life raft of sugary, brightly-branded comfort.”

I also learned that throughout New England, but especially in Boston, where it was founded, Dunkin'—which has more than 12,900 locations around the globe—is still regarded as a beloved hometown favorite holding its own against that snobby upstart rival from Seattle. "Bucks sucks," wrote Joe B. "Dunks is the wicked pissa."

My local Dunkin’. They sometimes run out of donuts!

I was already feeling a warmer toward Dunkin. If it made so many people so happy, was it really so bad?

The next step: get to know Dunkin’ better. I usually like people more once I understand where they are coming from and what makes them tick. Perhaps this could work with a fast-food chain.

Dunkin', it turns out, has a colorful back story. Founder Bill Rosenberg, the son of German-Jewish immigrants, had to drop out of school in the eighth grade to help support his family.

After a stint at Bethlehem Steel, he opened the wonderfully-named "Industrial Luncheon Services," delivering meals by cart to Boston factory workers. Coffee and donuts were the big sellers. In 1948, he opened a coffee and donut shop, "Open Kettle," renaming it Dunkin' Donuts two years later.

The rest of the story is not so charming. The company went public in 1968, went private in 1990, and merged with Baskin-Robbins. It sold again, in 2005, to a private equity consortium. In 2020, following a big rebrand which included dropping "Donut" from its name, Dunkin' was acquired by Inspire Brands, a global private equity-backed restaurant company, for $11.3 billion.

Inspire Brands, in case you’re curious, operates 32,000 restaurants worldwide including the Arby's, Baskin-Robbins, Buffalo Wild Wings, Jimmy John's and Sonic chains. Annual sales top $31 billion. Mission statement: "To ignite and nourish flavorful experiences."

Not super lovable! But here's the thing. Perusing Dunkin's corporate site, I was reminded that while Starbucks owns its 38,000 locations, Dunkin stores are franchises—typically family-owned operations.

In fact, if you're interested, you, too, could "Get Franchisin'" by "Investin'" as little as $500,000 to open a Dunkin’ of your own!

Here in NYC, many Dunkins are owned by folks from Southeast Asia, who typically employ friends and family members. The crew members, as they are called, often enjoy more discretion than your typical Starbucks barista.

"I love my D&D because every cup is infused with Bangladeshi hospitality," said my friend Tom, an advertising executive who goes to Dunkin' every day. "I’ve developed my loyalty because my local D&D is teamed with super nice people—'Shami,' 'Rupali,' 'Manager.' They know I drink a cold brew black—and usually they serve me a medium size for the price of a small, a free banana, and they kick in a complimentary old-fashioned donut—they know it’s my fav."

Studying Dunkin's website and app, I also grew to admire the chain's clever branding.

The rewards program: "A New Way to Run"

The app: "It's Go Time"

The gift card pitch: "You got the go. We got the keep going. Send a friend a boost on you!"

Recruiting slogan: "Come run with us!"

Translation: Dunkin' is for hustlers and its locations are drug stores, delivering a quick caffeine and sugar fix to folks who can't afford a moment's rest.

"Most of the early crowd is not the half-caf, oat milk-on-the-side, pour-over, latte-sippin’ coffee demographic," wrote my friend Will S. in Brooklyn, in response to my Facebook query. "It's a glimpse into the amazing variety of people who populate the early morning workforce here, from construction workers to ER nurses getting off overnights. Its essential utility makes it easier to appreciate that the brew gets the job done. This is the rare chain that lives up to its slogan. Maybe America doesn’t run on Dunkin’, but working-class New York sure as hell does."

The CAFÉ ANNE taste test!

I was now feeling downright pro-Dunkin', but what about the coffee itself? Was it really that bad?

That afternoon, my little brother Phillly came over to help me conduct a little blind taste test. Boy, was I shocked by the findings!

To set it up, I brought home a coffee from the nearest Starbucks and Dunkin’ locations. My brother poured them into two china cups that were identical except one features a hedgehog, the other an owl.

I first sampled from the Owl cup, and wrinkled my nose.

"It doesn't have a distinct taste,” I said. “It's watery, with a hint of nothing. This is stupid!"

"That's sad," said Little Brother.

I took another sip. "Watery and a little toasty," I concluded. "It tastes like burnt water."

"Oh man, that's harsh!" said Little Brother. "Try the other one!"

I took a sip from the hedgehog cup and I immediately started yelling: "Oh my God this is so f—ing BAD!!!"

"Hahaha!" said Little Brother.

I took another sip. "So BAD!" So F—ING bad! It's DISGUSTING!"

Little Brother gleefully revealed that the first sample—the watery burnt coffee in the Owl cup—was my beloved Starbucks.

"Let me try the Starbucks again," I said, and took another sip. Now it tasted a lot better. That's branding for you!

Knowing that the hedgehog coffee was from Dunkin’, however, didn’t help at all. Now what?

I knew just who to call. Jonathan White is the executive vice president of White Coffee, a family-owned coffee roaster in Queens, founded in 1939. (Tagline: "We have a Latte of Experience”.)

His company supplies coffee beans to more than 500 restaurants, bodegas, diners and hotels in the NYC area. Among its most popular options is its "Donut Shop" blend, designed to mimic the taste of Dunkin' coffee.

"There's a certain taste profile that the Dunkin' customers like and honestly, is the benchmark for delis and bagel shops," said Mr. White, when I got him on the phone. "It's very consistent and deliberately designed as a mild cup of coffee, but flavorful. I would say it's a lighter roast compared to many coffees in the marketplace."

So that explained it! I'm a die-hard dark roast fan—my at-home staple, in fact, is Café Bustelo. A lighter roast just tastes sour to me. In fact, I've long avoided fancy chains like Stumptown that are known for a brighter, high-acid flavor. Dunkin' is the poor man's Stumptown. If you don't like a light roast, you're out of luck.

Or so it seemed.

The Carroll Gardens Dunkin’ with a rare garden patio.

Thursday morning, it was time to face the beast. I would go to an actual Dunkin' location, order a coffee, sit down and try to love it.

To give Dunkin' a fair chance, I picked the nicest location I knew—a spot in Carroll Gardens. Unlike many in Dunkins in the city, it's larger than a restroom and has room for several tables. It even has a little garden patio to one side, which in NYC is like beachfront property.

Inside, it was peaceful, glowing with orange and pink pendant lamps. The tables were just slightly coffee-spattered. Posters explained the difference between a latte, a cappuccino and an espresso. The two crew members, Southeast Asian ladies wearing glitter-spangled headscarves, were smiling and friendly.

While it looked like a fine place to spend the morning, I was still dreading the coffee. And that's when I saw it, on the menu board:

"Now Brewin' … Dunkin' Midnight Dark Roast. Rich Intensely Dark Chocolately Notes."

What? Dunkin' has a dark roast? WHAT?

I raced to the counter and ordered a small Midnight roast. The crewster nodded approvingly.

"I like the dark roast," she said. "I drink it every morning. I like it too much!"

I carried my cup to the nearest table, peeled off the lid and took a sip.

Whoa! Now this was good coffee. "I'm so happy!" I said aloud, to no one in particular.

I was so excited I returned to chat with the counter lady. Dunkin' introduced a dark roast several years ago, she revealed. It recently changed the name to "Midnight."

Wow, I’d never considered that there might be another option at Dunkin’. I'd been needlessly suffering for years!

To celebrate, I gulped the whole cup and got so caffeinated I decided it was a great time to start interviewing strangers. I asked a man waiting for his order why he goes to Dunkin’.

Michael, who had a thick NYC accent and said he lives in Staten Island, said he goes to Dunkin' every morning because it's convenient, and buys coffee for his coworkers.

"I usually drink the decaf coffee," he continued. "But on weekends, it's the Cappuccino Blast with whipped cream and cinnamon on top. I get the small one, okay? And to accompany that I'll get the bacon, egg and cheese on a toasted croissant. That's the killer combo for me!"

"Oh my God," I said. "How do you feel after you eat that?"

"Like I did somethin' wrong! Like I should be punished!" said Michael. 

"How about Starbucks?" I asked.

“I have had Starbucks in the past,” said Micheal. “It's too complicated, you know what I mean? Why can't you just say small, medium and large? Why you gotta be "venti" and "grande" and etc? It's too many choices.”

He went to the counter to fetch his order—a frozen coffee with whipped cream and caramel on top.

"You wanna sip?" said Michael. "Be bad with me, come on!"

I laughed and gave it a try.

"Wow, it's delicious!" I said.

"I wouldn't recommend driving after having this!" said Michael.

Okay, now I get it. Bring on the orange and pink! I can love Dunkin'. And Starbucks. And the local indy café. Best of all, I believe I’ve proven my ability to enjoy just about anything, if I set my mind to it.

But do I want to?

For better or worse, I identify myself, in part, with my taste—my likes and dislikes. If loved everything, it'd be tantamount to having no preferences. And if I had no preferences, who would I be? I'd be the hole in the donut, as they say.

But maybe I could learn to love that!

Okay, now it’s your turn! I’m curious to know where CAFÉ ANNE readers get their coffee. Vote early and often, and don’t forget to explain yourself in the comments!

CAFÉ ANNE is a free weekly newsletter created by Brooklyn journalist Anne Kadet. Subscribe to get the latest issue every Monday!