By Russell Mahakian

THE MANTRA AMONG doughnut shop owners is "Good weather is bad for business." With a long, hot summer at their doorsteps and a total boycott by low-carb militants and health food enthusiasts, Oakland's family-run doughnut shops are in the midst of the slow season and an economic slump.

Doughnut shops in Oakland are as easy to find as the morning sun. They're in neighborhoods where chain stores shy from venturing, and they fill a commercial void, selling everything from medicine to nachos. Unlike Starbucks' seven stores in Oakland, most doughnut shops are independently owned, family-run, and owner-operated seven days a week. And Oakland doughnut merchants offer some of the last places in the Pacific Rim without golden arches where one can nibble a minimal breakfast, read the paper, and people-watch for under $2.

In the early morning hours, proprietors like Sophal Song of Golden Gate Donuts (4201 Telegraph, 510-655-0362) can be found stacking glazed treats atop a gilded altar in her family's shop. "I put donuts up there every day for good luck," says Song, pouring her eighth gallon of coffee for weary patrons.

Golden Gate has bountiful seating, and its doughnuts are top-notch. People from all over the world filter in and out. "Koreans, Chinese, Hispanic people, Cambodians, Greeks, and African people eat our doughnuts," says Song, filling a bag of doughnut holes. Older residents spend hours debating local politics in an assortment of dialects and slang in between smoke breaks. On Sunday, regulars wear their church clothes, coming straight from worship to eat and chat.

Oakland's community is also served by Lee's Donuts (4013 Telegraph, 510-654-2645). Located in a corner strip mall between a beauty shop and a check-cashing store, it sells the usual crullers and cream-filled. The closest convenience store is five blocks away, so as a courtesy to customers, Lee's stocks food such as hot dogs and brought in an ATM machine. "People started asking if we could sell different things because they needed them, so we started selling food and carrying medicine," manager Lawrence Khao says. Clearly it's providing a service to the community: Lee's always seems to be full.

Fifteen blocks north of the MacArthur BART station is Johnny's Donuts (5501 Shattuck, 510-923-0557), run by Johnny Kauv and his family. When Kauv took over the shop in 1997, he started making hot breakfasts, hamburgers, and hot dogs because there were few restaurants in the area and people were buying. "We offer things people want to eat in the neighborhood," Kauv says.

At West Oakland's All-Star Donuts and Burgers (898 W. Grand, 510-452-2626) the "Burgers" sign is missing an r and the s, and many refer to the shop as "Donuts and Burge." It boasts a handful of serviceable booths, and the coffee is always hot. It's run-down, but this is much more than a doughnut shop – it's one of the few public spaces in the neighborhood, a place to rest, and a cafeteria stocking affordable fish burgers and Chinese food.

Grand Lake Donuts (3249 Grand, 510-452-5384) is in a more affluent part of Oakland, down the block from the theater that shares its name. Only two people run this immaculate shop, and owner Sophia Tang feels she has more friends than customers after 16 years of feeding the community. Colonial Donuts (3318 Lakeshore, 510-893-2503) is a huge shop with cookies, soup, and a whole lot of doughnuts. Lakeshore Donuts and Ice Cream (3276 Lakeshore, 510-208-5568) is just three doors down, and people frequent its ice-cream and doughnut counter while perusing one of the shop's many used books for sale.

The coolest doughnut shop in Oakland has to be Quality Donuts (6860 Sunkist, 510-632-3344), a mile up the hill from Eastmont Mall and across the street from a Pentecostal church. With no competing business for a square mile, this little shack has but three small parking places, and it offers coffee, drinks, and sweets to the East Oakland Hills. 'Mama' Hyunh runs the shop with the help of her son and grandson; she greets her customers with a big grin and a loud laugh. "Dark, light, Mexican, Filipino, and Asian people come through my shop," Hyunh says in an accent indicating her Vietnamese and Cantonese heritage. Her infectious laughter and soft, sweet cinnamon doughnuts make the trip up the hill worthwhile.

Doughnut shops are some of the only public spaces left in Oakland neighborhoods. Knock the sugar and fat if you must, but without these humble purveyors, some neighborhoods would have fewer services and spaces for meeting friends and neighbors. While a handful of cafés have surfaced with $3 scones in an attempt to take their place, their sleek West Bay coffee culture doesn't cater to the bulk of Oaklanders. Here we prefer a jelly center to a slick interior. In Oakland, only the very real symmetry of the circular truth will do.