12 Oregon Donut Shops That Sell Out Before Most Folks Are Out Of Bed
There’s something magical about a donut shop that runs out before lunchtime. Not because they’re lazy or unprepared, but because their pastries are so ridiculously good that people will set alarms, skip showers, and race across town just to snag one before the trays go empty.
Oregon is packed with these early-morning legends, tiny bakeries where the smell of fresh glaze pulls you out of bed and the fear of missing out keeps you moving.
I’ve learned the hard way that sleeping in means settling for crumbs, so here are twelve shops where the early bird truly gets the best donut.
1. Pip’s Original Doughnuts & Chai
The line snakes down NE Fremont before most coffee shops even unlock their doors.
Pip’s makes every single mini donut to order, which means you watch your breakfast sizzle in hot oil while the chai steeps beside you. When the morning rush hits, those trays empty faster than you can say “one more dozen.”
Hours are deliberately tight, mornings only, and the Instagram feed regularly drops “sold-out” announcements by mid-morning.
I once showed up at 9 a.m. on a Saturday and left empty-handed, vowing never to sleep past sunrise again.
Order the raw honey and sea salt or the candied maple-bacon if you want to understand the hype.
2. Doe Donuts
Vegan doesn’t mean boring at Doe, where inventiveness meets intention. The shop would rather sell out than let day-old rings sit under glass, so batches are deliberately small and fiercely popular.
Weekends bring the earliest crowds, and that passionfruit-curd beauty you saw online will vanish before you finish parallel parking.
Horchata-pudding rings and matcha-glazed squares are the stuff of legend here, each one a tiny edible rebellion against bland plant-based stereotypes. I’ve watched grown adults sprint from their cars when the “last dozen” sign goes up.
Get there early or prepare to pivot to ice cream instead.
3. Delicious Donuts
Old-school vibes meet new-school demand at this SE Grand Avenue spot. The owners flat-out admit they sell out “so often” that opening at 5 a.m. is the only way to keep regulars happy.
By the time most people hit snooze for the second time, half the case is already gone.
Apple fritters here are the size of your face, and the sausage-egg breakfast burritos are a cult side hustle that deserves its own fan club. I grabbed both on a foggy Thursday and felt like I’d cracked some secret Portland code.
Show up early, order big, and thank yourself later when coworkers are stuck with stale grocery-store loops.
4. Mikiko Mochi Donuts
Chewy, gluten-free, dairy-free, and utterly addictive, Mikiko’s mochi rings have rewritten what a donut can be.
The shop celebrates hitting “sold out” on social media like it’s a badge of honor, and fans arrive in waves to chase rotating monthly flavors. Passionfruit-curd and ube are the heavy hitters, disappearing before the Instagram stories even post.
There are three metro locations now – NE Portland (Kerns), Bethany Village, and Beaverton, but neither one can keep up with demand on busy mornings.
Check the monthly menu online, then sprint like your breakfast depends on it, because it does. These aren’t your grandma’s donuts, and that’s exactly the point.
5. Annie’s Donut Shop
Roseway locals guard Annie’s like a state secret. The peanut-butter “butterfly” is the cult item everyone whispers about, a gooey, nutty masterpiece that vanishes from the case before most commuters hit the freeway.
Maple bars and cream-filled classics anchor the early rush, but that butterfly is the real prize.
I’ve seen neighbors elbow past each other, politely but firmly, to claim the last one on a Sunday morning. The vibe is pure old-Portland, no frills, no pretense, just a neighborhood stalwart that knows exactly what it’s doing.
If there’s a butterfly in the case when you walk in, grab it before someone else does.
6. Joe’s Donuts
Firing dough since 1974, Joe’s opens painfully early to catch skiers and commuters heading up the mountain.
By mid-morning on busy days, plenty is already gone, claimed by folks who know that fresh beats fashionably late. Maple bars and marionberry jelly are the move here, simple and perfect every single time.
This is the Mt. Hood gateway stop, the place where you fuel up before the slopes or the trails. I once rolled in at 10 a.m. on a powder day and found exactly three donuts left, all plain cake.
Lesson learned. Set the alarm, skip the snooze, and taste why this shop has survived five decades.
7. The Dough Nut
Bend’s scratch shop literally posts “until SOLD OUT” on the door, a warning and a dare rolled into one.
Show up for the maple-bacon bar or the PB&J, both of which taste like someone actually cares about what they’re making. Late sleepers get slim pickings, maybe a lone old-fashioned if luck is on their side.
The Midtown shop on NE Greenwood is operating; the former Westside (Galveston) location is closed, and nobody holds back inventory for the lazy.
I watched a family of four clean out the last tray of filled donuts one Saturday, and the baker just shrugged and flipped the sign. Early birds win here, every single time.
8. Delish Donuts
This tiny N Hwy 97 spot opens before dawn and routinely runs out, sometimes as early as 8:30 a.m., according to bewildered travelers.
Nut-topped chocolate rings and crumbly old-fashioneds are the stars, each one proof that you don’t need fancy fillings to make people set alarms. When the case is full, it’s a beautiful sight.
I stopped here once on a road trip, thinking 9 a.m. was plenty early, and found the door locked with a handwritten “Sorry, sold out” note taped to the glass.
The couple behind me just laughed and said, “First time, huh.” Now I know better.
9. Sisters Bakery
Beloved for colossal maple bars, buttermilk bars, and fritters that could double as paperweights, Sisters Bakery is notorious for empty shelves if you dawdle.
Doors open at 6 a.m., and locals know that’s the only safe time to guarantee selection. By 8 a.m., the best stuff is gone, claimed by tourists and regulars who’ve learned the hard way.
E Cascade Ave is the address, but really it’s just the bakery everyone talks about when they talk about Sisters.
I once gambled on a 9 a.m. arrival and left with a single plain cake donut, which was fine but not legendary. Go at opening or accept your fate.
10. Dundee’s Donuts
Beach mornings mean lines at Dundee’s, where the shop is known to close once the day’s batch is gone.
Jelly-filled classics and cinnamon-sugar rings taste better with ocean air and an early start, a combination that brings tourists and locals together in sugary harmony. Once the trays are empty, the doors lock, no exceptions.
I visited on a foggy July morning, thinking the coast would be quiet, and found a line snaking out the door by 7:30 a.m. By the time I reached the counter, half the flavors were already sold out.
Grab your dozen, then hit the beach before the crowds arrive.
11. Lincoln City Donut & Coffee Co.
Locals whisper that prime flavors can be wiped out by 8:30 a.m. on busy days, a warning that tourists ignore at their peril.
Aim for opening and hunt the maple bars and old-fashioneds first, the classics that never fail and always disappear. This coastal spot knows its audience, and that audience wakes up early.
I rolled in at 9 a.m. once, fresh off a beach walk, and found exactly four donuts left, all plain glazed. The barista just smiled and said, “You should see it at seven.”
Now I do, and my mornings are infinitely better for it. Early arrival is the only strategy that works here.
12. Puck’s Donuts
Their own banner says it all: 6 a.m. until sold out. Expect classics done right, the raised, glazed, and crumbly old-fashioneds that are the early-bird prize.
Phoenix sits in the Rogue Valley, a little off the beaten path, but folks drive from Medford and Ashland just to snag a dozen before the shop closes for the day.
I stopped here on a valley road trip, thinking small-town meant sleepy, and found a packed parking lot at 7 a.m. The raised glazed was still warm, proof that getting up early is always worth it.
Skip the snooze button and taste why this banner isn’t just marketing.