Bistro Morgan is a success story from a guy young enough to make anyone over 30 wonder what the hell they’ve done with their life. The backstory can be found both in the food press and the business pages.

To summarise, young Morgan Hipworth found his passion for cooking through watching MasterChef as a primary school child, quickly moving from experimenting on his family (the original “Bistro Morgan” was his home dining room) to supplying cafes with his doughnuts.

History doesn’t relate whether his million-plus social media followers came before or after he opened his first bricks and mortar shop in Windsor.

Now barely into his 20s, he’s opened his second shop on Brunswick St, another welcome green shoot (along with the likes of nearby Pidapipo Laboratorio) for a strip badly battered by the pandemic.

Bistro Morgan mark two isn’t the fully-fledged bakehouse the original has morphed into. The single shopfront has bench seating for around a dozen people, but it isn’t a place to linger for very long, although there is the nice touch of self-serve sparkling water on tap.

Apart from anything, you’re likely to be trampled by a restive crowd trying to get a glimpse of the glass counter, a display of pure temptation (“No offence, but I wish I’d never come here,” sighs one woman) for anyone with a sweet-tooth.

Quirky names are a Bistro Morgan trademark. The Cookie Monster doughnut is the most eye-catching: made of brioche with cake batter innards, it’s topped with couverture white chocolate, halved Oreos and a rainbow of sprinkles. Sweet to the power of 10? You betcha.

The creme brulee doughnut is the Sophia Loren of the pack – vanilla bean custard innards and a toffee glaze. It’s delicious but it will make your teeth hurt.

The Naughty Tella (a classic icing sugar-dusted number with a Nutella centre) seems positively restrained in comparison.

It might be heresy to say the cookies are better than the doughnuts but the chocolate chip number, a layer of crisp giving way to soft insides, had me at first bite.

The coffee is by Inglewood (it’s very milky – if you’re like me and always dithering whether to ask for a double shot, this is the place to do it). The hot chocolate is rich and thick.

There are toasties for anyone needing a savoury hit. On very thinly sliced sourdough, the super salty Reuben goes minimal on the beef and maximal on the funky cheese ooze.

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But the pink cardboard boxes marching out the door are the real focus here. A mixed dozen is a sure-fire way to win the love of your family/housemates/co-workers.

There’s Morgan merch, too: you can grab a copy of his cookbook-slash-memoir, Made by Morgan, or a baseball cap to declare your allegiance.

Looking at the queues, sensing the air crackle with doughnut FOMO, it’s not difficult to conclude that it’s Morgan Hipworth’s world; we just happen to live in it.

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