Maryland, D.C. and Virginia boast some of the finest food in the nation, despite what some out-of-state skeptics may say.

But here’s a problem: For the most part, our doughnut culture stinks.

Great small doughnut shops exist — and please tell me about more — but often quickly sell out. I send my praises to (and will continue my patronage at) Donut Run in D.C. and Krumpe’s in Hagerstown, in particular.

If you’re looking to quickly grab a dozen at nearly all times of day on your way to the office, a party or whatever gathering, you’re usually stuck with the major chains.

Unless you’re lucky enough to be located near a Shoppers.

Lately, the grocer has faced some bad luck as locations have shuttered. Four Maryland stores closed on Oct. 11 amid vague corporate-speak of “working to optimize our footprint.” And this week, it was announced the Germantown location will close on Nov. 8.

The grocery store, founded in D.C. in 1949, soon after branched out to suburbs in Maryland and Virginia. Other regional chains like Publix, Stew Leonard’s and Wegmans have their diehards, but consider me Shoppers’ strongest soldier.

I was raised in the Virginia suburbs and my family’s preferred grocer for much of my childhood was Shoppers Food Warehouse. I learned to enjoy wandering around the aisles on near-weekly trips with my mother. She was quite permissive in letting me throw whatever highly processed, neon treat I desired into the cart.

But at Shoppers, I really only cared about one thing: the Colossal Donuts.

They’re actually not that much bigger than your average doughnut. They’re branded “Colossal” perhaps to make you think that they are. Or maybe the name refers to the taste. It really doesn’t matter.

A younger Hau fixated on trays of glossy, puffed yeast doughnuts — chocolate with an overflow of rainbow sprinkles for me — alongside other baked goods, like my parents’ preferred apple fritter. These massive hunks of fried dough were a staple of my family’s kitchen counter. A dozen usually lasted us two days.

Of course, this wasn’t sustainable once my childhood metabolism slowed down. The words “healthy” and “moderation” entered my lexicon. The Shoppers branches near my childhood home eventually closed — maybe mercifully, given my annual cholesterol level checks.

But the Colossal Donuts have held a grip on my heart and mind.

The recent closures spurred me to revisit my childhood favorite and see whether these confections still lived up to my sense memory of them.

I entered the Germantown location this week and was transported. The fluorescent lights bouncing off the cream-colored walls gave the sprawling warehouse the same yellow tint I remembered. As the McDonald’s within the same strip mall had gotten a more modern, drab gray coating, Shoppers remained blissfully stuck in time.

And tucked in the back right corner was the doughnut case. Three rows had been picked pretty clean just after noon, but some of my favorites were still there.

Sprinkles covered merely half the chocolate- and vanilla-glazed doughnuts, which I have to imagine was some bakery worker’s mourning equivalent to a flag flown at half-staff.

The apple fritters have shrunk and become less craggy. You can still take or leave the cake doughnuts, which are merely fine in taste and size.

However, the yeast doughnuts were as colossal — and the same strangely hexagonal shape — as ever.

I grabbed half a dozen to share with my Banner colleagues. I needed other voices to tell me whether I was living in a sugar-clouded youthful mirage or whether my adoration was still justified.

The doughnuts have their online fans. A Reddit poster, in a thread about the future loss of the Germantown Shoppers, declared, “I can’t live without these donuts,” accompanied by the sobbing emoji.

I know of at least one hater.

Banner sports reporter Danielle Allentuck, who was raised in Montgomery County, messaged me after I pitched this Colossal love letter, “We used to have them every Friday at summer league swim practice and I would get such a stomachache.”

“I’m actually traumatized by those donuts,” she said.

My other colleagues were instantly impressed by the doughnuts’ look and even more taken by their taste. This was a good sign. I took my chocolate-sprinkled doughnut and observed the thick lacquering of glaze atop the warm blistered golden dough that marked freshness. So far so good.

As for the taste test: The dough was pillowy and balanced the dense layer of not too cloyingly sweet chocolate frosting. A few bites later, it was gone and I confirmed my suspicion: These are still the best widely available doughnuts in the region.

Get them while you can.