She grew up in a large carnival family. Now she has a shop in SF.

Growing up in North America's largest carnival family, Trish Conklin has worked a lot of odd jobs. Ticket taker for the carnival rides? She's done it. Weight tester on a roller coaster ? Yep. ("They didn't use sandbags, they used family members," she said.) But it wasn't until she started selling carnival food that Conklin found her calling.

Conklin's grandfather was Patty Conklin, the famed founder of Canada-based traveling carnival Conklin Shows and the subject of the recent book "Carnie King: The Story of Patty Conklin and Conklin Shows." The company doesn't exist anymore (her family sold it to a large conglomerate years ago), but Conklin keeps that carnival spirit alive at her Pier 39 mini doughnut stand.

Conklin first opened Trish's Mini Donuts on the pier in 1994. Before meeting her on a recent Friday morning, I'd been told she was a character. But she wasn't what I expected. She was dressed impeccably, but not in the zany way you might expect from a former carnie — rather, in a nearly all-black outfit with wide-leg trousers so cool I couldn't help but compliment her on them. And where I thought she might be brash, she was humble, telling me she doesn't really like talking about herself too much.

If I had been raised in a traveling carnival, I would never shut up about it. Conklin kept her recap of the experience succinct.

"It was chaos and fun and boring," she said. "It was everything."

Trish spent her childhood moving around nine months a year, attending carnival school, and even living under a roller coaster for five weeks during the Canadian National Exhibition. She continued to work for the family business as a young adult. When she was 23, she bought a trailer, decked it out, and opened what was then called Conko's Mini Donuts (Conko the Clown was the Conklin Shows mascot) after being inspired by the popularity of the carnival snack at the Calgary Stampede.

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But she didn't break off on her own until her father decided to give the family business to her brother instead of her.

"I called my father and I said, 'I think I better find something else to do,' and he said, 'Yes, Trish, I think you should,'" she said. "And I always wanted to come to California. So I found my way here."

Conklin had visited San Francisco several times before, but knew no one in the city. Pier 39 was looking for new tenants post-1989 earthquake, plus she had an in from a friend who sold bumper cars and Ferris wheels to them — so in 1994, the SF tourist destination became the home of Trish's Mini Donuts.

"It was the scariest and riskiest and nerviest thing I've ever done, but it was the best thing I've ever done," Conklin said.

Trish's Mini Donuts was not an overnight success. On her first day in business, Conklin only made about $35. "I was like, 'Oh my god, did I make the worst decision of my entire life?'" she said. She started selling the mini doughnuts on a stick because people didn't understand how small they were (only about 2 inches in diameter) and didn't want to buy a whole bag of them.

It took two years for the mini doughnuts to catch on, but Conklin estimates now that over her 30 years, she's sold more than 30 million mini doughnuts. These days, you can buy the hot, fresh doughnuts by the bag, bucket or even bathtub. That's right: For $85, you can get a toy bathtub filled with 120 doughnuts, which Conklin sources from a doll store. Inside the shop, you'll also find a cheeky poster of Conklin herself posing in a bathtub filled with mini doughnuts.

Today, no one bats an eye at the idea of housing a bag of mini doughnuts — speaking from personal experience, my bag of six disappeared in just a few minutes. They're also great for sharing.

"Most people when they buy bags, they say, 'I'll never eat all these,' and normally they do," Conklin said.

The red-and-white, checker-tiled dooughnut stand is tiny, so Trish's Mini Donuts only offers two options: plain and cinnamon sugar. A machine mixes the batter and drops it into the hopper, which then feeds the doughnuts into the fryer. Once the doughnuts pop out the other end, an employee places the warm, fluffy orbs into a bag or bucket, then dusts them with cinnamon sugar as required. And because nothing pairs better with doughnuts than coffee, they serve that, too.

For those craving more variety, Conklin also sells dipped mini doughnuts at her chocolate store next door, Trish's Chocolate. There, you'll find an entire case of doughnut flavors, from mint chocolate to cookies and cream and butterscotch. But I recommend sticking to the basics — nothing beats a still-warm cinnamon sugar doughnut.

Being on Pier 39, you might expect the majority of Conklin's customers to be tourists. But she says that's not the case. "We do have a lot of locals, which is really rewarding," she said. She was right — among the fanny pack-sporting tourists, I also noticed a construction worker in an orange vest ordering at the walk-up window.

In September, Trish's Mini Donuts celebrated its 30-year anniversary, a milestone Conklin called "shocking."

"It's scary when I hear someone say, 'I went there when I was a kid!'" she said. "But it's nice to think that you've done a good job for 30 years."

She's seen people grow up and bring their kids back for mini doughnuts, and one Australian fan even tattooed the Trish's Mini Donuts logo on her thigh. Looking to the future, Conklin is hoping for another 30 years.

Her dream, though, is to eventually sell the business to someone who would franchise it and expand Trish's across the country. So far, her expansion has been limited to a second location at Universal CityWalk in Hollywood that she opened about 15 years ago, as well as a downtown SF spot that closed (she learned her lesson about location — office workers are always "on a diet or on a budget," she said).

For now, though, she's content.

"I'm really happy I'm not in the trucking business anymore," Conklin said, recalling her carnival days. "... When I got here, life got a lot simpler."

Trish's Mini Donuts , Pier 39, San Francisco. Open daily, 10 a.m.-9 p.m.