The Fried Dough Ho

There is no one I know who doesn’t get a little thrill about roadside architecture (also known as roadside attractions). You know – those buildings of historical eateries, giant structures that look like something, or some odd structure so out of the ordinary to make one stop and take a second look. It seems giant doughnuts on top of buildings were a big thing to construct in the 1940s and because there are a few still in existence within the Ho’s grasp, logic dictates that a visit must be in order.

Perhaps it is the sense of nostalgia at seeing such a building. Driving down the crowded urban street, the pale arch beckons and brings with it the promise of sweet goodness. A memory. A sense of home.

How desperately sad to have those memories and hopes dashed by a travesty which should never have occurred. Not able to taste their entire œuvre, I used my benchmark taste test, the apple fritter. I know from a single bite that if an apple fritter is good, than every other doughnut being prepared and sold will be good.

With great excitement my friend approached the building; drive-up, no less! Pulling up to the window, I stated my request and the white paper bag was handed back. Anticipating – nay! hoping – greatness, I pulled the fritter and placed it on the dashboard for the photograph. It almost flopped over in limp abandon. I held in my hand the most horrific example of a fritter ever experienced. Oily and thin, this 7″ yellow patty of despair lacked the grace and dark unctuous crunch seen in truly great fritters. Mangy and squalid, I regret the single bite I took for I knew, ripping a small morsel for the review, that I was about to regret what I was putting in my mouth.

I am truly astonished at how BAD a commercial doughnut could be. An apple fritter should depict miniature peaks and valleys of dark brown, carefully glazed, apple-studded dough. It should produce a palpable crunch when your teeth penetrate the hardened sugar. In Donut King’s fritter, there was so much oily texture, a toothless gnome would not have bothered using this pathetic patty for pig food.

15032 South Western Ave
Gardena, CA 90249
(310) 515-1319

Bob’s Donut and Pastry Shop is one of those establishments that is a stalwart landmark in San Francisco. It the place that my darling Lisa acquired my giant Birthday Doughnut. Not only do that have giant doughnuts as novelties, Bob’s provides the best quality, hand-made, classically-prepared doughnuts in the city. These are not gourmet doughnuts with unusual flavors like Voodoo or Gourdoughs. You won’t find anything with bacon or childrens cereal as a topping.

The interior is incredibly old fashioned; just a plain counter with a handful of two-seater chairs lining the wall. There is an old sign on the back wall worth looking at which reads “Cheaper by the Dozen – Plain, Powered, Maple, Glazed, Raised, Crullers, Crunch, Brownies. Take Home a Dozen. 2 for 15¢” I would have thought earlier, but they have been in existence since the 1960s. And the bulk of their business is not the morning crowd, but the late-night club-hoppers.

This is a stalwart favorite for a reason. The quality of their doughnuts is exceptional. Slightly misshapen indicates they are hand formed. The cake offerings are dense and rich with a moist crumb. The crullers are light and eggy and ethereally enticing. And then there is the apple fritter. Outside of Randy’s Doughnuts in Los Angeles, this is the best apple fritter I have experienced. It is a tad thicker than I prefer, but it has all the requisite dark crunchy bites that make a fritter fabulous.

Like Mrs Johnsons in Austin, if you go late at night, you can get these doughnuts fresh and warm. Many doughnut shops are preparing doughnuts throughout the evening for sale in the morning, but there are few establishments that enable you to acquire these warm, decadent morsels as they are being made. Kudos for Bob’s for staying open, for longevity, and for excellence.

While in a completely different league than the doughnut offerings at Gourdoughs, Ken’s Donuts lies in the heart of the University district of Austin and runs is your more traditional doughnut shop. When asking around for fried dough suggestions in Austin, many recommended Ken’s for a variety of reasons; this is your basic, good and honest doughnut shop. Open 24 hours, here at Ken’s you find the classic rounds of glazed and raised, cake and sprinkled. And they also have samosas.

Walking up to Ken’s, I was immediately thrilled when I spied a comforting figure as part of their signage — a Ganesha head painted as part of the masthead, with the divine elephant’s trunk joyously clutching a sprinkled doughnut. I took this as a good omen as the Hindu elephant god is known as the Remover of Obstacles and Bestower of Boons. Walking inside the shop, there is the immediate aroma of hot oil, warm sugar, and freshly made dough. The man behind the counter — Ken? — was amenable and pleasant and in my slightly befuddled state of what to try, immediately suggested the Sour Cream Cake as a consistent favorite.

But wait – there were also samosas. In San Francisco, I often bemoan the fact that Donut Shops should not mix their sweet offerings with seemingly disparate savory ones. But this was not a fast-food establishment, selling mediocre Chinese food alongside sweet doughnuts. Here, there was a single tray of precision samosas and it was one of the reasons that Ken’s was so well known. Still mostly full from the Gourdoughs experience the night before, I ordered light; a single samosas, a chocolate doughnut hole, and which ever doughnut was the most popular as recommended by the guy behind the counter, the Sour Cream Cake.

I must admit that the samosa shocked me in its simplicity and goodness. Filled with potatoes and peas, this was one of the best prepared samosas I had experienced. Thin, flaky dough was folded over the spicy filling giving layer upon layer of encasement to the center. I have had so many samosas that were made with a thicker, heavier dough which when fried bubbles and becomes chewy. Here, it is though they are use brik dough or a won-ton wrapper to create multiple thin layers to encase the spicy interior. My hostess, Jane, said they reminded her of the best Cornish pasties and I got that immediately — wholesome and rich without being greasy or chewy, these crisp and tender triangles were a steal at $1.00 each.

Very much to my surprise, the Sour Cream Cake doughnut was equally up the challenge. When it comes to these corner doughnut stores, I have become blasé in my expectations that a decent doughnut is the same almost everywhere and that a poorly-prepared doughnut is a travesty. While this was quite a decent doughnut, it was a bit more than that; very fresh and with a tight crumb, the richness of the sour cream balanced well the perfect amount of glaze which provided that correct amount of “tooth” to the piece. It is that discernible amount of crunch which the glazing has to provide countered against the moist and tender cake. Too much glaze and one is left with shards of sugar, falling off the doughnut. A dry cake and all one tastes is glaze. Here, it was all brought together in a flawless combination. All-in-all, an extremely satisfying fried dough experience.

Most cities boast a handful of all-night establishments. Usually they are relegated to Dennys or diners of similar ilk. And then there are doughnut shops. In San Francisco, the number of places one can go and hang-out in the middle of the night is few and far between — much fewer than other cities like New York or Los Angeles — but thank goodness there are few 24-hour doughnut establishments.

Allstar Donuts on the Chestnut Avenue of the Marina district is such a store. I was walking home last night from a concert at the Palace of Fine Arts. Most of the restaurants were close to shutting down and even on a Thursday, there was quite a crowd outside most of the bars; 20-something hotties still looking for a late-night hook-up. Allstar is located on a corner and still bedecks a circa-1950s sign with neon that sometimes works but mostly does not. Even when all of the other surrounding businesses are closed and dark, a bright light shines out from the Allstar storefront. Late in the evening, the racks are full of every variety; glazed and raised, cake and sprinkled, holes and sugared.

It is an extensive variety and this late in the evening, it is an easy bet that a majority of the offerings are warm from the oven. I’ve eaten Allstar Donuts a number of times. They are perfectly adequate — nay, even slightly better than so for providing a wide variety and always being available. There are no gourmet doughnuts here; no organic, vegan, dragonfruit or kumquat flavors. The sign is circa 1950 and so is the feeling one gets on the classic black-and-white checkered floor. This is nostalgia at its best. My personal favorites tend toward the cakes at Allstar, chocolate with frosting and cinnamon crumb. They are dense and rich and all so uniform in their soldier-like presentation.

Inasmuch, I would like to introduce you to Michael. Taking my photographs at Allstar around 10:30 at night, Michael and his friend walked in and with much determination, I heard Michael call out, “one chocolate doughnut, please.” I turned to see an elegantly lanky gentleman pull his single doughnut out of the bag and chomp into right there. I asked if I could take his picture. There was something comforting about the immediacy of the pleasure Michael was experiencing in buying and consuming his doughnut with such fervor. Michael’s friend was saving his doughnut for later and this was about the shared joy of watching Michael and sharing a moment among friends over a doughnut.

Here’s to you, Michael. And here’s to all the Allstar Donuts that exist around the country, offering up their sweet bites of comfort at all hours of the day and night.