The Fried Dough Ho

This is sort of a Part II report of Michael Chiarello’s restaurant Bottega in Yountville. Part I was from the same meal, but was a Savory Offering of Fried Dough. It was actually sort of funny. My darling hosts and I had finished our meal over a serving of assorted biscotti when we saw an adjacent table being served a sweet version of Fried Dough and as I had been showing them my newly-created website, Ron called out to the waiter and ordered the additional dessert. Wow – I was really touched. I mean, we had just finished dinner AND a pretty decent dessert, but Ron insisted; The Fried Dough Ho needed a complete report!

Here, we are eating a classic dessert presentation, inch-long warm fried dough rolled in granulated sugar and served with two sauces, a lemon curd and a raspberry jam. How much better can it get for a die-hard Fried Dough Ho to have two different servings in one spectacular meal? My only complaint about the doughnuts was the predominant use of a large-granule sugar which hardened to a point of flaking off in large sheets when the doughnut was bit; that meant there was a significant amount of grease still on the doughnuts when rolled in the sugar. One had to bite through large sections of sugar. This could have been rectified by rolling the freshly-dried balls in less sugar or possibly sugar that is more refined. Don’t get me wrong, they tasted great, but the sugar “sheets” did not adhere to the doughnuts when bit into but chunked off in the mouth.

The accompanying sauces were quite lovely and well-made as well. I am curious why two sauces would be offered but one in more quantity than the other? I suppose the obvious answer is that they are supposed to go with the curd more with the raspberry being an after garnish, but being a raspberry fan, I actually preferred that sauce over the curd, but the combination of the two was really exquisite. What a fabulous evening it was, having two Fried Doughs in one meal!

I admit it — I get pretty psyched when I see savory versions of fried dough. Well, truth be told, I’ve only written about one version and so far, I experienced a total of three that I can remember. It was an unexpected surprise when some darling friends took me to dinner at Michael Chiarello’s Bottega in the Napa Valley (Yountville, to be exact) and I was directed towards a fried dough appetizer. I didn’t even recognize it as such when I read it on the menu: Organic Prosciutto “house cured”, pasta fritta, Lambrusco

“Fritta” means fried and it slipped by me until Ron described it. Well of course I had to have it… Served on a large platter were four massive fritters; pasta dough studded with rosemary, deep fried, and then rolled in Parmesan cheese. These warm globules of goodness were served alongside paper-thin slices of prosciutto which had been drizzled with olive oil and topped with a few chunks of mango.

What threw me was the bowl of Lambrusco. When the platter arrived, I hadn’t remembered everything that was written and I thought the bowl was some form of dipping sauce. Ron was the one who told me it was to drink and I felt pretty foolish, dunking the tender, cheesy wonders in the bubbly cold wine. But when a bite of the fritter and prosciutto were taken and followed by the Lambrusco, I had the “ah-ha” moment. The lightly bubbly wine was clean and bright next to the rich sharpness of the cheese coating to the dense, succulent dough.

I give great credit to Chiarello and his team on this dish. It would be easy to make a dough that is leaden and heavy and these were not. It would be easy to under cook them and there was no detection of a gooey, raw interior.  A traditional “dipping sauce” might seem an easier complement but by pairing it with meat and wine and fruit were inventive and original. Kudos are deserved and this Fried Dough Ho couldn’t be happier.

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.

I had heard about the gargantuan size of the Hopkins Street Bakery doughnuts for some time. An evening meeting in Berkeley inspired me to BART over a few hours early for the mile-and-a-half jaunt from the station. It was a beautiful day with early spring flowers in bloom along the Arts-and-Crafts suburbia I walked through, proud of myself for getting in a *little* exercise (secretly justifying what I was about to do to my body and knowing damn well that the walk was not going to counter the doughy goodness I was anticipating).

As I came from a back entrance, walking by Monterey Foods, there was a distinct aroma of maple in the air. It was a warm, inviting, baker’s maple that briefly made me disband my desire for a jelly doughnut. I turned the corner and saw the purple door and my heart skipped a beat. I was slightly disappointed when I entered — because I had brought a book and was hoping to settle in and comfortably enjoy my treat — only to learn this was a very small store-front bakery with no tables or chairs. Not a full doughnut shop, the glass cases were full of cinnamon morning buns that looked intensely inviting, classic French pastries, racks of bread loaves, and meringues. But sitting on top of the counter, was a giant cookie sheet topped with jam-oozing, white striped monstrous jelly doughnuts.

I grabbed my treat and a carton of milk and wandered outside. Even the adjoining Pizza Parlor’s wooden benches were full, so I settled comfortably enough on the curb under a flowering tree with a light breeze on the back of my neck. More than 5″ across, this doughnut also has height and girth, puffy and inviting, the first bite provided the much-desired, classic jelly doughnut flavor; granulated sugar coating my fingertips and raspberry jam dripping off the corner of my chin, I was in true doughnut heaven. There was a lot of cake to the doughnut, yes. It took several bites to get to the full river of redness, but it is not a journey one would complain about. My only complaint — and this is entirely my fault — is that I couldn’t get to the bakery until well after 4:00 in the afternoon, so I know I was experiencing a level of minor staleness which could easily be rectified with an earlier visit. Now I have to try and get to Berkeley in the morning, this is definitely worthy of a second try; maybe warm from the oven next time!

1584 Hopkins St
(between California St & Mcgee Ave)
Berkeley, CA 94707
Neighborhood: North Berkeley
(510) 526-8188

My last meal at The French Laundry was over two years ago. But my memory of their Coffee and Doughnuts offering rings as the benchmark against which all other haute cuisine restaurants’ doughnuts must aspire to. Reservations for The French Laundry are some of the most difficult to acquire. The meal lasted well over six hours and was more than twenty courses. And yet now — after all this time — what do I remember most? The white truffle supplement (because the truffle was larger than a billiard ball) and the Coffee and Doughnuts.

You must understand, it is not ordinary coffee which is served with this perfection of golden fried dough, but a coffee pot de crème topped with a light cream foam. And the doughnut? Warm, yes. Lightly dusted with Baker’s Sugar (a bit finer in texture than its Granulated Sugar counterpart). A miniature doughnut hole nestled perfectly atop its ringed cousin. The dough is rich and moist and cakey. In a word, Perfect. The roundness of the doughnut was Perfect. The doughnut hole was Perfectly round. It was not served too hot, nor too cold. There was not too much sugar on it, nor was it too sweet.

Rumor has it that this is no longer a standard offering on the tasting menus, but must be requested. I can’t confirm that but if you go, you should make sure to ask about it as in their famous Salmon Cornets, it is a classic French Laundry offering which should not be missed, even if it is not on the menu.

And to my great joy and bliss, I was sent home with a small box of doughnut holes… Because that is what they do at The Laundry: They make their customers as happy as they can…

6640 Washington Street
Yountville, CA 94599
(707) 944-2380