The Fried Dough Ho

I am admittedly ashamed that it has taken me so long to getting around to writing about the doughnut shops I visited during my trip to the Pacific Northwest several months ago. I was visiting Bellevue for an art show and made a concerted effort to get out and try Seattle’s famous mini-chain of Top Pot Doughnuts. It was a lovely day in Seattle and considering it was early February, the weather was in my favor. Walking around with an umbrella, I don’t remember if I ever needed to open it, despite an occasional sprinkle. I mention that because the picture I took of the Top Pot blue box is just speckled with a few drops of ubiquitous Seattle rain and I thought that rather appropriate for some reason.

I made the trek to Top Pot from Pike’s Market; under freeway overpass with the Space Needle in sight of the store. My pulse quickened; was it the feeling of the tourist when spying a famous architectural landmark or the knowledge that an artisanal doughnut was soon to be mine? I knew I had arrived at the right spot when I spied a gathering of police vehicles outside the doughnut shop. For somewhere in that pantheon of righteousness, police and doughnuts are forever bonded together. The chuckle came about at the selection of police vehicles; not your standard black-and-white Honda motorcycle or your General Motors four-door sedan. Nope, in progressive and forward thinking Seattle, the police force man streets on Segues and bicycles. I love it up here…

The store was glamorous. Truly. For a doughnut shop, on your left you see a 20-foot wall of books, stately guarding the expansive shop where die-hards like myself graze upon the cakey treats. With a moniker of being “hand-forged doughnuts,” I made my selection with the help of the lovely ladies behind the counter. Top Pot’s selection is mostly cake-driven (versus only a few raised). There were no more filled left when I arrived so I tried to obtain a wide variety of their selection; maple old fashioned, chocolate glazed raised, chocolate cake with raspberry glaze, cinnamon cake, and an apple fritter.

Of those I chose, the chocolate cake with raspberry glaze and the maple old fashioned were the most memorable and special. I was not remotely impressed with the apple fritter, finding is thick and leaden and too heavily glazed. I took a bite of that while I was walking away from the store and after a second bite, was not remotely compelled to finish it. The chocolate glazed was quite decent, but nothing exceptional. While the maple old fashioned is not necessarily a specialty doughnut, it was quite special. Rich without being cloying, the maple flavor was very authentic while so many maple flavors are just that: Flavors. It provided that hint of spiciness that comes from a good maple. The chocolate cake with raspberry was also a favorite of mine. The chocolate cake was also rich without being overly sweet and the raspberry glaze a delightful complement to the unctuous chocolate.

It is the specialty doughnuts that Top Pot offers that I will be seeking out when next I am Seattle. I am curious about their cruller as well as their filled. Although it seems as though their filled doughnuts come from their raised dough, which are not nearly as spectacular as their cake. The two cake doughnuts that I found the most enjoyable had a tight crumb, with earmarks of truly being hand-forged — slightly misshapen oversized in their demeanor. These are honest doughnuts. There are no gimmicks with cereal toppings or vulgar shapes. There is no need to shock the consumer with surreal colors or occult symbols. It is just a simply good doughnut, almost quiet and introspective in its elegance. Great for what it is, without trying to be more. Congratulations, Seattle. I commend you.

I was in Vancouver just before the Winter Olympics. I was very fortunate to have gorgeous walking weather and almost an entire day was spent exploring Granville Island, a must-visit destination spot for visitors. I walked for hours, exploring its art studios, boutique shops, waterfront restaurants, and a pretty fabulous fresh food market. And among all the fabulous gourmet goodies, there loomed above me a bright yellow sign which brought a huge smile to me face; Lee’s Donuts.

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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.