The Fried Dough Ho

It was a pretty special day. Actually, it was pretty mundane as I was at home working on some jewelry when I glanced through the day’s events online, only to discover there was a Polish Festival going on at that very minute in Golden Gate Park. I had to get there fast — it was already 2:00 in the afternoon! The trip was a total gamble. I checked out a car and drove pell-mell through the streets of San Francisco, hoping against hope that part of the traditional foods being offered at the festival might be Pączki, the Polish version of a jelly doughnut. When I arrived, there was a long line of people waiting to get into the building. I got in that line and waited too — then I noticed a guy who just sauntered by and just walk in. I asked the security guard what the line was for (assuming it was the entrance) and was told it was for food. Before I am going to spend an hour in line for food, I at least wanted to see if they had what I was looking for…

The line for hot food was incredibly long. Upwards of an hour plus, if not longer. It winded its way into the large room with banquet tables where many were already feasting on boiled dumplings, sausages, and more. But then I saw it – up against the back wall was a very long table set with sweets. Fortunately, that table didn’t require the tickets that were sold for the hot food and a young girl — probably 9 or 10 years old — was taking cash for the desserts.

What I was looking for came au natural (no filling) or with plum filling. And nearby, I saw a gentleman working furiously to fill these Pączki. And very fortunate for me, Edmund was more than willing to help me learn more about this ethnic specialty. (more…)

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.

It was pretty funny; Lisa and I were sitting at the bar at Baker & Banker, chatting with an affable server named David, deciding on the dinner choices. The desirability (or not) of a dessert will dictate whether we are sharing variations of starters and entrées. Do we share two starters and two entrées? Three starters and one entrée?  And whilst perusing the menu — and not realizing the dessert menu was printed on the back — I began to inquire about the availability of a fried dough delicacy (because I always try and check, just to make sure).  Before I finished my sentence, David suggested we save room for their specialty dessert, PB&J Doughnuts; strawberry jam-filled goodies with peanut butter dipping sauce. Knowing smiles grow between Lisa and me — she knows me so well and knows how happy this makes me — to have such serendipity.

Our diner completed, David advised us that the doughnuts are normally served in threes and would we like four on our order since we were sharing. Trying to watch the ever-growing waistline, three should be more than enough, thanks. The elongated plate arrived with perfectly round globes of wonder. Warm and crunchy, this was Jelly Doughnut Nirvana with warm, house-made strawberry jam filling oozing out with the first bite (a rarity!). So often with a jelly doughnut, one must eat through a third or a half of the doughnut before the jelly appears. Encrusted with granulated sugar, we took our first bites naked, without the dipping sauce and with that first unctuous fruit hitting our taste buds, smiles and groans were immediately emitted.

The cake structure was light and spongy with a superb amount of tooth to the crunchy exterior. The dipping sauce was made of three simple ingredients; peanut butter, cream, and powdered sugar. The doughnut-alone-bite was perfectly lovely, but laden with the creamy sauce, one is transported back to childhood with a primal memory of wholesome goodness which has been elevated to elegance while still maintaining that sense of familial comfort.

The biggest problem for me is that these are available to me within walking distance and I could see a serious addiction burgeoning.

1701 Octavia St
(between Bush St & Austin St)
San Francisco, CA 94109
Neighborhoods: Pacific Heights, Lower Pac Heights, Japantown
(415) 351-2500