The Fried Dough Ho

No special reviews, no flavor comparisons or analysis, and no historical references. Just a darn pretty looking Stars and Stripes offering to commemorate our nation’s birth.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

I feel a little ashamed. I visited Voodoo Doughnuts back in February, during a trip up through the Pacific Northwest and it has taken me an awfully long time to getting around to documenting that visit. I was pretty excited to visit this brick-clad temple of fried dough as their Maple Bacon Bar is one of the most acclaimed in the doughnut world. I loved visiting Voodoo; the interior has ouija boards and a giant, hilarious sculpture. It is irreverent in all its offerings; giant glazed doughnuts with tongues sticking out at you, demonic pentagrams painted in icing, and frosting colors that are never found in nature.

The sexually-suggestive names ascribed to these painted wonders are equally humorous; Triple Chocolate Penetration is a chocolate cake doughnut, topped with chocolate frosting and Coco-Puffs cereal, Old Dirty Bastard is raised doughnut with chocolate frosting topped with Oreo cookies and peanut butter, Cock-N-Balls is a raised doughnut shaped — well, you can figure it out — like it belongs on a porno shoot. These are novelty doughnuts taken to extreme and very little offered at Voodoo is not irreverent.

I went to Voodoo twice during my trip. The first time was just for myself and my friend, Ralph, who had offered his couch to me during my trip. We tasted the famous Bacon Bar and when obtained fresh (i.e., the bacon is still crispy), it is quite exceptional. I also ordered a Voodoo Doll, raised yeast freakishly-shaped jelly-filled that is oddly decorated complete with a pretzel stake impaled through its heart. We tasted the Mango Tango, a raised yeast doughnut filled with mango jelly and topped with vanilla frosting. Of all, this had the most intriguing flavor; tangy and bright, it was an unexpected flavor for a doughnut.  And I ordered the Apple Fritter, that which I benchmark all doughnut shops. It was here that Voodoo sort of faltered as it was just too thick and cakey without that requisite consistent crunch and rich apple flavor that the Ho requires.

A week after my first Voodoo visit, I returned, this time to purchase more than a dozen offerings to bring home to my San Francisco buddies. What came with me (or was eaten en route home), included the Triple Chocolate Penetration, Grape Ape, and Tangfastic. The Grape Ape and Tangfastic are topped with flavored powdered sugars which are a bit over-the-top for my tastes. There is a point where the garnish overwhelms the actual fried dough. They are all indeed very memorable but are they all great doughnuts? Not necessarily. Like my trip to Gourdoughs in Austin, I can appreciate the novelty factor of certain flavors and garnishes. But there is a point where some flavors are just too much. I think those doughnuts with the children’s cereal, powdered Tang, bubble gum, or M&Ms are fun, but the flavors are too sickly sweet. The maple bacon, however, is a true joy and the quality of the basic cakes are exceptional. And, they offer Vegan options which is fabulous.

My last doughnut stop in Austin was truly a special one. It was recommended to us by the lady selling us macarons at La Boite and is called Mrs. Johnson’s Bakery. What makes it special is a variety of things, mostly that fresh, warm doughnuts are available after 9:00 p.m. in the evening. And so we waited until after the sun had set for my epic journey towards Fried Dough Ho’dom.

Driving through the streets of Austin, there was a PBS radio station on the car radio playing tunes of the 1950s and I felt as though I were in the George Lucas movie, American Graffiti; this was as much about the journey as the destination. When we arrived, I could already smell the aroma of hot sugar in the air and I spied the sign which indicated that Mrs. Johnson’s had been around since 1948 and the building helped confirm that sense of nostalgia. In the front window was a long machine which rolled out the dough and cut the slab into its octagonal shapes. I watched the worker deftly pulling out the holes from the freshly-hewn rounds. All this joy and wonderment and I was not even inside yet.

What I was faced with surprised me; the full production of doughnut manufacturing going at full steam. It was so oddly gratifying and heartfelt. I was giddy and my enthusiasm was contagious. Enraptured at the scene, I watched closely as one worker organized the holes while another was laying out trays of freshly-cut rounds to be risen. And then another grabbed a giant bowl of dough and it dawned on me that my camera had the video record function. So I am pleased to share my first personal recording of doughnut preparation on Fried Dough Ho:

They knew I was a die-hard enthusiast. Ordering a small selection to take home and taste, the guy behind the counter put an extra doughnut in my box as well as one in my hand before I left. A freshly fried and glazed raised octagon of deliciousness, the warm doughnut in my hand was light and tender. Oh — and did I tell you it was WARM? Other than full-on restaurant offerings, I can’t think of when I have ever had a warm doughnut. I know that was the big selling point for Krispy Kreme for all those years, but in California, I never tried one fresh, only old and cold and mediocre.

What came home to try besides the warm glazed raised was a jelly-filled, chocolate cake, plain cake, and apple fritter. Someone else recommended the apple fritter and sadly, it just did not stand up to my benchmark fritter, Randy’s doughnuts in Los Angeles. Here the apples were indeed canned and fake and it was over spiced with too much cinnamon. The two cake doughnuts however, were exceptional. With a tight, moist crumb, the chocolate was slightly oily but not in a way that I found derogatory whatsoever. Instead, it made it richer and headier. The same dough used in the raised glazed was also that in the jelly doughnut and again, I was perfectly thrilled with this smaller-than-usual sized doughnut. Intensely light and fluffy, the raspberry filling was undoubtedly canned and mass-produced, but not overly sweet and perfectly acceptable.

I have had many mass-produced doughnuts, but these were a cut above. Fresh and warm aside, there was an inherent quality in the knowledge of the fact that these doughnuts were hand-made and not entirely machine-manufactured. And that hand-made quality is discernible, providing a level of excellence and satisfaction. There is much to be said for the vintage atmosphere of the building, the equipment, and the surroundings. Perhaps it was the music I was listening to or hearkening back to an era of simplified goodness, but Mrs Johnson’s certainly helps give the consumer that passionate level of contentment with its doughnuts.

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.