The Fried Dough Ho

Nickel Diner in downtown Los Angeles is now legendary. But in a way, I can say I knew about it when it was just a glimmer in one of its owners’, Monica May’s, eyes. Monica and I frequented the same foodie chat list when she started talking about the renovation of the location and the fight to bring wholesome, home cooking to a derelict neighborhood more known for its homeless and crack addicts. In two short years, she and her partner, Kristen, have been instrumental in changing the neighborhood.

After my excessive fried dough excursion the night before, I thought I wouldn’t be up for another heavy round, but the reputation of Nickel Diner’s doughnuts prevailed and I knew there was no way I was leaving without trying every available flavor. We also ordered some savory cuisine as well, as reported on Feast. The Nutella and the Orange Popcycle were sold out when we arrived, but I was more than thrilled with the four flavors which were available.

The most lauded and talked about seems to be their Maple Bacon Doughnut. Easily the best Bacon Fried Dough to date, far surpassing Voodoo’s and Frances bacon beignets, Nickel’s offering has a tight, rich crumb of a ring, topped with Applewood-smoked bacon bits which have been delicately suspended in a lightly authentic, not overpowering maple glaze. In speaking with Monica, she confirmed a suspicion that the bacon was fried to the point where absolutely no uncooked fat is left, assuring maximum crunch factor of this savory component. And the bacon bits were fully laden across the top of the plate-sized fried dough goodness; rich and satisfying with a great balance between the salt of the bacon and the sweetness in the glaze, without being overhwhelming in any one of its ingredients.

The oddity of the four doughnuts we consumed was the Strawberry Crunch. This simple, plain cake doughnut is heavily and decadently coated with tiny bits of freeze-dried strawberry bits. Upon first bite – without remembering exactly what our waitress told us its flavor – we were tasting the pungent, tanginess which hearkened to fresh citrus. It was only later, after we confirmed its flavor, did we realize exactly what flavor it really was. While trying to recall its flavor before knowing, one in the party reminisced back to Trix cereal and the crispy, almost concentrated flavor. It makes sense, though. Freeze drying the fresh strawberries would concentrate those flavors, producing forth a bright, tangy and envigorating flavor.

When we arrived at the diner, I saw a young boy consuming the Red Velvet Doughnut and I knew I had to have one of those. Differing from the classic Red Velvet cake in that the actual cake of the doughnut was plain and the Red Velvet flavor was a crumble topping which completely encased the rich doughnut, then split and filled with cream cheese whipped filling. I am still trying to decipher exactly what ingredients would have been combined to create that classic Red Velvet taste; a bit of cocoa and vinegar, yes. But the slight tang of cream cheese played off the delicate crumble to incite childhood memories of the classically moist and playful Red Velvet Chocolate Cake. As attested by the photos, it was hard to not stick our fingers in the filling.

The piece de resistance, however, was a new creation not yet on the t-shirt (which I acquired, of course), or the menu; an Irish Car Bomb doughnut with Guinness crumble and Jameson-infused cream filing. Had I thought the previous, unctuous presentations were exceptional, in this we had a show-stopper, Hall of Fame doughnut. Rich without being cloying, the Guinness crunch was at first undiscernable exactly what flavor profile it was profiling; sweet, yes – but with umami and a touch of earthiness. In this creation, we were experiencing doughnut perfection known only a few times before, most memorably at The French Laundry. Yes, ladies and gentleman, for doughnut nirvana in the Los Angeles area, it does not get any better than Nickel Diner and the creation of the Irish Car Bomb doughnut goes beyond inspiration to the level of epiphany. Without kitsch or the gimmick of a children’s cereal topping, a truly exceptional taste has been created and while one might expect to experience such flavors in a cupcake or a plated dessert, it is brought forth in the form of the humble doughnut; elevating the doughnut beyond the realm of mere breakfast pastry and into a religious experience.

When I first thought of coming to Austin, it was for a mere vacation getaway and nothing more. It was not intended to be a grand culinary getaway and there was no particular destination eatery that I had intended upon delving into (well, except *some* form of barbecue). But then I learned about Gourdoughs. This was going to be THE fried dough destination for the Ho and it was a slight disappointment to discover they were not open in the afternoon, during my first attempted visit. Apparently Gourdoughs is becoming so famous that even Tony Bordain stopped by a week or so before me.

No matter. Going back was not a problem and in the early evening, a crowd was already starting to form. Located within a converted Airstream trailer on one of the more manicured and stylized corner lots where these trailers seem to be situated, we debated the extensive menu for the ultimate fried dough experience. I peered inside the trailer and saw two young guys, working hard over the frying vats, pulling out monstrously-sized raw doughnuts.

There was a significant debate on what flavors to order as the menu is extensive and bizarre. It was a given that the savory offerings had to be ordered; both the Mother Clucker, a giant doughnut topped with sliced fried chicken strips and honey butter and the Flying Pig, the doughnut with maple syrup icing topped with crisply-fried and curled bacon. Unlike Voodoo Donuts maple bacon bar, where the bacon is lied across the bar in limp, cold strips, here the bacon is almost a decorative flower of ribbons, perched atop the offering, almost precariously, just stuck in with the maple syrup acting as a glue.

Of the two savory doughnuts, the Flying Pig was the clear favorite. The amount of grease used to fry the chicken strips in the Mother Clucker was too prevalent and I was only able to taste hot grease and barely any of the subtle honey butter flavor. But I could see how this doughnut would be favored by college kids with its ample protein and sugar combination. But the Flying Pig, on the other hand, was well-balanced and perfectly fried. Not too much grease or residual oil and delightfully crispy bacon.

Initially, we decided upon two sweet versions of the Gourdoughs doughnuts, Son of a Peach with peach filling, cinnamon, and sugar and cake mix topping as well as the Dirty Berry, a classic doughnut with chocolate icing and grilled strawberries. As I was ordering, I asked the guy if there was anything truly exceptional that I was missing. He heartily recommended Granny’s Pie with caramel, pecans, bananas, and chunks of graham crackers.

Quite frankly, outside of the novelty factor of these doughnuts, I was not that impressed. Don’t get me wrong, at the time I was more than giddy at their opulent size, variety of toppings, and shear ingenuity of thought. But were they truly great tasting? Not really. I found them overly sweet and complicated. The peach especially was so sickly sweet as to be inedible for me. Of the three sweet ones, I did enjoy Granny’s Pie the best as the caramel was of exceptional quality and I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the crunchy nuts and graham crackers with the soft dough and bananas. But a mere bite or two sufficed. The toppings themselves obscured the quality of the fried dough itself.

If I lived in Austin, I am confident I would enjoy these as the culmination of a date; something to go and share with someone for fun and levity, with no intention of ever finishing one. There is too much of a reminder of fried candy bars or Twinkies at state fairs. Yes, one can do such a thing for the novelty, but it is hardly something one would want to eat often and being the Ho that I am, I am more intrigued with offerings that wouldn’t give me a coronary. It was definitely the most over-the-top and memorable Fried Dough experience I have had and for that, I am thrilled. But do I feel the need to do it again? Not really.
1219 South Lamar Blvd
Austin, TX 78704

I remember when I first started talking with friends about my desire to start this blog. Specifically, it was the night I took San Francisco Chronicle food writer, Marlena Spieler, to experience one of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco, Nombe. I discovered Chef Nick Balla when he was cooking for the Kabuki Hotel’s O Izakaya restaurant. He paired up with husband-and-wife team Mari Takahashi and Gil Payne; they closing down their Sozai Izakaya and Nick leaving the Hotel to come together in the Mission with a remarkable and innovative menu.

On my visit with Marlena several months ago, Chef Nick finished the meal with what he calls “Seagull Eggs.” That was the revelatory moment and with my mouth stuffed with one of the lightest and fluffiest fried dough offering I had experienced, I proposed to Chef Nick. I want to marry the man who can create a fried dough on this level. I took pictures of the fried dough I had with Marlena and they were stuffed with a bit of freshly-made yuzu jam. And those pictures are just as dark as the ones I am posting today.

I was determined to come back and get better photographs and the culmination of my Fried Dough Birthday Celebration seemed the perfect opportunity. That and the fact that I had been wanting to get Lisa here for ages. Ironically, I forgot that Nombe is closed on Tuesdays as Lisa and I finished our Bacon Beignet at Frances before walking down to the shuttered Nombe. But Nick was there, working on a new bar area and we promised to return. Just two days later, after a great evening at Mission Street Food, Lisa and my fish monger friend, Gabe, and I sauntered into Nombe to FINALLY get my Birthday Sea Gull Eggs.

This time, served with a Strawberry Jam and fresh crème fraîche and I Got A Candle! Nick’s offerings are fairly large; 3″ across. Served warm with dipping cream, these are easily my favorite freshly-made dessert offerings in the city. These are not cakey, heavy doughnuts. Lightly dusted with granulated sugar and so ethereally light, the hint of sweetness in the dough is balanced with the slightly tart jam which is just barely inserted into the cake. When the platter arrives, it is easy to say, “Oh, I could never eat so many,” but as the plate empties, it is much easier to say, “I want more.” Now I just have to start making Chef Nick’s engagement ring…

It was an odd night at Yoshi’s in San Franciso. I was actually hanging out in the lobby area, selling jewelry in an attempt by ArtNowSF to host an evening of art and music. Sadly, most of the people arriving at the jazz music venue that evening were more interested in whomever was performing that evening than my jewelry, the amazing glassblowers, the guerrilla t-shirt designers and graffiti artists. We artists sat there, occasionally peddling a trinket here or a bauble there, but mostly we were left to our own devices.

Fortunately, the waitstaff were pretty accommodating in providing service and after a brief chat with the chef, I was quickly satisfied with a really incredible lobster salad. I had read about a warm doughnut through Michael Bauer’s review on SFGate. He was fairly enthusiastic about them and for a professional critic to specifically name a fried dough as worthy, made it that much more intriguing for me.

And while they were enjoyable, I am not sure they are quite as superlative as Bauer seemed to think. What he said was, “Her warm doughnuts – better than fresh-out-of-the-oven Krispy Kremes – are served with a creamy whiskey sauce.” It is no surprise that I don’t particularly think that Krispy Kremes — fresh-out-of-the-oven or otherwise — are especially noteworthy, so that might have been him just filling fodder in his column space. And mine were not served with a creamy whiskey sauce, but a coffee-flavored sauce that showed no hint of alcohol. And there was a separate shot glass of strawberry sauce with a chocolate-covered Pocky stick there for — well, it was there for something; I’m not quite sure what.

The powdered-sugar-dusted pillows were fluffy and warm, but I also found then surprisingly dense and leaden. I am very curious as to what sort of batter or dough was used for the confection. They weren’t bad, necessarily, but just heavier than I anticipated. If a fried dough is going to be cakey, than it should be rich and tender and these were not. The rumor is that they no longer exist on the menu and perhaps that is a good thing.

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