Just Doughnut: Doughnut Soup Recipe for Serious Eats

Why eat from "soup to nuts" when you can get all the important stuff in one delicious bowl of Doughnut Soup?

This creamy, dreamy dish is the ultimate in doughnut decadence. It starts by caramelizing glazed doughnuts in a buttery bath, then mixing it with milk and heating the mixture until the flavors merge beautifully in a hot, sweet, very creamy broth. It's my easy-to-prepare take on a dessert served at Chicago'sMoto, a restaurant revered in the world of molecular gastronomy.

Note: Of course, while not mandatory, it's far more adorable when garnished with mini doughnuts before serving.

For the full entry and recipe, visit Serious Eats!

CakeSpy Undercover: Cake Gumshoe Jenny's Sweet Texas Finds

Photos: Purple House DirtCakeSpy Note: Cake Gumshoe Jenny, who blogs at Purple House Dirt, is an invaluable source of sweet knowledge. She's visited sweet-shops in Ireland and was a recipe tester for my lovely and amazing book. After recently visiting the State Fair of Texas, she also hit up a couple of other sweet stops along the way:

After the State Fair, I also snagged some snaps at a little roadside hand pie shop I found in Hillsboro, TX. I had the tastiest sweet potato pie in this bakery-in-an-Exxon. I watched as they rolled out fresh dough and filled each pie full, and then fried the whole thing in peanut oil. They advertise for miles before you get there - and if you don't pay attention you'd just pass it on the interstate. But it was worth the stop for a hot pocket of sticky sweet potato. 

Funky Monkey DonutI've added some pictures from another sweet spot I encountered in Austin - Gourdough's. It is manna from doughnut heaven. Open really late in the night, they have drunken cravings covered - from donuts with fried chicken and honey butter to menu items that make you giggle when you order them (Blue Balls, anyone?). I caught Gourdough's the night before Austin's all-mobile-food bonanza, the Gypsy Picnic, and was lucky I did - it wasn't open any other night I was visiting. Although I know the area well, finding this little truck was a bit of a challenge - I must have driven by 6 times before I saw the driveway. I watched groups of 5 and 6 eating single doughnuts, and I was worried I over-ordered...but sacrifice I must! I got the Funky Monkey - which is basically bananas foster over cream cheese icing and a fresh fried old fashioned doughnut (it might have been a cake doughnut, but it was hard to tell). I ate that one blazing hot, standing in my rental kitchen gorging at midnight. I also grabbed a Miss Shortcake (pictured top), one of the favorites on the menu, and at it for breakfast. Another cake doughnut covered with cream cheese frosting, but then topped with sliced strawberries. I know I'll be back there again. 

For more of Jenny's adventures, visit Purple House Dirt.

C'mon Get Happy: Happy Donuts, San Francisco

First things first. If you like boutique doughnuts, and you're in San Francisco, go elsewhere. Go to Pebbles or Dynamo, where they have a fine product and creative flavors with local ingredients and all of that business.

But if you're looking for a donut that simply gets the job done, and is deliciously greasy and cheap, go to Happy Donuts. They have several locations throughout the Bay Area; I went to the one on Haight Street.

This place was suggested by SpySister's Boyfriend, who saves the world professionally for a living, and who, unlike me, is unconcerned with the backstory of his baked goods, when I was asking around about the best baked goods, said something along the lines of “I like Happy Donuts because they are good.”

That was enough for me. And at 90 cents apiece, these doughnuts will do you right. I bought two chocolate frosted (with sprinkles) and immediately downed one, and found it a perfect low-brow, high-sweet treat; I left, and was solicited for money by a down on his luck fellow on the street. “Do you have a dollar?” he said. “No,” I replied, “But I do have an extra donut.” Well, as it turns out that's what the guy was going to use a dollar for, so he was pleased as punch to receive this round of dough. Dollars to donuts indeed!

Happy Donuts, Haight Street and elsewhere, San Francisco.

Love Letter to the Vanilla Kreme Donut at Dunkin' Donuts

Dear Vanilla Kreme Donut of Dunkin' Donuts,

You may have suspected this for some time, but I'd like to put it out there so it no longer tortures my soul from within:

I love you.

I love you, I love you, I love you. I have since the first time we met, on a serendipitous day in my third or fourth year, as a child growing up in suburban New Jersey. At that time, Dunkin' Donuts still allowed smoking, and was a popular hangout for recovering alcoholics, who could belly up to the donut bar at the location next to Foodtown on 18th Avenue, buy cigarettes at the vending machine conveniently located in the store, and drink unlimited coffee and eat donuts and talk about how long you'd all been sober and how deeply, extremely happy you all were.

I love how you're an elusive beast of a sweet treat: not every Dunkin' location has you. And even of the ones that do, not all versions are created equal. Some locations serve a version that looks like a jelly doughnut from the outside, but has a Kreme filling instead; some are served with a dollop of Kreme filling served on top, as a garnish; some have it coming out of the side, where the Kreme is piped in. Some versions have sprinkles. For the record, my ideal version is the one where the excess Kreme is piped out the side in a pretty pouf, with sprinkles.

I love how sometimes (oh, beautiful times!) when I purchase you, you are so full of Kreme filling that you weigh as much as a brick (the sweetest and best brick ever). Sometimes the Kreme filling is paltry, but I still love those times I have with you--just slightly less.

I love how your filling is called Kreme, not "Cream" or even "Creme". There is no illusion being made here that your filling is in any way healthy or good for me. And I appreciate that honesty.

I love how, when put in the freezer, the Kreme filling hardens into a sweet, hard (but not frozen) mass, and the experience of eating you, dear donut, can therefore be stretched out, sucking on the Kreme filling until it gently melts on my tongue.

I love how you make me a believer in yeast doughnuts, which are usually too airy and disappointing to me, but your Kreme filling adds the substantial aspect I seek in a sweet treat.

I love how you leave your mark upon me, leaving me looking like some sort of cocaine fiend after I've devoured you--and though you are a drug, the powder is far more benign, made of confectioners' sugar.

It is true: from time to time I have strayed. I have had a fling or two with Chocolate Kreme, but it cannot compare. There's just something about you, Vanilla Kreme, with that filling that tastes like the most wonderful donut filling adaptation of store bought birthday cake frosting, that I simply cannot quit.

And I never want to quit you, dear donut. Ours is a forever kind of love. And even though I live in Seattle, where we do not have Dunkin' Donuts, I promise to visit you whenever I return to Dunkin' Donuts country.

Love, CakeSpy

For a Dunkin' Donuts location close to you, visit dunkindonuts.com.

Holey Yum: A Baker's Dozen of Sweet Donut Links and Lore

Photo: The Felt BakeryGuess what? It's National Donut (or is it Doughnut?) day. Here's a baker's dozen of sweet holey links and lore:

FACT: William Rosenberg, founder of Dunkin' Donuts, met Mario Puzo (author of The Godfather) "at a weight-loss clinic...Puzo had a hand in convincing Rosenberg to write a memoir, Time to Make the Donuts." (Donuts: An American Passion)

Sweet, but not to eat: a felt doughnut-breakfast plate by The Felt Bakery. (pictured top)

Just Donut! Holey treats...using canned biscuits? It's true.

Father, son, holey spirit! Jesus Donut! (Thanks, Mike!) 

Doughnut Upside-down Cake: Believe it.

Doughnut...or donut? Let's discuss.

Why, oh why, do doughnuts have holes? Learn more lore here.

Sweet destination: Peter Pan Donuts, Brooklyn.

The places you'll go: Doughnut Seeds!

Ever heard of doughnut pops? The most delicious thing I played no part in inventing.

Sweet love: a love-letter to Donut Pub, late at night.

Don't hit a wall: Visit Wall Drug, in South Dakota, and get doughnuts!

Eat like a cowboy: discover Cowboy Donuts, in Wyoming!

...and of course, if you're in Seattle, The Original Bakery is celebrating Donut Day in a big way!

Just Donut: Sweet Love for Peter Pan Donuts, Greenpoint, Brooklyn

I'll tell you something. My first apartment, after moving out of my college dorm, was in a magical little Polish corner of Brooklyn known as Greenpoint. And my first bakery visit in my first apartment was to Peter Pan Donuts.

The first visit (this was in 2001, btw) was sort of like stepping into a time and space machine: the staff was seemingly completely comprised of teenage Polish girls wearing (totally non-ironic) pink zip-up uniforms. But amazingly, the donuts were only about 80 cents. Score!

To say I fell hard for this place would be an understatement: I even learned how to say “thank you” in Polish to endear myself to the counter girls (it worked).

What is it that is so great about these donuts? Well, they are unfussy, unpretentious, and just straight-up good. They are fried to perfection, slightly greasy without being soggy, and cakey and thick without being leaden. Just out of the fryer they are a donut revelation; even at the end of the day, they hold their own.

Since 2001, Peter Pan has gained some acclaim, capturing the heart of Tina Fey; the donuts are now $1; but it's still just as magic as I remember.

Also tasty: the crumb cake and corn muffins. This visit, I heard that they had cupcakes too, but they were out by the time I arrived.

Peter Pan Donuts, 727 Manhattan Avenue, Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

Holey Grail: Why Do Doughnuts Have Holes?

If you are a truly devoted doughnut lover, it's likely that this doughy dilemma has come up in your mind: why do doughnuts have holes? 

Turns out, there are a few tales out there. Let's discover them together, shall we?

At least three versions of the story involve a Mr. Hanson Gregory, a seafarer who turned tall-tale-teller in his golden years. According to a 1938 article in The Tuscaloosa News,

it remained for an old New England Sea captain, one Hanson Gregory, from Camden, Maine, to introduce the hole in the doughnut, as we know it today. As an old man he liked to tell his story many times--how as a boy he had been watching his mother frying doughnuts and had noticed that the centers always remained partially uncooked and doughy. 'Mother', he said, "leave a hole in the center." Laughingly, she obliged him and never went back to the old way. Her method was widely copied.

There is also an unlikely, but wholly (holey?) enjoyable, version of the story, also involving Gregory, which goes thusly (according to the Lewiston Evening Journal): "one legend is that he liked to munch fried cakes while steering his craft. One day, in 1847, the seas were rough and he needed both hands to control the rudder. So he slapped several cakes on the spoke of his wheel, making holes."

And third, there is a lighthearted variation on the lightened fried doughnut rounds which states that Gregory purposefully poked a hole in the doughnut to lighten it up "because he had already lost six men overboard due to the heaviness of the doughnuts".

Of course, according to aforementioned Lewiston article, another New Englander, Henry Ellis, of Hyannis, MA, argued there was even a more outlandish story behind the doughnut hole: "An Indian's arrow aimed at a housewife pierced a round of fried cake". The article does not back this up with any evidence, but you know, this could just be further proof that it wasn't all making nice and Thanksgiving in the early US.

Of course, Hanson Gregory's tales get even more street cred based on the fact that he's the only one commemorated as doughnut hole inventor who boasts a historical plaque: it's true. In Rockport, ME, you can find a plaque inscribed with the following: "In commemmoration. This is the birthplace of Captain Hanson Gregory, who first invented the hole in the doughnut in 1847. Erected by his friends, Nov. 2, 1947."

And beyond that, the oldest article I could find on the subject points to Gregory as well (from the Washington Post, March 26, 1916), which I found here:

Old Salt” Doughnut Hole Inventor Tells Just How Discovery Was Made And Stomach of Earths Saved 

Boston, March 25.—The man who invented the hole in the doughnut has been found. He is Capt. Hanson Gregory, at present an inmate in Sailor’s Snug Harbor, at Quincy, Mass. Doughnut cutters have made fortunes for men; millions eat doughnuts for breakfast and feel satisfied. Doctors do not assail the doughnut. And all of this owes its being to Capt. Gregory, who made the doughnut a safe, sane and hygienic food. 

It’s a long story, mates; but as the 85-year-old chap relates it, it’s only too short. Outside the fact that Capt. Gregory is a bit hard of hearing, he’s as sound as new timber. 

He’s a product of Maine; and so Maine can lay claim to the discoverer of the hole in the doughnut, along with the discoverer of new ways to evade the prohibition laws. But Capt. Gregory’s discovery is of real use in the world; millions have risen, and millions more shall rise up, and call him blessed. 

‘Bout ‘47 Was the Date. 
“It was way back—oh, I don’t know just what year—let me see—born in ‘31, shipped when I was 13—well, I guess it was about ‘47, when I was 16, that I was aboard ship and discovered the hole which was later to revolutionize the doughnut industry. 

“I first shipped aboard the Isaac Achorn, three-masted schooner, Capt. Rhodes, in the lime trade.  
Later I joined other crews and other captains, and it was on one of these cruises that I was mawing doughnuts. 

“Now in them days we used to cut the doughnuts into diamond shapes, and also into long strips, bent in half, and then twisted.  I don’t think we called them doughnuts then—they was just ‘fried cakes’ and ‘twisters.’ 

“Well, sir, they used to fry all right around the edges, but when you had the edges done the insides was all raw dough.  And the twisters used to sop up all the grease just where they bent, and they were tough on the digestion.” 

“Pretty d—d tough, too!” profanely agreed one of the dozen pipe-smoking fellows who were all eyes and ears, taking in their comrade’s interview by The Post reporter. 

With a glance at the perfervid interrupter, the discoverer continued: 

“Well, I says to myself, ‘Why wouldn’t a space inside solve the difficulty?’ I thought at first I’d take one of the strips (Col. 2—ed.) and roll it around, then I got an inspiration, a great inspiration. 

“I took the cover off the ship’s tin pepper box, and—I cut into the middle of that doughnut the first hole ever seen by mortal eyes!” 

“Were you pleased?” 

“Was Columbus pleased?  Well, sir, them doughnuts was the finest I ever tasted.  No more indigestion—no more greasy sinkers—but just well-done, fried-through doughnuts. 

“That cruise over, I went home to my old mother and father in Camden, Me., where I was born. My father, Hanson Gregory, sr., lived to be 93, and my mother lived to be 79. She was a pretty old lady then. I saw her making doughnuts in the kitchen—I can see her now, and as fine a woman as ever-lived, was my mother. 

Taught Trick to Mother. 
“I says to her: ‘Let me make some doughnuts for you.’ She says all right, so I made her one or two and then showed her how. 

“She then made several panfuls and sent them down to Rockland, just outside Camden. Everybody was delighted and they never made doughnuts any other way except the way I showed my mother. 

“Well, I never took out a patent on it; I don’t suppose any one can patent anything he discovers; I don’t suppose Peary could patent the north pole or Columbus patent America. But I thought I’d get out a doughnut cutter—but somebody got in ahead of me. 

Hole “Cut Out,” His Joke. 
“Of course a hole ain’t so much; but it’s the best part of the doughnut--you’d think so if you had ever tasted the doughnuts we used to eat in ‘31. Of course, lots of people joke about the hole in the doughnut.  I’ve got a joke myself:  Whenever anybody says to me: ‘Where’s the hole in the doughnut?’ I always answer: ‘It’s been cut out!’” and the old chap laughed loud and longat his little sally, while the rest joined in. 

So there he sits—in the Snug Harbor by the sea. And whenever there’s doughnuts on the day’s fare, Capt. Gregory takes a personal pride trying to do what nobody’s succeeded in doing yet—in trying to find the hole in the doughnut. And whenever the old salts rally him about it, he always springs his little joke: 

“The hole’s been cut out, I guess!” to the delight of the whole shipful. 

While Gregory certainly has the flashiest connections to the doughnut hole, I'd just like to offer up a couple more bits of food for thought: 

Some say that the Pennsylvania Dutch were responsible for making the first holey doughnuts in the US, cutting the centers to ensure even frying and easier dunking. 

Another theory that I personally have is that an explanation for the doughnut hole may be twofold: while the ease in even frying certainly makes sense, it also seems that the doughnut was rising in popularity in the US around the same time as the bagel, which were frequently sold on sticks on the Lower East Side of New York City. Could this easy mode of selling have perpetuated the ring around the doughnut?

Oh, and finally, what of the dough from the middle? Interestingly, those little doughnut dots we love so much aren't necessarily cut from the same dough as the doughnut: "commercially made ring doughnuts are not made by cutting out the central portion of the cake but by dropping a ring of dough into hot oil from a specially shaped nozzle. However, soon after ring doughnuts became popular, doughnut sellers began to see the opportunity to market "holes" as if they were the portions cut out to make the ring."

Seeking more holey grail? You might want to check out this article on Barry Popik, this one on Mr. Breakfast, or the fascinating Wikipedia entry. And of course, if you call yourself a doughnut devotee but don't own Donuts: An American Passion by John T. Edge, you really should remedy that immediately. It's a great book.

Orange You Glad? The Orange Glazed Cake Donut from Family Donut, Seattle

I like fruit, really I do.

Just not in dessert, where my philosophy is "if you're gonna do it, do it". I don't like the creeping suspicion that my sweet treat might be a little healthy. 

However, when it's in glaze form on a cake donut, as in the case of the Orange Donut at Family Donuts, a greasy spoon of a donut shop if there ever was one, I find it acceptable.

First off, it's a cake donut, which means that it's delightfully oily and decidedly not low-fat. Believe it or not, the citrus flavor permeating the fried dough is actually kind of nice--it cuts through the flavor of "fry" which can sometimes be lacking in dimension. The orange flavor is in the cake donut but also the glaze, which is applied liberally.

To put it mathematically? Crisp citrus orange flavor + hefty round of fried dough = TOTAL YUM.

Family Donut Shop, 2100 N. Northgate Way, Seattle.

Beyond A Baker's Dozen: Sweet Links for National Doughnut Day

Upon first glance, these Doughnut Seeds might appear to simply be cereal cleverly packaged for sale for a tidy little profit.

But you're so wrong, because oh, the places these doughnut seeds could go. In honor of National Doughnut Day, here are several things to which doughnut seeds can aspire:

They could become delicious doughnut pies:
They could become athletic heros (just donut!):

Or maybe Trompe l'oeil bagel-and-cream cheese doughnuts:
They could become Red Velvet Cake doughnuts:
They could become any number of these clever donuts:
Or maybe they'd grow into doughnut lookalike cookies:
They could grow up to be the inspiration for portraits:
They could become German chocolate cake doughnuts:
They could become the anchor for some delicious Cadbury Creme Eggs Benedict:
Or perhaps a doughnut burger:
Or maybe even a wedding cake substitute:
They could become the hopeless quandary:

They could be a saving grace at a Texas airport:
They could be the crowning glory on a Doughnut Upside Down cake:
They could become the sweetest thing for 500 miles around in South Dakota:
They could make cupcakes even better.
They could be the subject of a tell-all, such as the amazing book Donuts: An American Passion by John T. Edge (which I think everyone should read!) 
They could be a Los Angeles landmark...

Or they could be written up in fancy doughnut day articles on MSN.

So there you have it--who knows what could happen when you plant these sweet seeds?

Bittersweet: A Tale of Donut Despair Diverted in Portland, OR

I want to tell you a sad, sad story about Delicious Donuts in Portland, Oregon.

Based on many accounts, this is the donut place in Portland--"better than Voodoo" was the bold claim of one trusted source.

But I couldn't tell you for myself, because I've never tasted them.

Oh, I've tried. In the past, when showing at the Crafty Wonderland fair in its old location at the Doug Fir Lounge, I had tried to score a doughnut on my way to the fair, but each and every time I was confronted by this sign:

I wasn't too put off though--generally I was heading over there at 11 a.m. or so, and I can understand if a popular shop might be sold out by then. If anything, it heightened the anticipation.

And on a more recent trip to Portland for the Crafty Wonderland spring fair, I was prepared, and got up early on a Sunday morning and headed over to the donut shop, a spring in my step from the sweet prospect of glazed and fried  goodness in my near future a bit before 8 a.m. Cars were parked outside, and I felt hopeful: this was gonna be my day.

But here's what I found:

The only difference? The sign was slightly nicer. But somehow, this provided little comfort.

Sold out of donuts before 8 a.m. on a Sunday? I can understand if you're a popular place, but come on. If you're selling out that early, you need to make more donuts.

Yes, I was facing deep donut despair, but happily this story has a sweet ending: because a mere few hours later I was delighted with a surprise Voodoo Doughnut, thoughtfully delivered by friends Mary and Dave Sheely. Delicious Donuts might be the best, but Voodoo definitley won my sweet affections on this fateful day.Delicious Donuts, 12 Southeast Grand Avenue Portland, OR 97214-1112 - (503) 233-1833.

Voodoo Doughnut, 22 Southwest 3rd Avenue, Portland, OR 97204-2713, (503) 241-4704; online at voodoodoughnut.com.