Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Doughnuts


Who the hell doesn't like doughnuts? I know there are those out there who prefer the dramatic cinnamon roll or would skip breakfast sweets altogether in favor of savory eggs or a nice congealed meatstuff, but all those people are clearly insane. And communists.


The doughnut is shrouded in mystery. Well, not really. Although food historians are not positive on its origins, I'd like to think it came from the European innovators of baked goods, the Dutch. They gave us pie and fritters and all that, but when some sly baker in the mid-nineteenth century poked a hole in the middle so the dough would cook more thoroughly, he stumbled onto greatness. It would soon kick the sorry ass of rolls, scones, bagels and biscuits in any brawl in any flour-lined dark alley from here to North Carolina.


Why mention the Tarheel State? That is where the finest doughnut franchise was created. Krispy Kreme makes the single finest doughnut available to Americans in a mass-market. I'm sure there are some enterprising young bakers out there that could argue, but I don't know where they are. And, I would ask these pastry punks: "Do you hand out warm, free samples to people waiting in line?"


Hell no, they don't!


The original glazed doughnut is soft and sweet and does everything a good doughnut should. They pair up with either hot coffee or cold milk and the breakfast bread goes down smooth. Sometimes it sticks to the roof of your mouth like the first scoop of peanut butter.


I personally prefer to spell doughnut with the "ugh". Krispy Kreme misspells everything in its name except its product. Dunkin Donuts bats .1000. There is something satisfying about the word itself. It has the 'dough' up front. That word seems to be from another age, when mothers used to cook for their children. It's folksy; you can only find it inside the cooking world anymore.


Doughnuts are also friends to singles and tweakers and club kids and drunks and people on the fringes, especially here in Portland. Be sure to visit Voodoo Doughnuts if you're in town. I suggest leaving the kids in the car. The doughnuts are very tasty but the "Triple Chocolate Penetration" and the "Butter Fingering" selections may give you a clue that it's not your normal mom and pop doughnut shop. It's a little f@#!*d up, actually.


Why are these delights in a box so special to me? Simply that. I keep them special. I don't have them very often. I could have doughnuts all the time. I live in America and I could shovel them hand over fist in my fat face, like Homer Simpson's hellish room of Ironic Punishment. Whenever I go out of my to buy them, it is a surprise to everyone. It’s also a surprise that everyone enjoys. Even the grumpiest bastard in the family or the oldest, crustiest curmudgeon in the office likes some type of doughnut. It’s a cheap way to make nice and great way to get people to leave you alone for awhile. A hermit's dream.


Powdered. Chocolate. Cream filled. Jelly. Who cares? If you can't enjoy a goddamned doughnut I don't know how to make you happy.

1 comment:

  1. Damn, I miss Voodoo. Since we lived only about 15 blocks from there it was a frequent stop... and you didn't even mention the most x-rated one. That giant one they have, if you can eat it in under, like, 10 minutes it's free. Which Keith hilariously pointed out, either way you lose: if you don't eat it, you have to pay; if you do eat it, you wolfed it down and didn't even enjoy it.

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