Jul
29
Alright. Now that all this Simpsons business is over let’s get back to real, edible Donuts (but stay tuned, because I will be attempting to make Sumintra’s winning submission).
I either heard about Coffee An’ Donut Shop in a Times article or from Mother-in-Law-Blognut. I can’t remember which. But either way, a few weekends ago Mrs. B and I fueled up the Honda Civic Hatchback with 87 and headed to Westport, Connecticut to dine on Bill Clinton’s favorite Donuts.
Blognut: “I know it’s downtown somewhere. Let’s just park here.”
Mrs. B: “You always want to park prematurely. Let’s keep going til’ we see it.”
Blognut: “No. I’m sure it’s right up there by the street fair.”
Mrs. B: “Whatever.”
We walk through the entire street fair and find no Donut shops. Just lots of locals shopping at places like Tiffany and probably discussing sailboats. Then everything gets really residential and we walk some more.
Mrs. B: “You’re an idiot. The place closes in 15 minutes. Why do you always park prematurely?!”
Blognut: “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s right up here. Did you know Martha Stewart started out in Westport?”
Score! We show up just as Coffee An’ is closing. The place is devoid of customers, employees are washing things and the Donut racks have been cleared; save a tray of the day’s leftovers sitting on the counter. Soon I’m speaking with the owner George Vlandis who could be the nicest man I’ve ever met. He takes us into the kitchen and shows us around. “Every Donut is cut by hand,” he says, holding up two metal rings. Then on to the surprisingly small fryer – now cooling after a tiring morning’s work – which somehow handles the hundreds (if not thousands) of Donuts produced daily at Coffee An’. The thing sort of looks like a piece of rusty scrap metal left on a Norman beach after D-day but it gets the job done.
George then gives me the run down of all the celebs who’ve praised his shop, starting with Mr. Clinton. The former Pres has been in multiple times - which is saying a lot, because this is a man who clearly knows his way around junk food - and apparently told his cabinet that Coffee An’ had the “best Donuts in the world.” Other fans include Paul Newman, Al Gore and Joseph Lieberman, who’d been in just a few days before for breakfast. The shop walls are covered in photos documenting George’s famous encounters, including one of him and the Gores dining together at a black tie campaign dinner. George is like famous or something.
We spend about half an hour talking Donuts with our new friend and his daughter, who helps run the shop along with George’s son and brother. Then he kindly stuffs a big white box full of every Donut variety left and hands it to me as we leave. After a round of goodbyes and thank yous our feast begins.
On the walk back into town I take down a chocolate cake. Now Coffee An’s cake Donuts are not for the faint of heart. These are the sort of thickly fried, intimidating rings that leave you defeated and oily but in the moment are really the purest form of pleasure. The sort that would crush a Dunkin cake in a strongman competition and pummel a Krispy Kreme into bits and crumbs. The chocolate has an intense cocoa flavor and is as rich in color as brown can be without being black. If that makes sense.
Once back in town we stop in a deli. Mrs. B gets a sandwich and I eat another Donut. This time I go for a cinnamon coffee roll. It’s roughly the size of a soft-ball, made of light and spongy raised dough and generously riddled with thin veins of flavorful cinnamon. I wash it down with a fat half-sour pickle which sounds gross but is actually pretty good. I wait until back home in Brooklyn to polish off the rest.
Every Donut in the box is worthy of an entire Blognut post. The jelly-filled is made of the same spacious dough as the coffee roll, this time encasing a tart and gooey raspberry center. The cinnamon, like the chocolate, is made of hearty cake dough and coated in loads of spice while the equally cakey powdered sugar goes down smooth and with just enough sweet.
But the old fashioned is the deal. Most certainly the finest plain-cake I’ve laid teeth in to. Its lack of accessory brings out the subtleties of the rich dough. Hints of cinnamon. Maybe some nutmeg. And the perfect dunker - its thick physique soaking up nearly half my cup of Gimme.
Really my only disappointment is the fact that Coffee An’ was out of their signature model, the plain glazed. Which means I’ll be returning to Westport in the near future.
