So I know Entenmann’s Donuts aren’t actually good. But at the same time they’re also kind of awesome. And over the holidays I’ve been known to ingest an entire box of Pop’Ems at the Blognut-in-laws, savoring every last bit of artificial, over-preserved, only-sort-of-Donut-tasting deliciousness. Which is why I was happy to learn that this fall Entenmann’s has released a seasonal Cider Donut. And this bright orange box of pre-fabs is every bit as disgusting and satisfying as I would expect.

The cake itself lacks body and the faux-cinnamon-nutmeg spice has a chemical-like tingle which at times is almost like putting your tongue on the terminals of a battery. But there’s something about the layer of dehydrated glaze that ties the flavor together into this addictive and perfect feat of junk-food science – kind of like how once you start eating Doritos you can’t stop.

But this box of Ciders got me thinking about the rest of the Entenmann’s Donut catalogue. Plus all the other pre-packaged brands like Freihofers and those tube-shaped Hostess packs you buy at gas stations. So I really think it’s time to kick-off what hopefully will be an ongoing series on preservative-laden, corporate Donut creations wrapped in cardboards and plastics. I was always fond of the chocolate covered – you know, the ones with that brown plastic-like coating that can easily be peeled away from its cake interior as if two completely separate entities – but according to the little bit of research I’ve done everyone seems to think those are disgusting and that powdered sugar or cinnamon are the way to go. So if you’ve got any favorites you think I should try, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll see what I can find in the coming weeks at my local supermarkets, convenience stores, bodegas and Shell stations.

Before I return to Blognut’s Massachusetts Donut Tour, I must first drop my first ever “0″ Donut score. Typically one Donut is as low as I go. But I’m here creating a customized, sub-scale score of no Donuts to accomodate the worst Donut I’ve ever tasted: Entenmann’s BUBBLE GUM flavored Pop’ems.

And this has nothing to do with mass-marketing, artificial preservatives, or Entenmann’s. I actually love regular Pop’ems and have been known to eat entire boxes in one sitting. My contempt is instead directed at the globby, sticky bright pink sprinkles that have both the taste and consistency of cheap, over-sugared bubble gum.

I mean, these things are truly vile. I couldn’t even make it through one bite without having to wash my mouth out with ice water and Fresca for the next 15 minutes. And I was still tasting bubble gum flavor on my jog nearly two hours later. DISGUSTING!

Donut Score: No Donuts

You’d think an establishment proudly advertising a so-called “Donut Lounge” would at least make their own Donuts, right? Not the case. So you can understand my disappointment when this past weekend I stroll into Homer’s World Famous Maltshop on the Upper West Side only to be hit with this grave, paradigm-busting revelation.

Homer’s World Famous Malt Shop is an eclectic greasy spoon serving an array of comforting American fare. The place puts out a fun, quirky atmosphere highlighted by a series of customized cartoon characters resembling a cross between Aqua-teen Hunger Force and Fat Albert. There’s the Malt Shop, serving greasy meats to what seem like mostly families, the annexed Donkey Bar, the adults-only booze-serving section, and the highly-anticipated Donut Lounge. But while the plates of sliders and curly fries being shuffled around by the wait-staff look pretty outstanding, the only Donut presence in Homer’s a small rack in the corner housing a generic assortment of bland looking Donuts. There doesn’t appear to be any lounge what-so-ever – unless you count the malt-shop dining tables. I could call my local Dunkin Donuts a lounge too, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s conducive to lounging.

That said, the lady behind the counter is very nice and promptly takes my Donut order:

Blognut: “I’ll have a Glazed, a Chocolate Cake and a Bavarian Crème.”

Donut Lady: “You got it.”

Blognut: “So do you guys make your own Donuts?”

Donut Lady: “Nope, we get them shipped in. But they couldn’t be fresher.”

Blognut: “Wouldn’t they be fresher if you made them here?”

Donut Lady: “Well, maybe. But a lot of factors go into Donut making.”

I didn’t know what she meant by this. But I knew I was regretting having wasted 45 minutes on the subway getting to Homer’s.

Blognut: “Which bakery do you get them from?”

Donut Lady: “Not sure. Somewhere in Brooklyn I think…maybe Queens.”

Once outside, I bite into the Glazed. Bland, slightly-hard dough and dry flavorless glaze, this Donut fails to surpass even a two-day old Dunkin in flavor. It’s similar in taste and texture to the Glazed varieties available at the countless street carts strewn throughout this city, every morning filling up commuters on bad baked goods and worse coffee. The chocolate isn’t any better – dry, barely any cocoa kick, and covered in the same flaky glaze. Lastly, the Bavarian Crème is composed of the same lackluster dough as the Glazed, only this time stuffed with mediocre yellow crème and a sorry sprinkling of powdered sugar.

I hate to be so harsh on what appears to be a really cool spot in all other facets besides Donuts. But a place advertising a lounge devoted solely to the object of Blognut’s affection serving such sub-par cuisine needs to be called out on it. If only because they’ve got a great space and great atmosphere which shouldn’t go to waste. So Blognut would like to recommend that Homer’s immediately invest in a hefty dough mixer and a pot of boiling oil, and start experimenting with a homemade Homer’s Donut recipe. And perhaps a few couches to justify its lounge-y designation.

Homer’s World Famous Maltshop
487 Amsterdam Avenue (Cross Street: 83rd Street)
New York, NY

Donut Scores:

Glazed -

Chocolate Cake -

Bavarian Creme -

Perhaps the most exciting facet of the Pop-Nut Donut chain is their limited-edition seasonal and holiday offerings. And while Krispy Kreme certainly expresses the most creativity in temporally-relevant Donuts (see their shamrock-shaped St. Patty’s, heart-shaped V-day, and pumpkin-like Halloween frosted-varieties), I find Dunkin’s half-hearted attempt at seasonality far more amusing. As if simply taking their standard yeast-raised frosted and coating it with overly food-dyed ceremonious frosting colors and sprinkles for a few days actually tricks patrons into feeling festive. The fact that my “Christmas Donut” is drenched in red and green goo doesn’t make me forget that it’s half stale and owned by a group of money-grubbing equity firms with names like Bain Capital, The Carlyle Group and Thomas H. Lee Partners.

That said, this past Saturday, the moment that rack of radioactive green distracts me from my stroll down Lexington Avenue, my Irish spirit takes over and I soon find myself at the DD counter ordering their St. Patrick’s Day special. Essentially Dunkin’s newly-released Berry Berry Donut topped with bright green and pink frosting (not sure what pink has to do with St. Patty?) instead of strawberry candy crunch, this Emerald Donut is a big let down. Partly due to it’s lack of originality, but also to the fact that it got stuffed in a paper bag for 3 hours before being eaten and all the frosting came off. Flavor-wise, just think standard DD yeast dough filled with slightly artificial tasting raspberry jelly.

Just for fun I also purchase the actual Berry Berry which was far more pleasing, both in aesthetic and taste. The faux-jelly is accented by an even phonier tasting strawberry candy crunch, reminiscent of many KK Donuts-of-the-Month, which often come topped with gravel-y candy bits. It’s exactly what I look for in a Pop Donut – brightly-colored, sugary, and full of All-American artificially-flavored satisfaction.

Dear Blognut,

As an avid fan of the Blognot, I thought you’d like to hear about the infamous “Donas” of costa rica. After arriving in San Jose, Coast Rica after several delays I was quite hungry and had some time to kill before my flight to quepos. Outside the airport I noticed a food stand, and in the case stood the aforementioned Donas in all its apparent glory. However, I was very curious to see if expectation would be met, or if looks would be deceiving.

Upon glancing at the exterior of the Donas it looks very intriguing. It is very similar to something you might find at your local DD, but our usual chocolate icing had been replaced by a rather attractive “dolce de leche” type caramel glaze with a hint of chocolate. This seemed incredibly appealing! Upon cutting into the donas I was pleased to note its impressive interior structure. The air pockets seemed both appropriately placed and plentiful, and there appeared to be a slight glisten that hinted at the perfect moist interior.

But alas, we were fooled by this deceitful confection. With first bite it was apparent that the caramel icing was cloyingly over-sweet, the glisten was not moisture but un-emulsified fat and the donas was rather dry, albeit greasy.

Overall I would say the Donas was a big disappointment, and this doughnut nut will stick with his Krispy Kremes, thank you very much.

Kind regards,

Manuel Antonio

Edward Hopper’s 1927 oil-on-canvas Automat depicts a forlorn looking girl sipping coffee by herself in an automat, which, in case you didn’t know, is essentially a room full of coin-operated fast food vending machines. Hopper’s work is said to depict the urban alienation that occurs when once-social practices like going out for a bite become completely automatic, rendering human-to-human interaction unnecessary. While a plausible interpretation, Blognut has an alternate theory to explain the girl’s woes –simply that the automat she’s chosen doesn’t offer Donuts. Too bad us New Yorker’s can’t relate, because thanks to BAMN! we have automatic Donut access 24 hours a day.

BAMN! with icicles.

Founded by NYU Business School grad David Leong, and another guy named Nobu who writes Haikus, BAMN! opened just last year on St. Mark’s Place in the East Village. The place is a sort of homage to the classic Horn & Hardart automats which once pervaded our Northeastern cities. The first H & H opened in Philly in 1902 as a knock-off of the Quisiana Automat in Berlin , while the first NYC location popped up in 1912. By the 50s and 60s the automatic format was gradually snuffed out by America’s growing fascination with fast-food, cars and golden arches – and probably also something to do with the fact that inflation made buying food with coins a pain in the ass (automats were not equipped to accept paper money).

Automatic foods.

BAMN!’s fare is based in classic, over-processed American comfort food with an “Asian twist.” Sliders. Hot dogs. Pizza, Mac & cheese. PB & J croquettes. Hawaiian-inspired Spam sushi. Pork buns. And like I said, Donuts. (Oh yeah, and they’ve got Belgian frites with 39 different sauces too).

BAMN! Donuts.

BAMN! refers to their Donuts as “Japanese.” I assume this label stems from their resemblance to the classic ball of Okinawian fried dough, the Sata Andagi. But for us Westerners, all you really need to know is that they cost $1.00 American (like their ancestors, change only) and look and taste like zeppole. Basically just straight-foward, unflavored, yeast-raised dough covered in powdered sugar, BAMN!’s Donuts certainly don’t have much in the way a flavor. But having flavor isn’t the point, right? They’re instead meant to sponge up booze from the stomachs of East Village all-nighters, while providing the kitsch and nostalgia of automatic food retrieval, which they do wonderfully.

“Japanese” Donuts.

So if you’re in the market for a fast and super-cheap late-night sugar fix, but have absolutely no requirement that your Donuts actually taste good, then definitely hit up BAMN!. Otherwise, I’d stick with the more corporate all-night alternative.

BAMN!
37 St. Mark’s Place
East Village, NYC

BAMN! Donut Scores:

Flavor -

Practicality -

Donuts are everywhere in Vienna. And while they don’t suck nearly as bad as Parisian Donuts, they definitely failed to meet the minimum sugar level my all-American, sweet-seeking tongue requires of a Donut.

There are basically two types of Donuts in Vienna: there’s the traditionally-German/Austrian Krapfen, which 50% of the time taste like a 2-day old dinner roll, and there’s the second-rate ringed American knock0ffs. Now it’s this second category that really poses an ancestral paradox given that our red, white and blue holey Donuts are most certainly direct descendants of the bland, usually-jam-filled Donuts found all over Eastern Europe (including Austria). It seems the Euros have taken our sweeter, more processed version of their traditional fried dough, and created a completely unenjoyable knockoff of a knockoff. It’s really sort of incestuous.

But like I said, Austrian Donuts weren’t nearly as foul as those I had in Paris (far and away THE WORST DONUTS I’VE EVER HAD!). The key is to hit Vienna’s famed Christmas markets, most of which have at least one vendor peddling authentic Krapfen stuffed with either apricot or raspberry jam. When done right, they’re freshly fried in front of you and sprinkled with powdered sugar resulting in a hot, sticky mess of goodness. When they’ve sat out too long, you’ll most likely take one bite and drop the rest in an oddly-shaped and way-too-small-for-a-major-urban-center trash can. But I’ll let you see for yourself. Without further ado, here’s a rundown of all the Donuts Blognut encountered while in Vienna.

These were small Donuts….

fried right in front of my face by a surly Donut Man. Once cooked, he lifted six at once from the oil with a stick and dropped them into a small paper bag. He then grabbed an enormous bottle of chocolate sauce and let loose a hearty squirt atop the still steaming Donuts. Now while these tiny ringlets are meant to be eaten with a small wooden fork, this proved nearly impossible, as the liquidy chocolate quickly turned them into a soggy mound of goo. They tasted fine I guess, but I was a bit skeived out by the mushy consistency - I typically have a problem with gooey foods like bread pudding, or even regular pudding for that matter.

Oh, and here was the menu at the small Donut stand. Maybe lecker means really soggy.

I found this Krapfen stand at the Christmas market outside of city hall (Rathaus). The Donuts were freshly-fried and filled with either vanilla, chocolate or apricot upon request using a metal probe. The whole thing reminded me of all those anal probe scenes in alien movies.

Blond, Austrian Donut Lady getting ready to squirt my Krapfen full of apricot. This sounds perverse for some reason.

My Krapfen getting filled. This was by far the best Donut I had in Austria - soft, warm and stuffed with gooey apricot jam. The powdered sugar sprinkled on top melted into a clear glaze and masked the fact that the dough was probably completely devoid of sugar and tasted like bread.

Apricot Krapfen closeup.

Here’s a Krapfen shaped like a pretzel.

Another nearby stand was selling something called Bauernkropfn. They were akin to the Czech kolache in that they had their jam filling on top rather than inside.

Mine tasted like ass - if ass tastes like a really bad, stale dinner roll.

These were small Krapfen on sticks. The looked and tasted like your average zeppole, decent but uninspiring.

Later that day I stopped in McDonalds because I knew that McD’s in Europe serve Donuts. Which this one did. They were chocolate strudel Donuts but I didn’t eat one because they looked artificial and disgusting. And while this has never stopped me in the past, at this point in the trip my stomach was in knots from all the sausage and Weiner schnitzel.

Chocolate-filled Krapfen which I didn’t eat because all Krapfen started to taste the same. And also for the reason put forth in the previous caption.

Menu at stand with the chocolate-filled Krapfen which I didn’t eat.

Alright, like I said earlier, I stopped by McDonald’s to see what sort of Donut selection they had, but I didn’t eat any. Well it gets better. I scored this chocolate streusel at a Starbucks on the main drag of downtown Vienna. Yes, even the coffee capital of the world has 11 Starbucks! And see if you can guess what this bumpy little number tasted like? You got it, those mini chocolate frosted Donuts made by Hostess. An exact flavor replica. The majority of this one ended up in the trash can.

Starbucks was also selling this Donut. I won’t say anything about it because the name really says it all.

In keeping with my policy that international Donuts are unratable due to differential cultural expectations, I will not be assigning Donut Scores to any Viennese Donuts.

With the exception of one overly-gamey piece of chicken, just about everything we ate in Paris was aces. Fresh baguettes. Buttered almond croissants. Nutella crepes. All aces. So why are the Donuts so awful?! Seriously, we thought for sure the culinary center of the world, and the birthplace of the Beignet, would certainly fry up a top-notch Nut. Not so. Many of the Parisian Beignets and Donuts we encountered were nearly inedible and every one of them scores near the bottom of the Blognut 10-point scale. Maybe it’s that this overly-sophisticated food Mecca is inherently unable to successfully produce a food as simple as a Nut. In fact, I doubt most Parisians would even consider Donuts a worthy feed for their fattened geese, as even fois gras liver can’t detoxify something so vile. This said, France does have a rich, if cloudy, donut history.

The word “Beignet” comes from the early Celtic word “bigne,” meaning “to raise.” In France, it would later come to mean “fritter,” referring essentially to any clump of fried dough. Exactly when the Beignet arose in France is unclear, but what is known is that 18th century French colonists brought the recipe for so called “Beignet Fritters” to New Orleans, Louisiana, where they exploded with popularity and have since become associated with the city. Though there are numerous variations on the Beignet, the base recipe calls for deep-fried dough, usually sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar (like so many other International Nuts). Over the years, French culinary tradition has snubbed its fried creation and the modern day French beignet has become a sub-standard, recycled version of the 20th century American donut.

Without further ado, here’s a run down of all the crappy donuts I ate in Paris:

Beignet de Framboise (Raspberry-filled Beignet) - sitting in a large, empty glass display case were these two pathetic little donuts. They tasted like stale dinner rolls stuffed with cheap and sugary raspberry jelly.

Here’s a picture of me eating a disgusting Beignet de Framboise on the street and washing it down with a Kronenbourg. The only thing worse than a French Donut is a French Beer.

This donut sucked.

More sucky donuts. This time, they were actually called “Donuts.”

I’ve saved the worst for last. This is a Beignet au Miel, or Honey Beignet (pictured above), which we purchased in Montmarte as a pre-dinner snack. It weighed roughly two pounds and had the consistency of a hard, dried-up sponge. It tasted like burnt plastic with a slight honey aftertaste and was hands down the worst thing we ingested the entire trip. We took one bite and threw the rest in la poubelle.

This past weekend Blognut found himself in Princeton, New Jersey selling used CD’s to the Princeton Record Exchange and searching for New Jersey Nuts (not an NBA team). While unable to locate a single non-Dunkin Donut, I did manage to find a sorry little ring of unpleasantness at Ricky’s, Candy, Cones and Chaos.

The Wonka Candy Donutz borrows from a seldom encountered Donut-Phenomenon – the filled ring Donut. Though an innovative idea for a candy, Donutz doesn’t compare to even the foulest of actual donuts we’ve encountered, and certainly not to our favorite filled ring, the Doughnut Plant’s Elvis-inspired peanut butter glazed with banana cream filling .

Billed as a “mini milk chocolate Donut filled with a creamy chocolaty center and topped with candy sprinkles in assorted colors,” Donutz certainly sounds delicious in theory. In practice not so much. The “chocolate” exterior tastes like legos and the creamy center like buttery ammonia. I almost feel sorry for the candy sprinkles having to live atop such a vile taste. Now I must warn you that I am not the biggest candy eater in the world, calling into question the credibility of my assessment. If you feel as though Blognut has treated the Wonka Candy Donutz unfairly, then I ask you to go out buy one yourself (sold at most specialty candy stores) and offer up your own opinion. I am genuinely curious if a commercially successful candy can actually be this disgusting, or if my distaste is simply the result Blognut’s unschooled candy palate.

This past Saturday, Blognut had the pleasure of attending Verplanck, New York’s Italian Feast of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Essentially a county fair with more gold chains and no farm animals, the Feast brings together thousands of Italian Americans to ride Ferris wheels, carouse with friends and family, and drink Budweisers two at a time out of plastic cups. While we did find ourselves enjoying all that the Feast had to offer ($15 and 8 out of 9 popped balloons won us a stuffed, yellow cat made out of a radioactive plastic material), our true intentions were clear – we must find a zeppola (plural: zeppole).

Wikipedia defines Zeppole (also called St. Joseph’s Day Cakes) as “a form of light, deep-fried doughnuts in Neapolitan Italian cuisine – slightly larger than doughnut holes, and topped with powdered sugar or filled with custard, jelly, or cannoli filling, traditionally served on St. Joseph’s Day (March 19). Blognut defines zeppole as “fried balls of dough.”