Glazed and Confused

A foodie traveling the world, one donut shop at a time.

[donutstopeatingpdx]

Cinnamon Biscuits with Honey Butter

Cinnamon Biscuits are lightly sweetened biscuits infused with cinnamon flavor and topped with a light crust of cinnamon and sugar sweet honey butter.

For next week’s trick...

[donutstopeatingpdx]

Twister.

What a weekend. I wish you all could know the first-world-but-very-real struggles I’ve just endured for you. Well I mean, it’s kinda for me too, but it’s mostly just so I can show off for you.

I’m of course talking about my attempt to make   donuts     Natalie Portman fall in love with me  croissants. Some might believe this to be a simple task, but I can assure you that despite its [relative] simplicity, impeccable accuracy doing said simplicity is key to having any kind of success. It’s not like making regular bread; you need to form a pastry that is buttery, light, and above all, flaky. I’m talking like, “college BFF / sorority big” flaky.

“Lol she really think I’m bouta go to this party with her tho...I can’t WAIT to cancel these plans.”

This is not an easy task. It’s a four-quarter game, and there are a lot of steps that need to happen correctly for this to work, which means there’s plenty of room for error. Only through patience, meticulous deal and proper execution can you impress your friends at the next dinner party. (And some posh table wine would probably help too.)

The first step is doing the proper prep work: having a chilled butter-flour block to work with, and having a good dough made with the proper kind of flour (side note: if your roommates tell you that the brown flour is all-purpose even though you’re pretty sure it’s wheat flour, you’re probably right).

The second step is keeping your ingredients cold as you work with them, which means having the restraint to stop working if they get too warm and put them back in the refrigerator for a half-hour or so. You’ll be ill-pressed to rush the process of making croissants. This is not a “hmm, maybe I’ll make this today” sort of thing...more like a “hmm, maybe I’ll make this a decade from now” sort of thing.

Me at age 11, planning to make croissants seventeen years later.

Oh, and you’re probably gonna want to start climbing. You’ll need the kind of forearm muscles that only climbing can give you, because there will be a lot of folding & rolling dough. Practicing some minor surgery won’t hurt either - that way you can measure precisely and handle a small knife easily to cut loose edges. Forming nice rectangles is a theme to working with croissant dough.

If you make it through the second-quarter madness of single turns and chilling dough repeatedly, then you get a 4-hour halftime break of letting the dough settle in the fridge. Get a good nap in, because the next part is gonna get serious. Some brief calisthenics after the nap wouldn’t hurt either.

Now THOSE are the calves of someone who’s ready to make a good puff pastry.

The shaping of the croissants is the denouement of this saga. It will take the average person quite some time to cut and roll them, but apparently there are people that can make them so fast that Gordon Ramsay can’t even keep up. Honestly, what sort of hope does that leave us mere mortals? Not much, but you can try. And honestly, the shape isn’t your main concern - it’s the texture - so just give it the ole college try. Remember that you’re on a clock - this dough is best worked with cold - not cool, but cold. I’m talking “ex-girlfriend” cold.

You asked for it.

Now comes the final act. Cover your creations with a towel, and watch them make like the Dark Knight and rise. After about 90 minutes, you’ll want to preheat the oven...but don’t you DARE put them in yet. You’re forgetting arguably the most important step to ensuring your texture is spot on.

THE EGG WARSH

A quick glaze of egg wash is key to making sure the top of your croissants brown and easily flake off the top. If you knew this already, good for you, but I don’t give extra credit for being a know-it-all.

Now, you get to see if all your hard work paid off...in exactly 20-25 minutes at 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

If you are successful, this is what you will see:

If I am successful, this is what I will see:

Rather, WHO I will see.

My first attempt at making these bad boys was a solid effort. I followed the recipe as best as I could, but I ultimately used the wrong type of flour (cough cough roommates), and was also not ready for the challenge of whole wheat croissants...not to mention, what kind of psycho actually wants whole wheat croissants? Despite knowing about this mistake halfway through, I decided to see it through to the end, baking [and even eating] them.

Though this ship was ultimately doomed to sink, it was a beautiful one.

As you can see in the image above, my croissants actually looked pretty good. But after baking, they did not hold their shape, and the center was underdone while the outside was overdone. And although they tasted alright, they were quite dense. Some of this could be attributed to the flour, but I bet a lot of it was just my general inexperience. But, I am working on a second batch as we speak, which will hopefully yield Instagram-worthy results.

Only by fitting the mold may I break it.

All in all, for a first official attempt at baking, this was a pretty tough technical challenge. I’ve learned that croissants are very under-appreciated, and are an intense time investment that need the utmost attention to pull off. I had a good time making them, and suffered a great first failure which allowed me to learn quickly and give me the motivation to try again.

The best part of all this? If I plan things far enough ahead in time, I can drop this line at the end of a third date:

“I can drive you home now if you’re ready. But before we go, I thought you should know: in the morning, I’m making croissants...

...from scratch.”

“...Did you say ‘from scratch?’ ”

A little planning goes a long way.

[browsethestacks]

Spider-Man: Origins via Machine Learning AI

Interpretation by Keaton Patti, Dan Hipp And Joe Caramagna

[donutstopeatingpdx]

lololol

[everybody-loves-to-eat]

(source)

[donutstopeatingpdx]

wow, that looks awesome!

[everybody-loves-to-eat]

(source)

[donutstopeatingpdx]

DEAD

[feastuponthis]

[donutstopeatingpdx]

oh my GOD

[donutstopeatingpdx]

Good Food Hunting.

*pours the rest of the table wine*

You know what I’ve been doing lately? I’ve been watching a lot of food television. I’ve always been obsessed with food (clearly), but the thing that’s different about me this time around is a huge interest in my typical arch-rival of food skills: baking.

We meet again, my old nemesis.

Baking has always been my weakness for several reasons. It’s much more science-based than cooking, so if you mess up, you really mess up. Also, if you mess up, there’s no real correcting it like in cooking; if a dish is too salty or sweet or whatever, you can almost always fix it, but if a cake doesn’t bake correctly or a bread doesn’t rise, you’re screwed. Not to mention it’s usually so much work. These thoughts, combined with a few failed experiments in baking, have usually kept me away from the discipline.

But this past week, I was proselytized...and now, I have found my new church.

My new church, mid-service. Like my old church, they do a lot of standing.

THE GREAT BRITISH BAKE OFF.

Along with Los Espookys and Claws, it is currently everything I love about modern television. I’m a long-time lover of shows like MasterChef, but this show is like MasterChef with none of the competitive edge, all of the British charm, and so much politeness it almost makes me feel sick sometimes, which is saying something. On the show, it’s very rare you won’t see everyone smiling or laughing, even with the stress of insane baking challenges looming over the competitor’s heads. The music always sounds like a forest sequence from “Snow White.” The judges are so much nicer to the competitors, though their scale seems to be relative, so the things they consider to be ‘mean’ and ‘hurtful’ would make us go ‘lolwut?’ AND, when only one person wins those challenges, the other competitors congratulate them, and (get this), they mean it. Why is their attitude so different? The stakes are the same as in all cooking shows - losers are eliminated every week, and only one champion can be crowned per season. It’s mind-boggling to see how nice these cooks are to each other, especially seeing how serious things can be on a show like MasterChef. It almost doesn’t seem real.

Just look at ‘em, helping each other...wiping each other’s faces. What IS this??

That level of friendliness and happiness inspired me to take a second look at baking. Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time. Maybe - just maybe - there is a way to have the same amount of enjoyment result from baking that results from cooking. I suppose there’s only one way to find out...which is why I’ve decided to start trying. In a similar fashion to my old “Dish of the Week” tradition from college, I’m going to try to learn new baking dishes, techniques and principles at a slow-but-steady rate. It’s not going to be nearly as pretty as my cooking attempts, but I can assure you, there will be an equal amount of frustration.

And hopefully, at least one Snow White forest sequence.

[donutstopeatingpdx]

I did an audio review of Pip’s as well! (Devin Dabney)

[donutstopeatingpdx]

Some Like It Hot.

*cracks open another can of beer*

In lieu of limiting my donut intake for survival’s sake, it’s been difficult for me to keep pace with the recommendations I receive from friends and fellow foodies online. I’ve been visiting backlogged recommendations for quite some time since I started this blog, and honestly, I sometimes feel like I don’t get a full enough sample of everything to make an informed judgement. I was recommended a particular Portland donut shop about a week ago by a trusted source...he insisted it was essential - no, imperative that I visit this place as soon as possible. He didn’t say it with those words exactly, but I had a feeling that it was going to be someplace special...and because of my recent thought about lacking variety in my sampling, the one thing on my mind was making sure that this time I tried to have as many different donuts as I could - even if it meant buying a dozen and just taking a bite out of each. It would give me the feels in a bad way, but I want to be a credible source for y’all, you know?

I had a plan of attack for visiting this new place, and I made a point of doing no prior research before visiting it so my expectations would not be influenced in any way. Finally, a morning came where I had time to drive to Portland and spend a chill morning eating my favorite sweet, and when I pulled up to the destination, it was a glorious sight indeed.

BEHOLD

Pip’s Original Doughnuts & Chai 

I’m willing to let the spelling of ‘donuts’ slide.

Turns out, this is the first made-to-order donut shop that I’ve visited in the Portland metro area, and if you know anything about me, you know that I love made-to-order donut shops, and have raved about them time and time again...so off top, this was set up to be a good experience. Walking in, I was immediately intrigued by the interior; it was a tastefully kitsch sort of vibe, with eclectic decorations that combined a sense of modernism with a rustic disposition, including hanging lights, glowing signs, hand-drawn menus and antique-looking cans & the like scattered throughout. There was a sense of old-meets-new, along with a sense of eccentric abundance...and to me, that’s what donuts basically represent - tasteful, timeless abundance. A little hoity-toity of me, but I appreciated the vibe nonetheless.

I’m not sure if I should call my friends to come meet me here or call Marie Kondo. Or both.

At 9AM, this place had about a dozen people in it, and could realistically hold maybe three dozen at a time. I saw a display shelf of branded merchandise near the counter - T-shirts, hats and the like. However, I didn’t see a display case of donuts, and was compelled to ask how I might order them. I was kindly told that they were made-to-order cake donuts (#yasss), and that they kept a rotating list of flavors - some of which were constant, and others seasonal. They also told me that they were bite-sized, so I could order all of their flavors at once - hell yeah! The Donut Gods had heard my prayer, then responded immediately. 

Now I just need to work on the “marry Natalie Portman” prayer I’ve been saying for the last 20 years.

With those guidelines, what else was there to do but order everything?

And order everything, I did.

In just a few minutes, I heard my name called over a PA system (didn’t expect that, haha), and then I had my americano coffee & eight hot small donuts, which was the equivalent of about two normal-sized donuts. The taste was awesome, as was the texture...I think the real bangers they had were the raspberry jam filled one and the delectable candied maple bacon jam (WHOO). I got the whole array of flavors they had in stock, and when it was all said and done, I didn’t spend a whole lot of money getting them. The best part about all of this? I tried everything they had, didn’t waste any food, and could have EASILY eaten more. Of course I’m a little biased when it comes to this, but I really appreciated being able to have everything they offered so easily, especially when it was all made fresh. (Side note: if anyone knows of a place that makes made-to-order yeast donuts, PLEASE let me know. I still have yet to find one.)

It was everything I had in me to not order another eight donuts from them, but rest assured, I will be back to this place very soon; I didn’t even get to dip into their chai game, which is reportedly off the charts as well. I’ve got some other places to sample, but so far, this has been my favorite donut place in Portland, and one of my top ten places out of the 60 I’ve been to across the world. In short, you gotta go check it out!

Your stomach, wallet and affinity for hodge podge aesthetics will thank you.

[cravefoodie]

[fullcravings]

Easy Blueberry Bread with Lemon Glaze

[donutstopeatingpdx]

Eatin’ in the Rain 2: I Can’t Stand the Rain.

Truthfully, I just wanted to use this GIF again.

*cracks open a can of beer*

My journey through the donut-scape of Portland has continued, and with some sweet results. My Oregonian friends have caught onto the fact that I have a serious penchant for donuts, so I’ve been getting recommendations like crazy - so much that I’ve had to limit how many times I visit a new place in a week! Sadly, I can’t eat them fast enough - well, I could, but there would just be consequences.

Heavy consequences.

Just outside of downtown Portland is Beaverton - a sleepy, whitewashed suburbia that is home to the tens of thousands of Nike employees (their world headquarters is in Beaverton), plus other Oregonians that want to be close to Portland without Portland’s prices. Surprisingly, this town boasts a gastronomic experience that is arguably worth its own tour; I’ve found excellent beer, fried chicken, Mexican food, and much more in just my short few months of exploring the area. And of course, what would a food tour be without including Scarlett Johansson donuts in on the adventure?

Only kidding, Scar Jo - you’re obviously welcome. Just give me a call if you wanna tag along. Or just give me a call. Please call me.

In Beaverton, I’ve found two new donut places that I can see myself frequenting quite often: Every Day is a Donut Day and Donuts Plus. The former was mostly cleaned out by 8AM when I first visited, which is always an excellent sign for an old-school style donut shop...and even then, the things I had were various styles of sweet, decadent and light. My second visit was pre-6AM, which yielded much better results in options, and the freshness factor only multiplied how good it all was. They’ve none of the fancy Portlandian frills, but honestly, they don’t need them - especially when they’ve got creative minds like me reviewing them.

Two extraordinary flavors in their own rite. But to combine their powers...

Donuts Plus is a shop neatly tucked into a small strip mall, with incredibly sweet, unique donuts...I had to pace myself to ward off the ‘beetus, but it was worth the pacing to have their nice combinations of fruit-flavored cake donuts and thick cane-sugar coatings. Not to mention, this place had a clean look and a very friendly staff - he even threw in a fourth donut for free! Not that I needed a fourth, but who are you to judge me?

There are others to review in the area, but I’m getting the sense that in Beaverton’s donut-sphere, things are a little less bark and a little more bite, meaning that it’s not so much about making the place look chic or the branding game to be off the charts, but more about making good old-fashioned donuts. I think this idea is easily lost in the modern times of seeking widespread acclaim, viral word-of-mouth and social media pizazz...and honestly, it’s kind of a shame that some of these places don’t get as much recognition simply because they don’t have an online presence or a crazy brand. But hey, that’s the world we live in, I guess. Besides, that means more donuts from these places are left for me to eat.

GET IN MY BELLY

This is still only the beginning of a long saga of donut-eating in my new home. I’ve a couple more places to visit in the next few weeks - some in Portland, some in Beaverton - and my list of donut shops only continues to grow (I’ve officially gone to 60 places across the world now!). My hope is to hit 100 by the end of 2020 - do y’all think that might be possible? I guess the better question would be “do you think that’s possible without me gaining 100 pounds?”

Guess there’s only one way to find out, right?

[fullcravings]

Chocolate Chip Caramel Bars

[donutstopeatingpdx]

Seven Donuts.

I have a small story for you.

A few days ago, I went to Coco Donuts for breakfast (as I tend to do). As always, I ordered one cake donut, one yeast donut, realized I didn’t order an old-fashioned, contemplated if I really needed to get three donuts this time, then ordered the old-fashioned. So, three donuts total...but I swear, THAT’S the last time I’m doing it. Besides, I was celebrating the surprisingly-cheap repair of my Jeep, a beautiful machine that I’ve put 100,000+ miles on over the last 5 years traveling the country...she’s held up well, but she’s getting to be an old broad, and she can be cranky at times. Anyway, I was celebrating this small victory with some donuts (as I tend to do), and once I placed my order and got to the counter, I pulled out my wallet...

...and I couldn’t find my card.

Me, contemplating running off with the bag anyway.

At this point, I’m thinking, “come on Devin, how could you lose your card? You hardly ever use it - you NEVER have money! What could you have possibly pulled out your card for - ”

“...the MECHANIC. He never gave me my card back!”

Amidst this Tuco-Style freakout, I barely noticed the green pieces of paper in my wallet: dollar bills - ancient relics of the past. Hoping that the cashier was too dumb to realize that cash was obsolete, I handed him the cotton bills with trembling hands...and he ACCEPTS them. He even gave me some weird metal coins in exchange for them! He must have been super stoked to find these bills - maybe they’re collector’s items now.

Back in the donut game, baby!

Once I was done celebrating like the above GIF, I put my coat back over my wrestling singlet and called the mechanic to inquire about his spoons the whereabouts of my card, to which he immediately realized that he had accidentally taken it, and proceeded to drive back to me.

So I waited outside, and promptly enjoyed my donuts.

For those of you thinking “pics or it didn’t happen.”

Once I finished my donuts, I was compelled back inside by a person on the street shouting out obscenities as he shuffled along the sidewalk (I wasn’t in a fighting mood today, as I tend to not be). I felt super awkward sitting inside the shop without anything to eat, but I didn’t have any money to buy more donuts, and I was out of green bills to trade to the eccentric cashier antique collector...but I had to stay there and wait for the mechanic to show up. So I found a barstool, and I sat there awkwardly - a black man in a donut shop with no donuts, who is painfully self-aware of what being inside a shop without buying anything can get you as a black man.

The tension in my head rises, until a voice behind the counter startles me.

“Hey man, do you want some donuts?”

I turn around to see a new cashier - not Pawn Stars Cashier, but another unassuming white Portlandian male, complete with tattoos and a sunny disposition.

Honestly, this isn’t too far off. There’s even the classic Portland rainy weather.

I finally muster the courage to respond. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I made too many donuts - you want some of them? I’ll just give ‘em to you.”

Has that phrase ever been uttered in history before? ‘Too many donuts?’ ‘You WANT some??’ ‘I’LL JUST GIVE ‘EM TO YOU?’

I take a second before replying with a laugh, “uhh, YEAH, I would definitely love some. Thanks a lot, man.” Then he gave me a half-dozen donuts. He even let me pick out which ones I wanted.

I gotta tell ya, white people, y’all are so confusing sometimes. I don’t know whether to be scared of you or scared FOR you. But I appreciate your gesture, Portlandian Man #2 - genuinely, I do. But now, another problem arises:

“How many donuts could I eat in a day before I die a horrible death?”

Though I’d like to know the answer to that, I decided it best to share them with my friends at work. So I drive to work with a half-dozen donuts, and when I get there, I break the news to my coworkers: “Guys, the cashier at Coco Donuts just gave me donuts when I left! There’s five in here if you want some.”

They thank me for the gesture, but unlike me, my coworkers at Nike are something they like to call “healthy,” which is basically a way of saying “experts at nihilistic denial of happiness.” They don’t eat donuts, because even one little bite is enough to mar their rippling washboard abs.

Come on bro, can you at least wear your name tag to work? It’s REQUIRED.

So can you blame me if my sudden onset of shame compelled me to eat another donut? No? Good, because I had TWO more. Now at six donuts for the day’s count, I notice that two more of the donuts were gone...I’m guessing the rest of the people on campus must have split them 15,000 ways so everybody could eat them guilt-free. But there was still one donut left in that pink box, just staring.

“Go on, Devin - do it...what’s 400+ more calories at this point?”

Though my stomach was adamant that I shouldn’t, my stomach isn’t what calls me to eat donuts in the first place, so its vote was overruled. So I go for it -

“I found someone who wants the last piece of pie in the fridge donut!”

My coworker whisked it away just before I could play out a scenario that likely would have ended poorly...and yet, I was somehow still disappointed. But, on a positive note, I think I know roughly how many donuts it would take to kill me.

Now I just gotta wait for another anxiety-induced breakdown to find out for sure.

[donutstopeatingpdx]

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Carb.

*cracks open a bottle of beer*

It’s not an easy path - being in love with Emma Watson donuts. This is something I’ve considered quite a bit as my obsession has entered the “blog about it” stage, and increasingly often I hear the same concerns from my loved ones. 

“Aren’t you worried about burning out on them?” 

“That much sugar & fat can’t be healthy for you.” 

“How can you eat so much food like that and not be 300 pounds by now?”

Well, in that order, “yes,” “ah DUH,” and “who says I’m not 300 pounds? Weight is just a number, Sharon - please get out my business.”

Sharon STAYS talking crazy to me about my life. Worry about you, boo-boo.

To be honest, though I have concerns about burning out on donuts, I’m not really that worried. I’d have to eat them literally every day to get sick of them, and even then there’s so much variety in shops and flavors at each shop that I just don’t think I could. But that concern is an easy one to dismiss...what’s not so easy to dismiss is the health concerns, which are more objective. I think that part of my resistance to death by donuts is due to my age, but also that I am constantly moving, climbing, or ‘working out’ in some capacity, which helps. But what if my active lifestyle were suddenly taken away from me, and I were forced to consider the reality that my favorite food might be killing me?

WOAH, KENNY

I think it goes without saying that eating donuts all the time isn’t healthy. I know it isn’t. And if I want a clean bill of health, I certainly shouldn’t indulge. But at the end of the day, what is that worth to me - honestly? When I’m on my deathbed, am I gonna be fondly reminiscing on how healthy my time on Earth was? And at my funeral, is someone going to be delivering a tear-filled eulogy about what a healthy life I led?

“Here lies Devin: his triglycerides never exceeded 150 mg/dL.”

I believe that balance is the key to a great life. A life worth living to me involves happy & sad moments, good & bad choices, and healthy & unhealthy foods. No, I shouldn’t eat donuts every day, but if I eat kale every day, what kind of life is that? It’s not my place to judge others, but I know that’s not the life for me - I need to have a spectrum of experiences. I also just kinda wanna, you know, enjoy my life, cause life is supposed to be dope. I’m supposed to do dope stuff.

Despite knowing all this, for years I struggled with an endless cycle of guilt, punishment and compulsion when it came to eating any unhealthy food - donuts or otherwise. I would eat the unhealthy food of choice, then resort to either starving myself or constantly telling myself this is why I’ll never look like Will Smith in “I Am Legend”...then I’d try not to cry, cry a lot, and withhold myself from any enjoyable food until I ultimately binge the next chance I get. 

Then the cycle continues.

I get that I’m probably more sensitive than most, but I know that I can’t be the only person who feels guilt for enjoying something that is unhealthy for me. And when you think about it, isn’t that kind of a weird association - guilt with pleasure? Not to mention walling off something that makes me happy never really made sense either. Sure, there’s a bit of middle ground with dieting, but diets never made sense to me. I always believed in finding a way of eating that would become an actual habit, otherwise I might as well repeat the Cycle of Pain I’ve already developed - one proven through years of scientific reasoning.

If my hypothesis is correct, eating funnel cake should induce exponentially higher grief than french fries, due to the multiplicative factor of S (sugar) against the constant f (fat). But to eat them both...now THAT’S worth testing.

Guilt is tough to beat - tough, but not impossible. I think that, ironically enough, the way I learned to stop worrying about what I eat was through something unrelated to food. I was at a routesetting clinic in Minneapolis that was being taught by Tonde Katiyo, one of my biggest role models. Routesetting - the profession of creating rock climbing situations in a controlled indoor environment - is a trade of craftsmanship, combining artistic interpretation with the desire to serve other climbers...but Tonde posed an interesting idea about what we ‘serve’ to our climbers: it doesn’t always have to make them happy.

He argues that for a climber to have a truly enjoyable experience overall, they need to feel a variety of emotions. Granted, his argument is the inverse of mine (he thinks routesetters give their climbers TOO many “donuts” in the sense of climbing experiences), but the idea is the same. People often focus on absolutes in life - you’re either healthy or unhealthy, fat or skinny, black or white, Yanny or Laurel - but I don’t really think life works that way. I think it’s an infinite series of shades, and it’s all about finding what shade allows you to live your best version of life...and maybe that version IS you eating yourself into an early grave. I can’t say for certain - only you can. And only I can say for certain what health I am willing to sacrifice for the immediate enjoyment of greasy, sugary food. I can make my own choices for my own life, and that’s okay. 

Another interesting argument Tonde made during the clinic I attended was that in routesetting, there are no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ things you can do - there’s just choices, and consequences for those choices. If you set a dangerous route that kills anyone who climbs it, that’s a choice...and dead climbers is the consequence of that choice. Most gyms aren’t willing to make that choice, because they don’t want that consequence.

...or do they?

Life is but a series of choices and consequences. I choose to eat donuts more than the average bear, but less than the average addict. The consequence? I live a dope-ass life. And that, my friends, is a consequence I’m willing to bear.

[everybody-loves-to-eat]

(source)

[fullcravings]

Fire Cracker Funfetti Cupcakes