Dashing out of bed on a weekend morning almost never happens. Only truly important things can make me want to unwrap myself from my comforter cocoon.
I had set my sights on dough doughnuts since my first visit to Bed-Stuy--apartment hunting--and this weekend became my target. So, getting out of bed was surprisingly easy. And instead of lumbering around the apartment mechanically getting ready, I dressed with agility and practically skipped down the sunny avenue toward Dough.
Good job, self. So worth it.
The smell of fresh baked goods hit me, and the line out the door didn't matter anymore.
As I was bringing home a half dozen for my roommates and friends, I knew I would need something to tide myself over. I bit into the Nutella stuffed mini-doughnut, and the pocket of Nutella burst into my mouth. Not too sugary, perfectly fresh, and squishibly soft, this mini-treat was a happy indicator of the joys to come.
Dough doughnuts fill you. One doughnut is bigger, heavier, and more generously topped than any mainstream doughnut I've seen on the market. As you sink your teeth in, the dough scrunches down from top to bottom before slowly rising back up again (unlike a Krispy Kreme, which is so airy it never rebounds; and unlike a Dunkin, which is often too stale to have any give in the first bite).
I ordered the salted chocolate caramel. This chocolate layer coated the doughnut in a fine layer of rich cocoa--it didn't lay lifeless and stiff like an icing, or plastered to the bread like a glaze. The Toasted Coconut and Sugar doughnuts each lived up to high standards, too.
Dunkin Donuts has bastardized the doughnut, twisting Americans' perception of what one should taste, look, and smell like. It brings me hope that little shops like Dough are popping up to correct the wrong.
**Side Note--My roommate brought home a custard stuffed Jolly Doughnut from Sandusky, Ohio not too long ago. After a cross-country commute to the Big Apple, it arrived smushed and disfigured. This doughnut was dense and heavy as a brick. It was also the best doughnut I've eaten to date.
As I was bringing home a half dozen for my roommates and friends, I knew I would need something to tide myself over. I bit into the Nutella stuffed mini-doughnut, and the pocket of Nutella burst into my mouth. Not too sugary, perfectly fresh, and squishibly soft, this mini-treat was a happy indicator of the joys to come.
Dough doughnuts fill you. One doughnut is bigger, heavier, and more generously topped than any mainstream doughnut I've seen on the market. As you sink your teeth in, the dough scrunches down from top to bottom before slowly rising back up again (unlike a Krispy Kreme, which is so airy it never rebounds; and unlike a Dunkin, which is often too stale to have any give in the first bite).
I ordered the salted chocolate caramel. This chocolate layer coated the doughnut in a fine layer of rich cocoa--it didn't lay lifeless and stiff like an icing, or plastered to the bread like a glaze. The Toasted Coconut and Sugar doughnuts each lived up to high standards, too.
Dunkin Donuts has bastardized the doughnut, twisting Americans' perception of what one should taste, look, and smell like. It brings me hope that little shops like Dough are popping up to correct the wrong.
**Side Note--My roommate brought home a custard stuffed Jolly Doughnut from Sandusky, Ohio not too long ago. After a cross-country commute to the Big Apple, it arrived smushed and disfigured. This doughnut was dense and heavy as a brick. It was also the best doughnut I've eaten to date.
You made my mouth water for donuts!!!!
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