So after many, many years of eating them, I finally learned how to make real doughnuts. I’m not talking about those ones you buy the pan for, and fill like cupcakes – that’s not a doughnut – it’s a cupcake with a hole in it. I am by no means saying I would not eat a cupcake with a hole in it, but don’t try to pretend it’s a doughnut because it just ain’t gonna be, no matter how you dress it up. And calling it a “cake doughnut” is NOT going to fool anyone. You cheated, plain and simple. A fish is a fish is a fish, and it rots at the head. Or something.
Anyway, I made real doughnuts – with real dough that had to ferment and rise, and be shaped, and then boiled in oil, and either coated or filled. Now because of my aversion toward waste, particularly regarding food (I took a giant bag of pasta home from my class not because it was awesome, but because they were about to throw it in the garbage and I needed to “save” it), I also made sure to cook the “holes” (which are more commonly known under the moniker of “munchkins” and popularized by Dunkin’ Donuts). And I came to realize something – I actually prefer the holes! They are the epitome of a Small Indulgence. You can make many, top them, even fill them with a variety of sugars, jellies, sauces, chocolates…whater your little taste buds desire. And, instead of committing to one giant doughnut, and then feeling eater’s remorse and wish you had chosen more wisely, or even worse, going for doughnut #2, you can eat 4 or 5 holes, and experience a plethora of taste sensations, without making yourself sick, or picking pieces off of all the larger doughnuts like a low-life. “Doughnut Pickers” have no place in confectionery society and should be punished accordingly, by being forced to eat those cupcakes with a hole in them while being told repeatedly they are being fed doughnuts.
PS: you may be wondering why there are no pictures of doughnut holes, after I spent the entire post endorsing their minute delicious existence. Well, truth be told – I ate all the holes before remembering to photograph them. Sorry. At least I’m not a picker.