Good Ol' Fashioned The (Donut Pub)

Oh shit, it is October already. It has been forevertown since I last posted, but fret not sweater-monkeys, this second-rate food poet has returned. Today, I will tell you a tale about a friend of mine. Some people are addicted to alcohol, some people are addicted to drugs, some people are addicted to sniffing markers back in grade school when they had cherry scented white erase ones (oh lord the cherry ones were the best). My friend Tia, she is addicted to DP... by which I mean doughnuts... from Donut Pub. Being addicted to doughnuts is not so different from the other three - the debilitating reliance upon a substance to give you that thrill of 'feeling alive,' the constant reminder about how long it's been since the last time you used, and the withdrawal you go through when it's not there. It's all really the same. Now this post isn't me being judgmental of my friend's choices, actually the opposite, the first step to recovery is to admit that you yourself have a problem - well here it is: I too am addicted to DP. By which I mean Donut Pub.

I've been in CA for the past week - it has been eight days since I last used, and I am currently in withdrawal, feelbadman.jpg. You're probably wondering - "Why don't you just go to Dunkin' Donuts or something and eat some doughnuts?" With all due respect, eat a bag of dicks. How dare you compare Dunkin' Donuts, Tim Horton's, or any other chain doughnut restaurant with Donut Pub? How dare you. Sure NYC has Doughnut Plant (another kind of DP), which is pretty great in its own right, but kinda tries too hard, and also Peter Pan Bakery, which is assclown far out in Greenpoint - seriously, not going to wait on the G for that one, but none of them have the same OG goodness that Donut Pub possesses. Plain and simple, if you want old fashioned and cheap wads of fried dough smothered in sugar, then there's no other option than to go to Donut Pub. It is one of a kind, irreplaceable, a crutch in my day-to-day function.

Remember how I wouldn't shut the hell up about Donuts Plus (another DP? Is this some sort of fucked up joke I'm missing?) back in Philly? Well Donut Pub is like that and more. Also it's in Chelsea so I'm less likely to get mugged.



Like I said, simplicity is the name of the game here. Most places do a standard glazed doughnut, with a plain sugar coating. Donut Pub doesn't deviate far from that design, but their plain glazed doughnut is actually dipped in a combination of honey and syrup. The end result is the tits. A marvelous blend of pure sweetness with a subtle hint of honey that stays moist even hours later, the glaze is literally the perfect mate to the pillowy soft fried dough it's draped on. While people always praise how Krispy Kreme doughnuts yield to biting and melt in your mouth, Donut Pub hits that perfect consistency where the resilience of texture is balanced by the softness of the dough matrix. If it sounds like I'm getting a stiffy just by writing about this ring of pure sensuality - you'd be right. My pants are little bit tight now. Mostly due to the weight I've gained by shoving these in my mouth, but partially because I'm flavoroused right now.



"That's too plain" you say? You're 100% wrong, but I respect the fact that you're entitled to your own dumbass opinions. Well maybe the Boston Creme is more your thing. Same concept applies here - a simple implementation that doesn't deviate from the expected, but is done so well that you'll feel a certain kind of warmness when you bite into it. A certain kind of tranquility that everything around you is okay, along with a slightly accelerated and painful heartbeat. This doughnut will get your blood pressure up, for better or worse.



They don't really fuck around all stingy like most doughnut places do. More often than not, a Boston Creme doughnuts are incredibly sad creations - half-filled and on the brink of collapse. Not theirs. Built upon the same fantastically chewy dough platform, they do nothing more than a simple dip in honey syrup, a heavy-handed application of chocolate glaze, and a ridiculous piping of creme that would shame everyone in the porn industry. They stuff that shit with way too much creme, and top it with way too much chocolate glaze, but that's part of the appeal of Donut Pub.



"But I need my daily fill of fruit and junk so I don't get Scurvy!" This is actually a concern for some people I know. No worries, Donut Pub has you health nuts covered too. In the form of their oh-so-scintillating jelly doughnuts. Not that it really needs explaining, but this is the exact same doughnut shell, but this time stuffed to the point of explosion with grape jelly and then dusted with just enough powdered sugar to make it look like you have a cocaine addiction, to distract people from the shameful fact that you're actually addicted to something like doughnuts.



Remember the "Whitest Kids You Know" skit about the Grapist? Their jelly doughnut is just like that. It'll grape you in the mouth, and leave stains all over your shirt. And you'll like it. There's really nothing special about the jelly here, but when combined with the doughnut and with the glaze, something magical happens. The synergy of sweet upon sweet upon tart makes for a refreshing departure from their other offerings. I don't normally like fruits in my desserts, but when I do... it's at Donut Pub.

So now you know my shameful secret. I am addicted to this hole in the wall doughnut joint. I go there late at night so people don't see me buying a half-dozen at a time to eat in my office with tears of ecstasy and regret streaming down my face. It is both the greatest doughnut place I've found as well as my greatest weakness. My only hope is to drag all of you into this same situation so I'm less embarrassed at my reliance on fried rings and pockets of dough. Sighs all around.

tl;dr - I love DP. Which again - in this context is referring to Donut Pub. They don't make fancy pants doughnuts containing Foie Gras or anything, they just make doughnuts. Their doughnuts are the tits. It has ruined my life in ways I cannot describe.

The Donut Pub
203 West 14th Street, Manhattan, NY 10011
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Animal Style - long overdue (In-N-Out)

Oh my goodness. Oh my dayum, dayumm, dayummm. This is a man that feels passionately about food... and ghetto grocery bags, evidently. This is a man that loves Five Guys' so much that he would take one of their burgers to the parking lot behind a middle school and get it pregnant. This is a man that whose unhealthily arousal for Five Guys' cheeseburgers can only be rivaled by the amount of plaque building up inside his arteries. This man is a man's man, a role model, and some sort of sexual icon... to someone I guess. Aside from the fact that the video is hilarious, I've watched over and over again wondering - "when was the last time I felt this strongly about a burger... anywhere?" The short answer is never. I don't think I've ever actually creamed myself at the thought of a beef patty in between buns, but then again, I've never had a fry that bites back at me. The closest I've come in recent memory? Probably In-N-Out. Six years of burger hype in the making. Did they go "H.A.M.?"



Fuck son. They didn't just go "hard as a motherfucker," they went full retard (in a good way). While they don't deliver your food in a "ghetto grocery bag," that doesn't really diminish the experience. I'm not sure why exactly you'd want your meal to come in a crappy brown bag, but that guy probably knows something I don't. Look at how balanced that meal is. In-N-Out burger (Animal Style), fries (Animal Style), and a Neapolitan shake, which - for the record - was out of this world delicious. Weirdly enough, each of the flavors keeps perfectly distinct (if you don't stir that shit vigorously). As you sip your brain into a minor freeze, you'll hit a layer of chocolate, a layer of vanilla, and a layer of strawberry. Segregation never tasted so good.



"Get yourself a double cheeseburger" he says? That's some weak-ass shit I say. Triple-triple... minimum. Look at cheese, it's definitely oozin', but there's something more about the construction that's so mesmerizing. A well toasted plain generic bun is rather forgettable on its own, but sodomize it with a thick base of crunchy pickles, a hearty slice of tomato, minimal lettuce bullshit to get in the way, and a tower of beef cemented together with fried mustard, grilled onions, and alternating layers of cheese - holy amazeballs, the sensation is not unlike that feeling you get when taking off your pants as soon as you get home. Almost... liberating.

Something that was vaguely confusing about his review. Daym Drops claims that a weak burger is a burger "you can chew and still talk." He proceeds to describe a strong burger as a burger where "the meat just absorbs all the space and all the air possible all in your throat to the point that if you wanted to start talkin' nothin' but mm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mm, mm-mm is comin out." That's poetic as fuck, but did he just suggest that a strong burger is one that kills you by suffocation? If this is the criteria for a 'strong' burger, then sorry... you will be disappointed with the In-N-Out offerings. If you want something to dine on and talk with friends though... get this shit (if you live on the West coast).



Unfortunately, when you bite these fries, they don't bite back. Not sure why the hell you'd want violent fries to begin with, but these are pretty plain Jane. Only after a bukkake of Animal Style sauce and cheese does this serving actually get elevated into special status. If you're not an idiot like I am, you'll eat these while they're fresh. Why? Because if you take 10 minutes to photograph your food, you'll end up with a dip-shit demented wad of congealed fried potato, cheese, grilled onions, and drippy dressing. Sure, that sounds eerily appealing, but trust me - shoving a giant wad of fried starch is not as delicious as it sounds. My uncomfortable arousal quickly faded into general discomfort of the heart. Blah.

In closing, I'm not really sure what I'm trying to convey here. I started off this post thinking about foods that get me hot and bothered, and if I've ever have a weirdly sexual experience like that dude did about Five Guys'. The short boring answer is, "no." What I did come to realize is how much I enjoy In-N-Out, and how much I'm looking forward to going back. A lot of people talk about Shake Shack vs. In-N-Out, or some other burger - and basically, a lot of people need to shut the fuck up. They're all good, but what sets In-N-Out apart is the fact that it's a fast food franchise that's so goddamn delicious and consistent, and the fact that this is scalable makes me pop a proverbial mind-boner.

tl;dr - I have never been as aroused about eating a burger as the bro in that video. He gives me hope that there are great things to look forward to when it comes to food. In-N-Out is pretty much as close as I've come (that's what she said?) from eating a burger in a long time. Their burger is an engineering marvel and their business plan is some sort of black magic. I like racist shakes.

In-N-Out
All over the place in CA,
Fuck you West coast peeps.
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Beer and Schnitzel (Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden)

I'm convinced that if you combine something as awesome as flourless chocolate cake and something as sensual as fried chicken together, it'd probably taste erotic as fuck. You're probably saying to yourself "damn son, that shit sounds biz-nasty. Why do I still listen to this idiot? Also why are you telling everyone about your demented taste buds?" To answer your first question... I'm not sure. But I assure you, this is relevant. Every time I see a menu item that's a combination of things that taste good with various other things that also taste good - I feel compelled to order it. No matter how gross or over the top the combined sum might seem, it will be ordered. No questions asked. I think it's most likely a remnant piece of my brain that's still hard-wired from when I looked like Chunk from the Goonies, but when I saw the "Schnitzel ala Bohemka" at the Bohemian Beer Garden... I knew I had to have it. I had to have my way with the delicate combination of fried chicken, pork fat, runny eggs, and cheese. Oh lord, this is the shit real heart attacks are made of. Never before have pockets of meat been violated by in so many ways.

Basically, think of the juiciest chicken you've ever eaten, pound that ish super thin, bread it ever so lightly, fry it until it's a golden hue of glowing sensuality and crispiness, gently pry open the center cavity, and violate it with the fury of a masturbating teenager by shoving it full of buttery scrambled eggs, thick cut crispy bacon, and enough cheese to bankrupt Wisconsin. That... is the Schnitzel ala Bohemka - and, behold, it was very good.



Wuh? Shit yo, they give you heaps of fried potatoes too! Don't be mistaken, those are not dainty effeminate fries on that plate, those are burly manly potato wedges done only in the fashion that an Eastern European could do. And also... suddenly salad? The people at the beer garden have your best interests in mind, or possibly insurance. They don't want you dying on the spot from the massive tongue boner you'll get simply from looking at the cross section of your juicy fried meat pocket (or possibly heart disease). No! They're gonna give you some greens and shiz to keep your ticker going until you keel over outside. What thoughtful peeps the Czechs are.

Then of course follows the shame of having eaten such a behemoth, which is shortly followed by the inevitable sharp twangs of pain in my chest, but all of these are quickly forgotten when you realize how freaking delicious that package of caloric shame is. It really can make you forget anything that troubles you. It is that good.



They also have bratwurst and kielbasa for those of you who prefer your meat in rod form. Not me, but hey... whatever floats your boat. And with that rod of erect porcine meat? They pair that shit with enough cheese to make any Asian person want to run to the bathroom to do battle with toilet Poseidon. Trust me, demons will be exorcised. It comes with a side of pierogis too, so you know... there's that. More carbs and cheese. Actually, thinking back, this was as full of flavors as it was a plate of indigestion. Again, my scumbag brain was overwhelmed by the pros and cons and ultimately decided that it was an excellent idea to ingest assloads of lactose into my system. Feltbadman.jpg.



Goddamn, did I also mention there's a whole list of beers I can't pronounce? That means they come from overseas, which in turn means it's some classy-ass shit. Fool-proof logic. Your body won't even know what the fuck is going on! "Should I focus on cleansing this dude's blood from the insane amounts of heavy beer he's drinking? Or should I try to send blood to stomach to break down all that fried meat he's shoving in his mouth? What shit is this bro pulling?!" I like to keep my body guessing, and Bohemian Beer Garden makes that too easy. I like to think of it as similar to going to the gym, where I train my body for all kinds of situations. Yes... that.

As an aside, don't get the dumplings. They're just steamed bread. Think about how gross it would be if you took a loaf of Wonderbread, balled it up, and then steamed the fuck out of it. Shit sounds lame right? I'm sure it is.

tl;dr - the Bohemian Beer Garden has a bunch of shit that will wreak havoc on your digestive system and overall health. Actually, I don't know that there's anything on the menu that's health aside from pretzels. Still, their fried chicken, bacon, egg, cheese concoction is just short of sexual. I mean sensual. Don't get the dumplings. It's just steamed bread. Gross-ass shiz.

Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden
29-19 24th Avenue, New York, NY 11102
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Dough nubbins and chicken broth (Arirang)

Good news everyone! I am not dead, I'm just insanely busy learning all about Java and Python style guides, App Engine, JS optimization, and a bunch of other topics that aren't very useful to anyone else. Anyway, I've heard the term "technical debt" thrown around endlessly lately, and that's basically how I feel about this blog. I took a few undeserved posting breaks to stuff my face with now no longer available cake cuts (yeah, I took a break so long that a restaurant straight up closed in the time it took me to write a post), and now I've dug myself into a blogging hole I can't possibly recover from. Blogging... it's just like being addicted to drugs. Or maybe it isn't, I don't really know, I've never really done drugs. But I'm pretty sure you don't care about my technical debt woes, my style guide violations, or my possibly non-existent drug problems. You just want to know more about this bowl of creamy white liquid that I apparently poured into my mouth. So instead of boring you further, now I'm going to tell you about this sick-ass Korean noodle soup thing you can get at Arirang. It has nubbins - instant tongue boner.



That looks like South America. Or Illinois. Whatever, you can't unsee it.

Now I know what you're probably thinking... "What the fuck are you talking about? Nubbins? That just sounds retarded." If you grew up in the US, you're probably more familiar with the idea of chicken dumpling soup. If you grew up in Taiwan then these are kinda like 麵疙瘩 (literally translates to dough scraps) suspended in 雞湯. It's basically the same shit, but better? Some people like the uniformity of a spaghetti, ziti, or a 拉麵. Not me though. I want to surprise the shit out of my tongue. I never want it to know what the next bite entails, and that's the beauty of these nubbins of dough. Each one is like a snowflake, unique in shape, size, and texture. Plus they're curiously resilient (in a good way) that would make Stretch Armstrong's arms look like a straight bitch. Seriously, just look at it. Mmm, dat dough. Fuck. It's comfort food of the highest level on it's own. Slather it with whatever and I'm sure it'd still taste delicious. So what could possibly make these defective looking scraps of boiled dough even better?



Look they even put some random green shits on top to make you think it's healthy or something

Dropping that ish into a pot of the richest chicken broth this side of anywhere. If I could describe the taste in one sentence - it's as if they took a chicken and milked it for all it's worth into a rolling pot of vegetables, potatoes, and seasoning - mixing in a symphony of flavors so sensual that even Carl Weathers would admit "you got a stew goin." Yes, I realize you can't milk chickens, but bear with me here... I have never tasted a chicken broth that tasted so pure and unadulterated, but this was as rich as the soup at Henan Flavor, and that shit is so intense it makes my butt hurt just thinking about it. The tastes involved are so powerful it takes a steel bowl to contain it. How does that even make logical sense? Fuck that, it's so good it doesn't have to. The clean yet full taste of the soup combined with dumb looking hunks of dough nubs seems like such a stupidly simple thing, but it's probably the lack of complexity that makes this so damn good. Not too many parts to screw up. Well played Korea. Anyway, I'm not so sure this is a great Summer food now that it's hotter than Satan's asshole in NYC (it was pretty appropriate when I had it back in January or February), but yeah. Chicken soup and clumps of stupid looking dough at Arirang is most definitely the tits.

tl;dr - I am not dead, I have been doing stuff you probably don't care about. I enjoy drinking chicken soup with noodle things that look like South America. Did I mention how it comes in a metal bowl? Regular bowls can't contain flavor like this.

Arirang Korean Restaurant
32 West 32nd Street, New York, NY 10001
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