Species 010: Chocolate and Praline Donuts
Since I was little, donuts have held a special place in my heart. It’s not just because they’re the most ideal treat in the world—not too sweet, fluffy in the most comforting way, acceptable to eat at basically any hour—but because donuts played an important role in my family history.
My parents both grew up in Texas, which is where they met. I’d say my mom has shed most of her Texan ways since leaving for Juilliard when she was sixteen, but my dad and his three brothers all have a little bit of Texas in them still. His side of the family is the one with the donut connection: growing up, they all worked in the donut shop that my grandparents owned to help make ends meet. My grandma, a brilliant, scrappy person who happens to be the first woman in Korea to get a PhD in Mathematics, altered the glaze formula that the donut chain gave her, making her donuts stay fresh longer. My dad and his brothers would dutifully report to the shop before school to help out—apparently customers loved their pleasant manners and the way they would calculate the tax in their head.
Hearing stories about my scrappy relatives always makes me feel proud, and even though I’ve never had to face the trials and tribulations of their life in Texas, I’ve always felt that their stories were an important part of my own history. Each of the four brothers came out of Texas with an incredible work ethic, a scrappy attitude, and a good-natured, whole-hearted love of donuts. Almost in an aspirational, not-quite-logical effort to emulate their scrappiness, my siblings and I have all adopted an unreasonable love for donuts.
Having been away from home for almost a decade now, I’ve gotten used to being the only person freaking out about donuts in any given crowd. Sure, most people with any kind of soul are enthused by the arrival of a box of donuts, but I always seemed to be the only one tickled truly pink by them.
The other day, I visited my dad’s office—a family business started by him and his brother and the place of employment of their older brother and my older brother. I was there with my other older brother (that’s six Seo’s in the building, for anyone keeping count) for a meeting with my dad, uncle, another of their co-workers, and an agency from Brooklyn who was there to pitch a website redesign. They had graciously brought two boxes of donuts from Dough, one of my favorite donut haunts in the city. Sitting in that room with three of my family members, I remembered where my love for donuts came from.
As each of us came in, one by one, to see the donuts, we exclaimed something along the lines of “Oh my gosh, donuts!! I love donuts! You know [my dad and uncle/my brothers and I] worked at a donut shop when [we/they] were little!” Seeing my brother, my dad, and my uncle react the same way I had, I felt happy to be with family, sharing a box of donuts.
When I got home that day I decided to finally make my own donut recipe—something I have been meaning to do but have been daunted by for some time. I had no expectations or desires other than to make a donut that would make someone as happy as we had been in that meeting room.
Don’t feel guilty, sometimes you have to get down to business…
Primary Traits
I’ve been terrified to make my own donuts for a long time. Part of it is because, although I prefer eating American desserts to French, I was trained by aggressively French chefs, and American desserts were absolutely not covered. Tarts I’m fine with, pies I’m terrified of. Chouquettes are a piece of cake (mixed metaphors anyone?), donuts are a fright. I also realize that, because I love American treats so much, the stakes are higher for me. If I don’t get it right, I will be ruthless towards myself. None of it is quite logical, but fear almost never is.
In order to get over my fear, I decided to take a page out of the book of The Fearless Baker, Erin Jeanne McDowell, whose attitude towards baking really resonates with me. She posits that, if you understand what the heck is going on when you bake, you will be fearless to conquer it. I started with one of her donut recipes, hoping that her spirit would see me through these trying times.
Trait #1: Yeasted Donut Dough
I compared recipes for yeasted donuts from a few sources I trust to figure out the patterns and understand what’s going on in that crazy dough. I found that the dough is actually very simple and straightforward—it’s a high hydration dough (i.e. it’s sticky) but that’s the only thing scary about it. It’s mildly enriched, meaning there’s some milk, butter, and sugar in there as opposed to just water. What I found interesting was comparing the different methods. Across the board, no one called for a whole ton of kneading—only about 5-8 minutes in a stand mixer with a dough hook. Some methods called for warm milk, while others called for cold. And of course, there was always the option to let your dough rise overnight so you didn’t have to wait for it to rise in the morning.
After comparing about four different methods, I made a hybrid method that happened to use two different recipes of Erin’s. I decided to use warm milk, let the dough rest after the initial mixing to let flour distribute the moisture, knead for 6 minutes until the dough started pulling away from the sides of the bowl, let it rise in an oven at 85ºF, and cut it into squares. (Don’t worry, all that is explained in detail in the recipe below.) I also fried half the donuts in canola oil and half in lard, to compare the results.
After the first iteration, I decided to change up the method a bit, all in an effort to boost the flavor of the dough. First, I added some extra nutmeg because it’s a flavor that I think complements even a plain donut. Next, I decided to use cold milk and let the dough rise in the fridge overnight, which is a trick French chefs use for croissant dough to help develop the flavor. The cold milk is key in achieving a slow rise. Warm milk could cause the dough to over proof overnight. I also made up my mind that canola oil really doesn’t cut it for flavor. If you can’t or won’t use lard, use peanut oil—the go-to flavorful frying oil.
Trait #2: Chocolate Praline Glaze
Again, it was my goal to make a simple donut that would just taste plain old good, but I couldn’t help but put my own twist on it. Chocolate frosted donuts are tied, with plain glazed donuts, for my favorite kind, so I thought about what I could do to update that flavor. I’ve been obsessed with praline lately, and chocolate and praline go together like two peas in a pod. I knew that the smoothness of a homemade praline paste would incorporate into a powdered sugar-based glaze well, and luckily, it did.
Trait #3: Praline Dust Topping
Finally, I wanted to add a little texture to the donut. You can add texture in such a way that also adds a new flavor, or you can leverage existing flavors in your recipe by using an ingredient in a different form. I decided to add texture by dipping the donuts in some of the caramelized praline dust that I had reserved before grinding the rest to a paste.
Resulting Species
The resulting donut is just what I was going for: fluffy, chewy, pillowy, soft, and flavorful. It isn’t a crazy donut (nothing like the Voodoo doll donut I had in Austin), but it’s a comforting donut, a homey one. The yeasted dough is perfect, thanks to Erin’s recipe, and the glaze is interesting without being challenging. The nutty caramelized hazelnut and almond paste complements the chocolate beautifully, and the dust adds a little bit of crunch to the experience. Enjoy, and remember to stay scrappy.
Until next time,
The Culinary Darwinist
Chocolate and Praline Donuts
Makes 8 large donuts and, somehow, 10-12 donut holes?
Ingredients
For the donuts
For the praline paste and dust
For the glaze
Method
Make the donut dough
- Combine the flour, sugar, salt, yeast, and nutmeg in the bowl of a standing mixer with the dough hook attachment. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg, milk, melted butter, vanilla, and almond extract. Add the liquid to the dry mixture and mix until combined (about 1 min). Cover the bowl with a dish towel and let the dough rest for 5 minutes.
- After letting it rest, knead the dough on medium speed for about 6 minutes. The dough should start to pull away from the sides of the bowl (i.e. it should get a bit less sticky, though it will stay relatively sticky). Transfer to a greased bowl, turning the dough over to coat it in oil, and cover with plastic wrap. Let the dough rest in the fridge overnight.
Make the praline paste/dust
- Toast the hazelnuts and almonds in a pan on the stove or in the oven at 375º for about 15 minutes. The nuts should be very well toasted, as this will help both the flavor and the texture of the praline.
- Combine the sugar, water, and lemon juice in a medium saucepan. Stir together until the sugar is evenly wet—this will help it caramelize evenly. Set over medium-high heat, and do not stir once the caramel starts simmering. Swirl the pan if it looks like it is heating unevenly. Use a pastry brush dipped in water to brush down the edges of the pan if you see caramel drying out on the sides.
- Once the sugar turns a dark amber color, pour in the toasted nuts and stir to evenly coat. Pour the caramel into a thin layer on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Let cool completely until the caramel has completely set.
- Break up the caramel into shards and place in a food processor. Process until the caramel has turned into a coarse dust. Reserve about 3/4 cup of the dust to top the donuts. Keep processing the rest of the dust until it starts to turn into a paste. Drizzle in 2-3 T of vegetable oil to help encourage the process. Strain the praline paste through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl or container.
Fry and glaze the donuts
- After the donut dough has risen overnight, punch the dough down and turn it out onto a floured surface. At this point, you want to be gentle with the dough—roll it out until it's about 1/2" thick, then use your fingers to gently stretch the dough until it's 1/4" thick. Using a square or round cutter that's at least 3" wide, cut out eight donuts. Using a small square or round cutter that's approximately 1/3 the diameter of the donut, cut out the donut holes. I find that I usually have room to get 2-3 extra donut holes from the bordering dough as well. Cover the donuts with a dish towel and let rise at room temperature for 30 minutes.
- Meanwhile, prepare your frying and glazing stations. Begin heating 2-3 inches of oil in a heavy-duty skillet or dutch oven. Throw some paper towels down on a baking sheet and set a wire rack over it—you'll use this to drain your donuts. Prepare your glaze in a bowl big enough to fit a donut in it by whisking together the powdered sugar, cocoa powder, praline paste, almond extract, and milk. Go slow with the milk—the glaze should look thicker than you'd expect, as it will melt a little then set up on your donut.
- After the donuts have proofed for 30 minutes, use a candy thermometer or a donut hole to check the temperature of the oil. The oil should be about 360º for frying. If the dough sizzles, rises to the top of the oil, and browns in about 30-40 seconds, the oil is the right temperature. Fry no more than 2 donuts at a time, to prevent the oil from dropping in temperature. Let each donut fry for about 30-60 seconds each side, depending on your oil temp. Use a spider to scoop the donuts out of the oil and onto your prepared drying rack. Let the oil come up to temperature between batches by with about a minute before throwing the next donuts in.
- Once the donuts are fried, dip each into the glaze and set back on the drying rack. Start with the first donut you fried—it will be cooler. For this kind of glaze, you want the donuts to be warm but not hot. You should be able to hold them comfortably. Sprinkle each donut with the praline dust. And eat them all immediately. ∎
This is a sneak peek article.
For the full suite of recipes, check back here in April.