The donut-as-hamburger bun meme

As you may have concluded from this blog, I have a reputation for loving donuts. So I get sent a lot of donut-related articles, books, well-wishes on National Donut Day and Fastnacht Day -- you name it.

The most striking theme of late? Donuts as hamburger buns.

I first heard about this on the radio, when Peter Segal of NPR's Wait Wait Don't Tell Me interviewed southern comfort-food diva Paula Deen. Her most infamous recipe was the "Ladies Brunch Burger" (watch her Food Network segment in full glory here): a bacon-and-egg-topped hamburger ensconced by two Krispy Kreme glazed donuts. "No you didn't," marvels Paula's guest. "Yes I did!" Paula retorts, with a devilish smile. The two then unhinge their jaws and chomp into the monstrosity, squealing like schoolgirls at a slumber party.

Paula Deen's Ladies' Brunch Burger.

Now it looks like Voodoo Doughnuts of Portland has teamed up with a local burger joint to offer the "Voodoo Doughnut Burger".



Will the meme fade away, or permeate our collective food consciousness? Only time will tell. Frankly, I'm a little scared to make one of these things at home at eat it. But if I'm ever in Portland, you know where I'll be....

Tour de Donut movie

The title says it all... Here's the trailer.
(Thanks to JDC for the link)

Lenora Claire's "doNUTS"

Lenora Claire busts out her new web show called, appropriately enough, "doNUTS". Tang's Donuts in Silver Lake, CA, never looked so inviting/creepy.




(via Boing Boing)

Breakfast Song

Start your morning off right with a little breakfast music:



(via Metafilter)

Breakfast in Paradise

We just got back from the Hawaii (the Big Island), where we did a mix of camping and luxury hotel-crashing. Wondering what breakfast options await you on this tropical island? Wonder no more, because we’ve got the lowdown.

Breakfast in the resorts

There were a couple of breakfasts at the resorts we stayed at worth mentioning. Our first day in Hawaii was spent at Waikoloa Beach Resort, north of Kailua-Kona. This was a pleasantly gentle introduction to the Aloha spirit: lagoon-style pools and hot tubs with historic lava fish ponds, leading out to a scenic beach and bathwater-warm ocean with nary a ripple on the water. Torches at night, lots of families, huge Hawaiian-style BBQ ribs that night at their in-house restaurant, everyone saying aloha to you—you get the picture.

The next morning, the in-house place had a huge breakfast buffet. There was a separate room for just this purpose, walled in by glass and attended to by white-jacketed omelet chefs. We were tempted, but decided to order off the menu to avoid getting bloated before snorkeling. I had a meticulously arranged trio of macadamia nut pancakes, french toast, and waffles. We ate outside, at a table under an umbrella, the myna birds edging in for crumbs, and the cool ocean breeze against freshly showered faces. It was nice. But, after communing with nature—our morning was spent snorkeling with no less than five different sea turtles—the vibe of the place seemed different, the air now heavy with stoic Midwesterners staying with aging parents. It was a clear sign we need to move on and get camping.