Resurfacing memories of New York: doughnuts

Doughtnut Plant, 220 West 23rd St, New York City

It's lunchtime on day two of a girls-only trip to New York and we're piecing together reminiscing about the previous night. Following an evening fuelled by martinis, we reflect on the revelation that one of us meows under stress, my plans for new world order based entirely around people with the same name and the mysterious head in one of our photos. They, quite naturally, want to know if I remember having a long conversation at the bar, leaving them waiting for drinks. More importantly, they wonder if I remember what it was that caused this unwelcome delay in an otherwise well-lubricated evening.

Of course I do. With an unfailing ability to sniff out a conversation about food, I had turned to the man standing next to me at the bar and started talking about doughnuts. Unlike many of the things I did that night, this was entirely sensible because he pointed me in the direction of the Best Doughnuts in the World. 

New Yorkers will surely be familiar with Doughnut Plant. Foolish Londoner that I am, their existence was news to me. So we went there the very next day, following an epic bike ride and unhappy with the very crappy pretzel we had scoffed on the Staten Island ferry. 

There are two types of doughnut available at Doughnut Plant: yeast or cake. As well as the more conventional glazed and jam doughnuts, there were more interesting choices such as a blackout doughnut (cake), tres leches (cake) and crème brûlée (yeast). I had the yeasty crème brûlée. It was marvellous, so good it was gone before I could take a picture. The batter was light with the right crispness on the outside. It was glazed in a burnt sugar crust and filled with a wonderfully rich, eggy, vanilla-scented custard.

In some ways I'm slightly relieved that Doughnut Plant and its fat-sodden treats are several thousand miles away. On the other hand, if they were to open here, filling the cream puff-shaped hole in my life created by the closure of the Beard Papa's on Oxford St, that would be a good thing. One to add to the "Please cross the Atlantic" list, alongside In-N-Out, proper BBQ and Shake Shack.