A Confederacy of Dunces

JELLY DONUTS

As kids, when my sisters and I were bored at church, we would write notes to each other on prayer cards with the stubby pencils tucked in front of the pews. Forty percent of it was pure nonsense—doodles and made-up words and outlandish “would you rather” scenarios. The other sixty percent of the time we asked each other simply, “If you could eat anything in the world at this very moment, what would it be?”

We answered from the depths of our stomachs, listened to our literal gut reactions, wrote the answers down earnestly, and passed the prayer cards back. At first, our cravings changed from moment to moment, swinging willy-nilly from fried chicken to Sour Patch Kids and getting progressively less coherent as our tights got itchier and our stomachs grumbled more loudly. Eventually, though, the game got boring. It wasn’t that we ran out of foods to dream up, it was just that we had all settled on our favorites—our “desert island foods,” as we called them. Mine was always mashed potatoes with cheddar cheese, Gemma always said extra-crispy French fries, and Ande always, always wanted a warm jelly donut.

Donuts are and always have been one of my favorite foods. Growing up I generally opted for the cake variety. I found it hard to determine whether yeasted donuts actually tasted like anything, or if all I was tasting was their filled centers. Jelly-filled in particular was always my least favorite donut—I found the squidgy center disconcerting and the jelly overly sweet and alarmingly red. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized the error of my ways—the most significant of which was that I had only ever tried a Dunkin’ Donuts jelly donut. A few years ago, around Hanukkah, my friend took me to the neighborhood where he grew up in Borough Park, Brooklyn, and brought me to Weiss Kosher Bakery, home of the “heartburn-free donut,” the best sufganiyot I’ve ever had.

Weiss’s sells about 40,000 donuts during Hanukkah, a staggering number, especially if you’ve seen their ancient Hobart mixer and two-at-a-time filling-stuffer. I ate so many of those airy, raspberry jelly–filled delicacies that day that I had to curl my knees up to my chest and fall asleep on the subway ride home.

The cruelest part of the story is that despite how sick I was that night, I still woke up craving those jelly donuts the next morning. Lying in bed, all I could think about was how dangerously close I was to becoming Ignatius J. Reilly, the gluttonous main character of John Kennedy Toole’s posthumously published novel, A Confederacy of Dunces. There has hardly ever been a more repulsive and unlikable antihero than Ignatius.

Walker Percy, who was instrumental in getting A Confederacy of Dunces published eleven years after John Kennedy Toole committed suicide, called Ignatius a “slob extraordinary, a mad Oliver Hardy, a fat Don Quixote, a perverse Thomas Aquinas rolled into one.” He is lazy and selfish and, at thirty years old, still living with his mother, whom he treats like his personal waitress. While hot dogs are Ignatius’s “desert island food,” he is also a huge fan of jelly donuts. Early on in the book Ignatius casually mentions that he loves jelly donuts, and his mother immediately rushes out to a shop on Magazine Street in New Orleans and buys him two dozen of them. He eats nearly all twenty-four and sucks the jelly out of the ones he doesn’t eat. The passage is one of the first glimpses into how unhealthy Ignatius’s relationships with both food and his mother are.

When Patrolman Mancuso comes over, Ignatius’s mother offers him a donut from the ravaged, grease-stained donut box, which “looked as if it had been subjected to unusual abuse during someone’s attempt to take all of the donuts at once.” All that is left inside the box are “two withered pieces of donut, out of which, judging by their moist edges, the jelly had been sucked.” Not surprisingly, Patrolman Mancuso passes on the offer.

Don’t let Ignatius’s (or my) gluttony deter you—you need to make these donuts.

A CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES

Jelly Donuts

Be forewarned that this is not a quick recipe. It takes some planning, but it’s really worth it. The long rise in the refrigerator gives the yeast time to ferment, which will give the donuts a wonderful flavor and texture. Whenever I make yeast donuts I like to first make what’s called a “yeast sponge,” which you will see in the first part of the recipe instructions. This is a concentrated yeast dough that ferments on its own for a couple of hours before being added to the main dough. It’s a game changer as far as donut making goes; it ensures that the delicious yeasty flavor of the donut will overpower the flavor of fry-oil and jelly.

Makes 30 to 40 small (2-inch) donuts

Yeast Sponge

2¼ teaspoons (1 packet) active dry yeast (not instant)

¼ cup warm water (110°F)

¼ cup pastry flour

Donuts

2¼ teaspoons (1 packet) active dry yeast (not instant)

1 cup warm milk (110°F)

4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled a bit

3 large egg yolks

3½ cups pastry flour

2 tablespoons sugar

1½ teaspoons kosher salt

8 cups canola oil, for frying

2 cups sugar, for rolling

2 cups seedless jelly of your choice

Make the Yeast Sponge:

In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast in the warm water and mix in the flour until fully combined. Cover with a towel and leave in a warm place until bubbly and doubled in size, about 2 hours.

Make the Donuts:

In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast in the warm milk.

Transfer the yeast sponge to the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a dough hook attachment. With the mixer running on low, add the milk-yeast mixture, the butter, and the egg yolks.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the pastry flour, sugar, and salt. Add these dry ingredients to the wet in three batches. Knead on medium speed until the dough is pulling away from the sides of the bowl and forming a ball around the dough hook, about 3 minutes.

Transfer the dough to a large oiled bowl. Cover with a towel and place in the fridge to proof for 12 to 16 hours.

Turn out the dough onto a floured surface and roll it to about ½ inch thick. Cut with whatever circle cutter size you prefer—I made 30 mini (2-inch) donuts and 4 big (3½-inch) donuts. You can reroll the scraps once; just bring the dough back into a ball and let it rest for 5 minutes or so.

After punching out the donuts, lay them on a piece of oiled parchment and let them rise in a warm place for 30 minutes.

When you’re ready to fry, heat the canola oil in a Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed large pot over medium-high heat until it reaches 350°F. Fry the donuts in batches, making sure you keep the temperature at or around 350°F. Change the oil if it gets too filled with dough debris. My 2-inch donuts were done after 1 minute per side and my 3½-inch donuts were done after 2½ minutes per side.

Toss the fried donuts in a bowl of sugar while they are still warm, poke a hole in them with a skewer or a small knife, load up a pastry bag with jelly, and fill those suckers up.