Hot Doughnuts Now

Being a doughnut lover and a purist (only a glazed, yeast-raised rocks my world), I’d heard enough about Krispy Kreme to know nothing could keep me from making the pilgrimage to La Habra Marketplace, site of the company’s first West Coast outlet. After all, “Original Glazed” was the North Carolina-based chain’s claim to fame and, after 62 years, still its top seller. I was headed to the source, the ne plus ultra of fried dough.

The moment I entered the bright shop papered in vintage Krispy Kreme photos, the machinery mesmerized me: 30 feet of gleaming stainless steel, an array of gears, pulleys, tubes, cranes and conveyors capable of producing 3,000 doughnuts an hour.

I--and everyone else who came in--watched wide-eyed as rings of dough popped out of the extruder (there are no doughnut holes at Krispy Kreme) and started their journey through the giant glass-walled proof box and into the river of hot shortening. Like bobbing life preservers, the golden puffs were automatically flipped midstream to finish frying and then onto wire conveyor belts before disappearing through a continuously flowing curtain of glaze to emerge fully dressed. The trademark neon sign “Hot Doughnuts Now” glowed red, telling me the time at last had come.

The doughnut weighed nothing in my hand. The tender dough collapsed in my mouth at first bite. An instant later, the glaze on my lips and fingers was the only sign of what had just happened. So fast? I reached for another, somewhat mollified by the knowledge that one Krispy Kreme glazed doughnut has 160 calories and 10 grams of fat, half the fat and calories of a scoop of premium vanilla ice cream.

When my head cleared, the bustle of activity around me came into focus. It was three days before the official Jan. 26 opening, and folks from corporate were there doing last-minute training. Maybe I could learn the secrets of Krispy Kreme.

Yeah, right. Systems specialist Gene Sockman showed me the mixing process but told me, “I am the keeper of the keys. Only I and one other person in the company know the recipe. We make the dry mix in Winston-Salem and ship it out to the stores.”

At the doughnut-filling station, Betty Long, 29-year Krispy Kreme veteran and process specialist, was teaching employees how to work the Willy Wonka-like jelly and custard dispensers. The motherly type from Huntsville, Ala., took me under her wing.

“Want to try, honey?” she asked.

Suited up and feeling a little like Lucy Ricardo in the chocolate factory, I cradled two “shells” in my palms so I wouldn’t get thumbprints on the pristine glazed surface. I gently shoved the doughnuts onto the spouts and simultaneously tapped the dispenser bar with my little finger. In a nanosecond, precisely 6 ounces of fluffy white cream filled each doughnut.

After several sets, I was ready to sign on, but it was time for Betty to get back to work. She took my gloves, and in her warm Southern voice invited, “Y’all come back and see us real soon.” You betcha, Betty.

Krispy Kreme is at 1901 W. Imperial Highway at Beach Boulevard in La Habra; (562) 690-2650.