It was early morning out of Canyons Village as I made my way quickly from the Orange Bubble Express to Tombstone to Peak 5. I love this part of the mountain as it’s remote enough that most won’t find it for another half hour or so. Clouds were forming over 9990 and Square Top, obscuring the ridgeline, as yet another storm was ripping in from Big Cottonwood Canyon.
After arcing turns down Upper Crowning Glory, my heart was racing as I headed up the Dreamscape chair around 9:30 a.m., anxious for what was in store. But my motivation today wasn’t about dropping into a powder line down Fool’s Paradise, or ripping big turns down Alpenglow.
Today, it was about the doughnuts!
What is it that infatuates us with those rings of flour, yeast, water, butter and sugar? How often have you gone in to Smith’s for groceries and tucked a chocolate doughnut into your bag? Or popped into Banbury Cross down in the valley to pick up a dozen for the family? And have you put down five bucks on a gourmet doughnut just to try to understand why anyone would do that? Or is it just me?
I studied doughnuts in college. We had a back alley shop that started frying at 2:00 a.m. That was perfect timing as we headed home from an evening at the Kollege Klub. There’s nothing like doughnuts right out of the fryer!
While we’re on the topic, is it doughnut or donut? And what’s the thing about the hole?
On my recent Austrian ski trip, a typical morning was grabbing a krapfen and heiße Schokolade at a mountain hut. And so goes my morning routine at Canyons, often to the chagrin of my companions who just want to ski.
Humankind has been frying dough in oil for centuries. The hole in the doughnut was reportedly conceived by a young Dutch sailor, Captain Hanson Gregory. Some say it was because the center wasn’t cooking as well. Others cleverly say he wanted the hole in order to hook the doughy treat to the spokes of his ship’s wheel.
I remember my first time at the new Cloud Dine back in 2015. The doughnuts were a featured menu item, freshly baked on-site at 9,200 feet. It became a staple of my ski day. Then came the fabled 2020-21 COVID season when not only did we have to ski with masks, but the Cloud Dine doughnuts were put on hold.
The patrol was just pulling out the ski racks as I arrived at Cloud Dine. Gone was the iconic view of the ridgeline as the storm began to settle in. I ditched my skis and headed inside.
Executive Chef Ben Mosier (yes, there is an executive chef overseeing doughnuts) greeted me as we went behind the scenes to learn about the secrets of the Cloud Dine doughnuts. Hidden inside bins at a secure kitchen location were the ingredients.
Hmmm, it all looked pretty much like flour and sugar to me. There must be some other secret elements tucked away in a safe that he’s not showing me.
Each afternoon before the crew heads back down the mountain, they make the dough and allow it to rise, or proof, in the thin mountain air. The next morning, rings of dough are transformed into doughnuts.
He dropped the round mounds of dough with the missing centers into the frier, deftly flipping them continuously until they were a golden brown. After a few minutes rest (for the doughnuts, that is), chef Ben performed his artistry, dipping one side part way into the glaze, then giving it a spin of the wrist to coat, and the doughnut is ready to be served.
Sitting by a window with a panoramic view of a raging snow storm moving in, I sat down with my doughnuts (yes plural) and a huge mug of hot chocolate. My knife cut deftly through the dough. I savored that iconic taste of glaze and dough.
It was a great day on the mountain.