We Try the Voodoo Dozen from the New Voodoo Doughnut in Dallas

It took a while, but Voodoo Doughnut has opened its first shop in Dallas. It happened on Nov. 20 on Lower Greenville Avenue. We don’t know why it took the Portland, Oregon-based chain so long to land in the Big D, especially since Voodoo had already hit Austin and Houston, but after sampling a large selection of its creations, we’re just happy it finally did.

Indeed, Voodoo Doughnut is a gourmet doughnut maker. It’s an easy fact to dismiss or gloss over given the emergence of independent and national gourmet chains, but even with expansion, it’s nice to see that Voodoo’s confections aren’t  leaning too far on the gimmicky side of the style-versus-substance scale. In fact, the inside of the Dallas shop looks as close to any ol’ random suburban strip mall doughnut store as most of its other outposts. Sure, there’s the bright pink branding they’ve become famous for over the past two decades. And there’s an impossibly awesome painting of Robbie Van Winkle, aka Vanilla Ice, on black velvet, and a trio of multi-level carousel towers with colorful selections displayed, but overall, the space is a bit more sterile than Voodoo’s quirky, outlaw reputation would suggest.

But the doughnuts! As much as we got a chuckle at the sweet Vanilla Ice art –for real, it was glorious — the fried goods are what we came for, and we got what we needed. Customers can order doughnuts individually or take the carousel gazing out of the equation by opting for one of the pre-selected collections: Classic Dozen, Voodoo Dozen or Vegan Voodoo Dozen.

Deciding that a mix of traditional styles and some of Voodoo’s signature creations was the way to go, we grabbed the Voodoo Dozen Doughnuts ($29.50). It was a wise choice. Even if you’ve stood in line for a few minutes, the names of the doughnuts rotating on the carousel aren't very visible, so ordering can be daunting.

Our large pink box was packed with an explosion of colors, shapes and sugary scents. Although it felt a tad disrespectful to dismantle the carefully coiffed collection, we still delved in with enthusiasm. Our layer cake-sized box included The Dirt, Blueberry Cake, Maple Blazer Blunt, Marshall Mathers, Sprinkle Cake, Raised Glazed, Homer Chocolate, Coconut, Bacon Maple Bar, Portland Cream, Grape Ape, Voodoo Doll and Oh Captain, My Captain.

Here’s what we found when taking in the Voodoo Dozen:

The Gimmicks Are Legit
In large part due to Voodoo’s national success and the proliferation of high-end shops such as The Salty Donut, just about every mom-and-pop store on every corner has made it a point to smother some of their basic doughnuts with cookies, cereal and candy to keep up with the times (and to charge a bit extra). Needless to say, such a stunt doesn't always pay off in the form of a delicious doughnut. In many of those cases, an already sticky sweet bite becomes sickly sweet. It’s too much of a good thing.

But in the case of Voodoo’s tricked-up choices, balanced sweetness and a consideration of how certain flavors play off of one another make even the more decadent options taste more sensible than they may look.

The Voodoo Doll, for example, is arguably Voodoo’s signature prize, and it lived up to its reputation. The doll-shaped yeast doughnut, gushing with raspberry jelly and topped with chocolate glaze that’s pierced by a tiny pretzel stick, was as satisfying to eat as it was fun to look at. The same can be said for the irreverent Maple Blaze Blunt, a cinnamon-dusted yeast doughnut cone with maple glaze and red sprinkles on the end, to resemble burning embers. We saw it as a quality bite rather than a kitschy photo opp. In both cases, a happy marriage between the sweet and the spongy, almost umami of the base doughnut, played a pivotal role.
The Marshall Mathers is plain cake with vanilla frosting, topped with dozens of mini M&M candies. (The rapper Eminem’s name is Marshall Mathers.) Similar to the Oh Captain, My Captain (raised yeast doughnut with vanilla frosting, topped with Cap’n Crunch cereal) and The Dirt (raised yeast doughnut with vanilla frosting, topped with crumbled Oreo cookies), the candy-coated Marshall Mathers could’ve overwhelmed with a rush of sugar, but none of them did.

There was a bit of bad news in our box, however. Our Bacon Maple Bar was without any bacon, which means we received just the Maple Bar. Given that Voodoo claims to be the first shop to lay salty bacon strips on top of a doughnut, we were a bit disappointed by missing out this time.

The Classics, Done Right
If you’re buying for yourself only, it’s easy to go wild and choose one of Voodoo’s more adventurous or racy offerings (the cream-filled, penis-shaped Cock N’ Balls, anyone?), but when buying a boxful for a group, mixing in a few traditional styles is a safe bet. And as we noted above, the base doughnuts for the more attention-grabbing choices were spot on, which boded well for classic doughnut shop staples.

The Raised Glazed represents Voodoo’s take on the normal glazed doughnut, but it’s far less slick with glaze. Both airy and chewy, it was a nice nod to the notion that it’s important to do the simpler things well before shooting for the moon. The frosted picks, such as The Homer (raised yeast, topped with pink strawberry frosting and colorful sprinkles) and the Grape Ape (raised yeast, topped with vanilla frosting, grape dust and purple sprinkles) provided the same, well-balanced bites that their more ostentatious menu neighbors did, but with a more prominent base.

For cake lovers, the Blueberry Cake and the Chocolate Coconut Cake doughnuts were pleasantly dense and faithful takes on the standard styles they're modeled after. The same certainly goes for the Portland Cream, a round yeast doughnut piped full of Bavarian cream that will satiate the Boston Cream lovers in your life.

When a hyped chain finally arrives and lives up to its reputation, it’s a great thing.

There's no seating inside Dallas Voodoo Doughnut, so before you and your crew tear open your pink box in your vehicle, grab a few napkins, and make sure the bacon is there.

Voodoo Doughnuts, 1806 Greenville Ave. Daily, 6 a.m. – midnight.