Super Secret Donuts
Foolish Things Coffee Co.
February 15, 2025
In 2001, Oklahoma got its first Krispy Kreme store, and we lost our damn minds. The idea of waiting two or three hours for franchise food feels ancient to me now, like something you’d see in the Russian news in the 1990s. But scarcity value is a hell of a drug. Just ask In-N-Out Burger (fine, not great), White Castle (will defend it to my grave) and QT (for those of us who aren’t originally from Tulsa).
I’m a doughnut shop contrarian in that my usual order is an apple fritter, making me out of touch with what doughnuts and normal people are up to these days. This puts me deeply in tune, though, with the magic aura of exclusivity, because sometimes doughnut shops are out of apple fritters.
The original business model of Super Secret Donuts (a concept developed through Kitchen 66) was a soft launch with a sprinkle of exclusivity: a smattering of infrequent but bustling doughnut pop-ups with lots of buzz, lots of social media presence and very long lines.
“People are waiting in line for donuts? And what kind of company sells out of product 28 minutes after opening?” said a bewildered stranger on Reddit.
Touché, guy. Would I wait two hours in a Krispy Kreme drive-through line? No. And now that I’ve tried Super Secret Donuts, would I wait two hours for one? Still no … but I would wait in line.
Good news for me and Reddit guy: we don’t have to anymore. SSD now has a regular presence inside Foolish Things Coffee Co. downtown, so anyone can stroll in during the comparatively luxurious business hours of 8:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., Thursday through Sunday.
A pop-up restaurant has to tick a few boxes for me before I can get properly excited:
- Is it different than what I can get elsewhere?
- Is it better?
- If it’s more expensive, can I tell why?
In SSD’s case, the answers are: yes, yes and yes.
A great doughnut is greater than the sum of its parts, which is a dangerous equation to tamper with when there are only two parts: dough and glaze. SSD’s signature, the brown butter caramel, is wisely only a slight riff on this formula.
First off, the thing is huge. I have two full-sized adults in my household, both of us had just returned from the gym, and we were still unable to comfortably finish two SSDs and a sausage roll. (I, a martyr, uncomfortably finished them anyway.) I don’t balk at $5-ish a doughnut, but if you do, please know it’s about the size of two ordinary ones. Also, the brioche it’s made of is enriched with eggs, the price of which I would give anything to never think about again.
The glaze and caramel were tasty, with a slight crack from the glaze setting on a fresh fry. The browning of the caramel’s butter gave the sweetness a little depth, but the star of these doughnuts is the dough and not the nut. I’m an adept home cook and have made plenty of batches of brioche dough that weren’t aerated enough to be proud of, but this dough was perfectly risen, perfectly fried, like biting into what an idiot thinks a cloud feels like.
I also tried the strawberry Pop-Tart flavor, with a plain glaze and nonpareils, housing maybe a full quarter cup of strawberry preserves that tasted like fruit, as opposed to the mysterious clear goo that’s usually in a filled doughnut. This is the one that bested us, appetite-wise; it was like trying to eat four pieces of really nice toast with too much jam. Plus sprinkles.
Come for the donuts; stay for the sausage roll | photos by Becky Carman
What perplexes me the most about SSD is that they make the best sausage roll I have ever had. Instead of the lackluster pig-in-a-blanket approach, SSD creates the seasoning for a sausage produced by Siegi’s and houses it in a flaky, crispy dough; it’s closer to a Wellington than to a sausage roll. I’m pretty much over Everything Bagel Seasoning, and am not sure its use here is necessary, since the sausage seasoning is so dialed in. That said, SSD heated this thing for me before I drove away, and after smelling the toasted onion and so forth in my car on the short drive home, I did ponder my apathetic stance on it.
I can’t see myself visiting SSD again without buying one of those sausage rolls, even though it’s a doughnut shop and not a sausage shop. The sheer amount of effort that has gone into it—custom local sausage? elaborate dough crimping?—is something they should be proud of. The result on this item is exactly the sum of its parts. And the parts are exceptional.
There’s a reverse scarcity value effect, too, and it’s the reason people make fun of Hot-N-Ready pizzas (fine, not great), American cheese (will defend it to my grave) and OnCue (no comment. I’m newish here). Is SSD a pop-up restaurant anymore? Only kind of. Is it still a super secret? Nah. Should you get properly excited about it? Yes, if you think it’s good to have a little fun with your trash foods and a little whimsy with your fine ones.
