This is the first installment of our "Open Road" summer series, which takes a look at some of our state's hidden (and not-so-hidden) treasures. Look for it every Tuesday.
CAROLINA BEACH -- Traveling 129 miles from Raleigh to the beach to try an 80-cent doughnut is to put faith in those who have come before, to trust in their ability to judge grease and glaze.
Because even with rhapsodic testimonials posted across the Internet, driving that far to eat Britt's Donuts is a gamble because there are nochoices. If you prefer chocolate, and your buddy eats jelly-filled, that's fine, but you can't have either. Britt's sells only fried glazed doughnuts.
There is a simple reason for this, insists owner Bobby Nivens.
"When we get busy," he says of his airy, hand-cut delicacies, "we don't have time for other doughnuts."
After the first one, you might not either.
Sold warm and served in a white paper sack, the doughnut has welcomed visitors to the Carolina Beach boardwalk since 1939. Nivens bought the business in 1974 from originator H.L. Britt.
Nivens knew the tiny kitchen well, having worked there in the '50s while in high school. Today, at 71, Nivens very literally makes the doughnuts the same way he did as a teenager. The recipe has not changed. He uses the same rolling pin.
On Saturday, the small stand opened its dual garage doors to welcome regulars and first-timers alike. Maureen Bannon, who lives near Charlotte, stopped by with friends enjoying a girls weekend to try the famous doughnut she'd heard so much about. Was it worth it?
"Oh my God, yes," she says. "You'll probably see us again in a few hours."
The doughnut has devoted fans, but Nivens isn't the sort of cook who shares his techniques with friends. Only he and his wife, Maxine, know the exact recipe. One of them has to mix the dough so the employees can make the doughnuts. Even their daughter isn't privy to the doughnut's innards, although she knows where the recipe is written down in case anything happens to the secret-keepers.
Nivens dreamed years ago of expanding his deep-fried empire to include shops in other cities, but he eventually decided against the plan. Money, he says, isn't everything. Plus he and Maxine enjoy their time off, which is pretty much October through March.
The shop opens at 8:30 a.m. every day during the summer. It closes each night when business slows, and Nivens never shuts the garage doors if there are people in line.
"I don't want to get killed," he says, laughing.
