Junk Foodie

DD's donuts are shaped like classic cop-killers but that's about all they have in common. Pastry pimp Sara Spearin churns out gourmet 'nuts in flavors like lemon thyme, caramel fleur-de-sal, and bacon-apple with maple glaze?.hmmmmmmm.

Forget Reese's. The perfectly salty-sweet peanut butter cup at Spork gets a scoop of vanilla ice cream, bananas and salted peanuts, before being drizzled with caramel--on the health-o-meter, equivalent to dipping your cigarette in cyanide, but somewhat more tasty.

These aren't the churros you begged your mom for at Six Flags--they're even better. The fried fritters are dusted with cinnamon sugar and come with a cup of thick, rich Mexican hot chocolate for dipping.

The make-your-own S'mores at Luna Park put the campfire variety to shame. You'll get a small cauldron of molten dark chocolate topped with perfectly golden melted marshmallows to dip your gourmet graham crackers in.

Unlike the gel-filled cardboard Pop Tarts that have malnourished American children for decades, Foreign Cin's is a delicate, fresh-baked pastry stuffed with organic house-made preserves of apple, apricot, cherry, wild blueberry, cherry and mango.

There isn't anything gourmet about the deep-fried Twinkie at Butter, but anything this breathtakingly unhealthy must be tried. The twink is battered, rolled in graham cracker and fried, eaten and immediately regretted.

This Mission ice cream parlor churns out classic American-style ice cream in extremely unclassic flavors like Guinness gingerbread, balsamic caramel and foie gras--the frozen equivalent of a fat kid wearing a beret.