Dead Horse Donuts add sweet option for Palmer area

A new donut shop is serving up delicious treats in downtown Palmer.

After a “soft” opening in October, Dead Horse Donuts officially opened its doors the second week of November. Located on Cobb Street where Feather and Flour formerly operated, the new store brings together creativity and entrepreneurship.

Under the experienced oversight of owner Heather Greenwood, Dead Horse Donuts offers something new to Palmer. A 2010 graduate of Mat-Su Career and Technical High School, Greenwood formerly showcased her considerable culinary chops in her role as executive chef and co-owner of Feather and Flour.

Despite a strong local following and nearly unanimous rave reviews from diners, the restaurant closed out its three-year run in October. Greenwood and co-owner Lucas Hyce listed the building for sale, but still had to pay the bills.

“The food industry, in general, is hard. We were able to just get by for three years,” she said. “We knew we had to change and do something that would be sustainable for the winter.”

Donuts seemed like the answer. They also marked a return to Greenwood’s earlier days in the hospitality industry, when she worked as a baker in North Slope camp kitchens after graduating from culinary school in Arizona.

In her first Slope job, Greenwood learned to make donuts.

That experience led her to her first dip in the self-employment pool. She bought a food truck and launched her first donut business, I DoughKnow.

“I came back to donuts thinking this is what the Valley needs,” she said.

But Greenwood concedes that later experiences, first as chef at The Grape Tap in Wasilla, and later at Feather and Flour, changed her passion for food.

“I don’t identify as a baker anymore,” she said. “Savory is my love language. Baking is too by the book for me.”

That doesn’t show in the finished product or the customer response. Despite posted hours of 7 a.m. to 1 p.m., the business is often closed early because the 40 or so dozen donuts Greenwood makes daily sell out before closing time.

Dye-free ingredients, organic flour and glazes made from pure chocolate and heavy cream, without a trace of corn syrup, elevate the finished product.

“I’m conscious of making something I believe in. So there’s nothing fake in them,” Greenwood said. “These donuts are pretty niche. They’re for people who care about what they’re putting in their bodies.”

Those better ingredients also elevate the price. At $4.25 apiece or $45 for a dozen, these are not like what is sold at grocery stores.

But Greenwood said it’s important to her that customers understand why the prices are higher.

“I have to price them for what my costs are,” she said. “I understand that it’s jarring, but margins are small. I’m just trying to stay afloat and pay my bills at the end of the day.”

Assisting in that task, are some familiar faces. The entire staff are holdovers from Feather and Flour, something Greenwood said is a function of her philosophy about taking care of the hired help in a way she always wanted to be treated when she was in their position.

“They’re the best,” she said. “Our philosophy going in was to treat people right. That was a value we weren’t willing to compromise on.”

As for the donuts, there’s always a good assortment to choose from. New menus are posted weekly on Dead Horse Donuts’ Facebook and Instagram, and the business website has a sample menu. People have an option to call ahead and preorder.

Greenwood said she keeps a core bunch of regular flavors that are always in demand – a cinnamon roll, a maple bar, glazed, and chocolate sprinkle. The other options are rotated in roughly biweekly.

One of the newer flavors available this week is brown butter pecan. Strawberry rhubarb lemonade is also a popular featured flavor.

“I always try to have something seasonal or new and exciting that will keep people coming back,” she said.

As someone born at the old Palmer Hospital who has spent most of her life in the Mat-Su, Greenwood said doing business in Palmer is special for her.

“It feels like my community,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing this anywhere else.”