Carmel’s Breadsong sells a doughnut sandwich, a rare listing outside of the carnival world.

Pebble Beach Food & Wine is a culinary all-star game, a lineup of big-name chefs who can even take a humble burger upscale. So it was no surprise to find Todd Fisher of Seaside’s The Meatery – a haven of marbled steaks and artisanal proteins in the guise of a simple butcher and deli – serving house-made duck sausages.

The presentation, however, caused a stir. A glazed doughnut formed the bun while a finishing touch of shaved truffle pushed it over boundaries – a dare dish, yet too refined for a carnival midway, Fisher intended the “donut duck dog” to attract attention.

April Hess of Breadsong, a bakery and deli in Carmel, understands why crowds gathered around The Meatery’s station. Her menu includes a “chicken bacon doughnut sandwich.”

Formed from a panko-breaded thigh, with bacon, pickled onions, dill pickles and a garlic-lemon aioli between sugared doughnut halves, you expect a carnival ride. But it is a composed sandwich.

Wisps of smoke from the bacon drift over the nutty crackle of the crust. The pickled toppings throw tangy darts at the palate, but these are blunted by the sauce and its mildly sour scowl. Fried in duck fat, the doughnut is like a pillow, its sweetness easing into the whole.

“The chicken bacon doughnut gets people in the door because they think it’s cool,” Hess observes. Standards, such as the classic turkey sandwich, are the deli’s best sellers, however.

It’s rare for a chef to bring fairground flair to a restaurant setting. The chicken bacon doughnut sandwich may be the most extraordinary fixture on a Monterey County menu. Chef Caleb Baker of Bayview Grill at Bayonet and Black Horse golf course in Seaside introduced “billionaires bacon,” which starts with a sous vide bath and ends with a dusting of edible gold.

Other rarities are still on the familiar side. Montrio in Monterey lists fish sticks – for adults – on the menu. At Oystertown in Monterey, Chef Philip Wojtowicz’s team puts together a tiramisu ice cream sandwich, with a drizzle of whisky-infused caramel sauce inspired by San Francisco Irish coffee emporium The Buena Vista.

Chefs tend not to disparage the wild creations associated with fairs and other events, such as strawberry pizzas or meats topped with ice cream.

“You’d be surprised how well some things go together,” says Matt Bolton, chef at C Restaurant + Bar on Cannery Row. Yet his most unusual preparation was a duck corn dog with a strawberry-rhubarb gastrique – at Pebble Beach Food & Wine.

“It was kind of fun,” he observes. “I’m more conservative on the restaurant menu. Deep-fried candy bars? I haven’t gone that far.”

A carnival setting puts an emphasis on speed and portability, leading to culinary innovations like spaghetti and meatballs on a stick that can be fried quickly and carried easily away. There is a more relaxed pace to a dining room.

But chefs point to other reasons why carnival fare rarely appears on menus. Fine dining kitchens prefer to showcase quality ingredients. Salt and pepper are enough for a prime cut of Wagyu beef. Smothering it in ice cream would be folly.

“We make our own sauces,” Hess says, noting the care taken for even simple items – slices of Wagyu for roast beef sandwiches, coffee beans roasted on site. “We try to have an artisan touch to everything.”

The delicate balance between food cost and profit margin also keeps wild impulses at bay. The crew at Breadsong make doughnuts each morning, so it’s not much of a stretch to use them for a sandwich. The Meatery, on the other hand, would have to bring in additional ingredients to turn the donut duck dog into a regular item.

So the fair-style wow factor is reserved for grabbing attention, either at a food festival crowded with similar vendors or as a special that might alert social media. And that’s actually the purpose of carnival food. The 1904 Word’s Fair is St. Louis is remembered not for its exhibitions, but for cotton candy, hot dogs and ice cream cones. The corn dog was introduced at a fair – Texas or Minnesota are the claimants. Cracker Jack was a hit at the 1893 World Expo in Chicago.

As Bolton notes, restaurant chefs must lean toward tradition and technique: “Michelle [Lee, C Restaurant’s pastry chef] has a little more fun.”