Growing up on the East Coast I recognized early in life that doughnut culture orbited around the sugary planet called “Dunkin Donuts.” Some of my earliest memories were commercials featuring a gentlemen (who resembled both Super Mario and Hitler) who would exclaim softly through a grin, “it’s time to make the donuts.” Los Angeles didn't seem to have an equivalent character, nor a universally agreed upon doughnut hub. I observed the undiscerning masses finding satisfaction in the city's numerous, tiny independent doughnut shops (whose wares looked to all have rolled off the same assembly line in Palmdale.) But it didn’t take long to figure out that the most prominent doughnut in LA was three stories tall and stale as hell (see picture above.)
