There's a donut place about three miles from my house. It's owned and operated by a Cambodian couple who have been making people happy now for about ten years. The husband makes the donuts out back and the wife serves them up at the counter...and there is only a counter...no tables, just that one counter where six or eight early morning reattributes sit and stuff donuts in their mouths and drink endless cups of coffee.
The location of this donut shop is lousy. The place itself was probably once a tiny fast food joint before it became donut heaven. Forget foot traffic. Across the street, far across a huge parking lot, sits a thrift shop. Further down is an auto parts store. In fact the entire area surrounding donut heaven resembles Detroit at its ugliest.
Yet this Cambodian couple are doing just fine in the donut business. They open at 6AM and close no later than 2PM...or earlier if the donuts sell out. They have no drive-thru so you've got to go in and sniff the donuts being made out back...that heavenly scent seemingly never fails to generate a doubling of your donut order. Customer service? Think a slightly nice version of "soup nazi." The couple don't smile much; they bag or box your donuts, take your money and even sometimes say thanks.
I try to avoid this place like the plague. I'm so glad that it's three miles away and wish it were located even further out. You have to taste their donuts to understand this. Their glazed donuts are light and airy and just melt in your mouth, the glaze resting on your tongue and leaving you lusting for the next one. The cake donuts are light and fluffy and their icings are creamy and not sickeningly sweet and their apple fritters are to die for.
Once a month or so, usually on a Saturday morning, I'll stick a glass in the freezer so it will ice up really nice, then jump into the car and drive out to the donut place and cop a bag of six of these heavenly delights. Even though it is cheaper to buy a dozen I don't trust myself with a dozen, so I won't buy the dozen. Three glaze, two apple fritters and a buttermilk donut and I take them home, pull out that frosted glass and fill it with milk and scarf down three glazed donuts. Then I spend the rest of the day hearing those last three donuts calling out to me.
When we all get to heaven we'll get to eat all the donuts and cold milk we want and never have to worry about gaining weight, or cholesterol. For now I'm trying hard to keep my distance from that Cambodian couple.
