DOUGHNUTS!

Or “donuts”.  Whatever.  If you want American doughnuts in Saigon, you should probably pull the blinds and dust off your Smiths records.  Your future’s gonna involve some smeared mascara and disappointment.

Unless… [80s record-scratch noise]

That pristine vinyl copy of Hall & Oates’ H2O is ruined, but DonutMan’s smile makes it worth it

There’s this sweet joint up on 33 Nguyễn Thị Minh Khai in District 1 called, Fresh Donuts. I can’t guarantee their freshness (though, I’ll stake my reputation on their flyness), but they certainly taste potable-ish.  It’s like being all up in a Donutland, which only means something to you if you’re from Iowa.  If you’re not, I pity you and you should probably take a second to go look in a mirror and shake your head back and forth while tsk-tsk’ing.  Donutland’s Facebook page is as confusing as a convincing drag queen and only slightly more difficult to get straight answers from.  So, you can look ’em up and try to get a feel for what their doughnuts were like in those bygone days of redundant yore, but you’re probably gonna end up disappointed and guilted into a sex-act that you’ll only speak of later in the most abstract of terms.

Fresh Donuts is fucking great.  I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I had a passable powder doughnut.  Vietnam is good at a lot of some things, but doughnuts traditionally aren’t one of them.  Most doughnuts here have meat on them.  Like, they’re rolled in bacon crunchies or smeared with fish glands or ensconced in spicy chicken nuts and then glazed with chocolate-ish sauce (if you consider muddy wax a sauce) and, if you’re not diabetic yet, sprinkled with sprinkles.

Comas are for people too lazy to die

 

But Fresh Donuts is different.  They get points upfront for having doughnut names that don’t look like they were choked-out of Google translate with a turducken Double Down daisy-chain.  “Chocolate Do-nut” says one sign, “Bismarck with milk filling” says another.  I can wrap my brain around what they’re spraying there.  They got them jelly-filled, they got them Boston Cremes, they got them Bear Claws, they got them Bismarcks, and they even got them Donut-Holes.  Shit’s fire.  Powdered, sugary, creme-filled fire.

They ain’t perfect, though.  Their coffee totally sucks; it tastes like a diarrhetic, battery-eating camel’s taint-squeezings.  Their water is doughnut-flavored (what?), but they do right by the doughnuts and with a doughnut shop, that’s all that matters.
I’m serious about the doughnut-flavored water, too.   That’s a really good idea for getting fat kids to exercise.  Fat kids are an untapped market with all sorts of growth potential.  I firmly believe that every aspect of life and living should be turned into a commodity in order to generate profit because I’m an asshole who should kill himself.

This kid’s lunch is packed.
If I think too hard about how the doughnut-flavor got into the excessive-even-for-me amount of water I drank at Fresh Donuts that day, my gag reflex starts kicking-in, so I’m gonna stop.  Point being, if you’re in the tri-county area, you should get your ass all up ins some Fresh Donuts.  Just don’t drink the water (unless you like that sort of thing).  Here are some pictures of the Fresh Donuts and my tutoring kids:
60% of Children are happy with my tutelage
“Fresh delicious every day,” is what that shit says.  You’re welcome.

Anyway, Fresh Donuts.  33 Nguyễn Thị Minh Khai in District 1.  If you don’t get a full-on robot chubby from their doughnutty gravitas, I’ll have some evil robot usses go back in time and kill me before I write this blog entry.  Everybody wins!

So, check it out. Fresh Donuts is definitely worth a visit if you’ve got a deep-fried yen for fat-soaked, sugar-dusted dough.  Word.

 

Update: As of December 2015, the first doughnut-specific shop in Saigon  is closed.  I am sorry to say that many more, far crueler donut shops have taken its place to pass off oily pieces of puffed-up brown butcher’s paper as donuts.  They’re all over the flipping place.

3 thoughts on “Powerless In The Face Of Donuts

  1. Sir: I am one of the old people, driven out of hell each morning, who used to while away the early hours abusing my dentures with Donutland coffee and rancid stogies. If Satan has any ties to this establishment I will be in for a mug of hot doughnut water. If it occurs to you, please whisper the name Arlen Johnson into the men's room mirror three times with the lights off. Thank you.

  2. My dear friend, Arlen:

    I will most certainly do this thing you have asked of me. I will also inquire as to whether or not Fresh Donuts allows senior photography (of either variety).

Let me know what you think, yo.