The Donut Hut

My visit home started with a visit to a childhood favorite, the Donut Hut.  I told one of my friends here that I was just so excited about this, and the response was, "Wait, you like donuts?  But, um, you never eat them."

She's right---but there's room in my life for nostalgic donut binges every once in a while, hey?

Now, Saturdays growing up were a sacred time at our house.  My brother and I would wake up early to watch cartoons in our PJs, and my dad would take one of use to Donut Hut around 8 am, making sure to get back in time to have bacon ready for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at 9 am.  And then I'd patiently wait for the funnies section in the newspaper...cause no one touched that thing until both mom and dad were finished, house rules.

Located in an unassuming strip mall, Donut Hut is the best of old school donut-ry.  Bear claws, the most wonderful apple fritters, cake donuts doused in sprinkles, and raspberry-filled sugar-covered donuts.  So good.  [also...the old guys sitting in there drinking coffee thought I was a nutter for bringing out a camera.  Ah well]

Those white boxes make me so nostalgic, I can't even tell you.

My dad's car, a Chevy Suburban from the 80s.  Yes.  It's the same age I am.  But do not fret, it does have power steering.