Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Colorado Donuts in Eagle Rock
Toasted coconut donut.
It's a cold world. Who cares whether you live or die? Who cares if you continue to fall, ever further, into the abyss?
Let's take a moment to appreciate Colorado Donuts (Colorado & Townsend). If, as I have, over the past year or so, you have run Doomsday scenarios through your mind, trying to figure out how long you could last on your savings, if you sold all your books, sold your car and started riding the bus, if you pawned your musical instruments and sporting equipment, etc., perhaps you factored in the cost of keeping yourself alive. Well factor this in: you can eat a decent meal at Colorado Donuts almost anytime for $3.25.
Yes, this place sells donuts and crullers and things like that. And they are fine. They are good. They are like the donuts at any of the thousand other donut shops in L.A. (Does L.A. have the greatest number of donut shops per capita of any U.S. city? Has anyone studied this?) That's not what I'm here to discuss.
Turkey sandwich on French bread.
Colorado Donuts offers the best value for a meal of any place I know in Eagle Rock. For $3.25 to $3.50 you can get a freshly made sandwich on French bread, a croissant, or a bagel, with turkey, tuna, ham, etc., topped with cheese, mayo, mustard, peppers, lettuce, onions, etc. And it will be a good sandwich. The croissant sandwich in particular is surprisingly good and rivals sandwiches you would get for twice the price elsewhere. It won't be a gourmet sandwich on "rustic" bread with "rustic" ingredients like "free range" turkey or "heirloom" tomatoes, but it will be satisfying, it will be freshly made, and it will be cheap.
You and your significant other can eat dinner (with tap water) for about $7.50, total. And it's healthier and tastier than Taco Bell or other crap in the price range. And it'll be made for you right there, by the unfailingly friendly people at Colorado Donuts. They are there late, every night, after other food options in Eagle Rock close at their absurdly early Florida-retirement-community hours, ready to happily make you a cheap, fairly healthy and satisfying sandwich.
Sure, this is a place that has a wall of scratch offs that regulars spend hours wasting their dwindling dollars on. Sure, walking into the place can make you feel like you are showing up at the unemployment office to register for benefits. Still, there have been nights where the warmth of Colorado Donuts and the people working there (an Asian family) have -- after I've come from driving through the empty, soulless streets of a dystopic late night in Los Angeles -- made my eyes misty with gratitude.
There is always hope. It's some comfort to know that you can survive on perfectly decent $3.25 sandwiches while you rebuild, maintain some dignity, and have some warm human contact with people who will remember you, remember the way you like your sandwich, and who will offer you a genuine smile with your food at your darkest hour -- when you most need it.
Long live Colorado Donuts.