7249 Van Nuys Blvd, phone 818/908-9113, www.krispykreme.com Just north of Sherman Way on the west side of the street (look for the line and general commotion)
I know these have had a lot of hype, but they are just the best doughnuts in the whole damned world. And they know how to spell doughnuts, and that makes me proud indeed. They have a drive through, and they probably even spell it that way. But you won't want to use it, even though you live in L.A.
I first tasted Krispy Kreme doughnuts after reading an article in Esquire about the guy who bought the Western franchises after he'd tasted one and declared it the best doughnut he'd ever tasted (and apparently he was some kind of connoisseur). But the store was in Vegas. My mother went and the cab driver took her off the meter and had doughnuts with her and a friend when they got there. FINALLY one of my friends brought some back from Vegas, we microwaved them and declared: "WE ONLY HAVE ONE BOX??!!!"
And then it happened. Driving home one day we noticed a sign. Krispy Kreme. Coming to Van Nuys Blvd, right up the street. We drove past it time and again, pacing, waiting, wondering...our neighbor Bill braved the long lines at the new store and came out with 3 dozen doughnuts. He didn't know what to do with them. That was a shame, we said, and helped him right out.
I have never tasted a doughnut like this. They are soft and sugary on the outside and just as light as a feather on the inside. I have theorized that the key might be gluten-free flour, but truly I have no idea. Going there is so cool: they have a long, glass encased assembly line that shows the doughnuts pretty much from start to finish, baking in a commercial oven (that looks like it's just taking the doughnuts around in an elevator), flopping them into the fryer and turning them (sounds gross, and usually I would really object to this, but it's fascinating) and finally through the sugar waterfall and into the boxes. They have a guy whose job it is to purge the rejects, and we stood with baited breath as one lone doughnut missed the turnover, and sat in the fryer with one albino side exposed in a sea of newly tanned gems. He got it. Whew! We got them hot off the line and I have to say it was difficult beyond all reason to control ourselves. My sister and I literally sat on our hands after one while Steven and my father ate 3 each, saying through muffled mouths "have another!" (they bought two boxes).
Steven had frozen two of them (people have this idea that they have to be eaten within some kind of secret time limit, but not so - they freeze really well and thaw at 10-15 seconds - no waiting!), got out one, and at the moment of triumph when he lined up his plate, napkin and drink, it fell on the floor. He made a sound not unlike the screech of a car right before it hits another: that wail of hopelessness that echoed off all 1,000 square feet of house. Tragedy. On impact, the doughnut had instantly shed it's magic sugarcoat, creating a mess both in his lap and on the floor. "Pick it up!" I said laughing, "It's probably still good!" (You know, if it's only on the floor a second, it doesn't count). "Ohhhh, it doesn't matter," he said, dejectedly lifting the morsel. "I'm not cleaning this up until I eat it," he declared and our dog eats more slowly. Then he went to the freezer to claim his consolation prize: the other, cryogenically perfect, sugarcoated Krispy Kreme. You have been warned.