The Last Cheap Thing in Los Angeles
The Los Angeles Letter
You can still get one for less than two bucks. In Los Angeles, two dollars might get you four minutes on a parking meter, 1/5 of a latte at Erewhon, or a single slice of avocado in your poke bowl. But for two dollars, even if you leave the change in the tip jar, you can have the complete and transformative experience of a donut.
Donuts are round because the industrial logic of the machine that made them demanded it. But they’re also symbolic. That unbroken ring is self-contained, infinite, and familiar, whether you order yours in the South Bay or Silverlake. It’s a shape that quietly insists on comfort. Predictable. Cheap. Good.
The most recognizable donut shop in L.A. is Randy’s, thanks to its rooftop monument, a 32-foot fiberglass ring that’s more sculpture than signage. It was immortalized in Randy Newman’s 1983 music video for “I Love LA,” which became the unofficial anthem of the 1984 Olympics. The donut went global not by taste but by iconography.
Randy’s didn’t just show up one day. The story starts in 1920s New York with Adolph Levitt, a Russian immigrant selling hot donuts from a street cart. They were such a hit that he built a machine to keep up with the crowds. That invention helped turn donuts from a local treat into a national habit, laying the groundwork for chains like Krispy Kreme in the 1930s and Dunkin’ Donuts in the 1950s. Out west, a donut machine salesman named Russell Wendell came looking for clients and became one instead. He opened The Big Donut Drive-In, and its second location, crowned with the giant donut, became the most famous. He later sold the shop to Robert Eskow, who renamed it Randy’s Donuts after his son.
While Randy’s became a symbol, another empire was quickly rising in the San Gabriel Valley. Verne Winchell, a jukebox salesman, dreamed of opening a hamburger stand but settled on coffee and donuts—they were cheaper to make and required fewer ingredients. His chain, Winchell’s, expanded through franchising, attracting ambitious immigrants and small business owners. By the 1970s, it had more than 1,000 locations and shaped the look and feel of the modern West Coast donut shop: glass cases, neon signs, 24-hour hours, and a pot of coffee that never ran out.
Then came Ted Ngoy.
In 1975, following the fall of Saigon, the United States accepted over 100,000 refugees from Southeast Asia. One of them was Ngoy, who, along with his wife and children, was temporarily housed at Camp Pendleton. He took on odd jobs, enrolled in Winchell’s “Donut School,” and quickly rose to become a store manager. In 1977, he bought Christy’s Donuts in La Habra, living with his family in a motorhome and using it to scout new locations. Donuts were, and still are, a low-margin business, but Ngoy turned every aspect into a cost-saving opportunity. Some credit him with introducing the now-ubiquitous pink donut box, a cost-saving move that used leftover cardboard and came to symbolize California’s mom-and-pop donut shops. Over time, Ngoy sponsored dozens of relatives and fellow Cambodian refugees, helping them buy, run, and expand their donut shops. By some estimates, over 2,500 independent donut shops in Southern California trace their lineage back to him.
You’re welcome to call anything a donut these days. You can cover a cake in cereal, drizzle it in matcha, wedge it between bacon strips, and call it brunch. Just don’t expect me to agree. These are not donuts. They are pastry cosplay. Of course, there are a great. many things I wish were different in this world. No one listens to me, nor should they.
The beauty of the donut is in its simplicity. And yes, I know, it’s sugar and fat. It’s not a health food. That’s okay. Plenty of things will kill me before the occasional donut does.
The best donuts are found at the place closest to home. A place you can get to and back while they’re still warm. You eat one, and for a moment, you remember how to enjoy things. You worry less. For me, that place is Granny’s Donuts in San Pedro. There were others in my childhood, but many are gone now. Granny’s carries on, offering a solid chocolate cake donut: unadorned, unbothered, and exactly what I need.
xAP
Thanks Ante Love donuts ! Anytime anywhere ! ❌⭕️💯❤️👍🏻
Great piece and you truly did your research, growing up in Inglewood as a child , indeed we went to the Big Donut, with another one Century Blvd East of Western Ave! Fun times ! 🍩