Spudnights
by AnnaLiese Burich ‘17
Saturday. 2 am. If you’re Taylor Swift, at 2 am, you’re in your car, with windows down (you pass my street, the memories start). If you go to USC, at 2 am, you’re probably in Spudnuts Donuts. Should you never have had the pleasure of attending this incredibly fine establishment in the ever-classy strip mall (at the corner of 28th and Fig), boy, are you missing out.
Disclaimer: Neither of these are an actual donut—they’re an apple fritter and cronut, respectively. But they’re still perfection, trust me.
Spudnuts donuts differ from regular donuts in their secret-ingredient potato flour, based on a German folk recipe. Now, I had sampled almost every kind of donut from Spudnuts before I found this out, and I honestly couldn’t remember if they tasted different than a regular donut, but however they’re made, they’re made gooood. And I know good donuts—the most sacred object that my family worships on Christmas Day is a Big Box of Donuts. We’re donut people.
Disclaimer: Not a member of my actual family, and not taken on Christmas Day. But this captures the essence of Christmas, I think.
And Spudnuts does donuts well. One fine Sunday morning, in a moment of sheer insanity, I once downed four donuts in a row. In my defense, they were different flavors. It was a field study, okay? I have to find my Spudnut niche!
For that’s the beauty of Spudnuts: it’s a forum—perhaps the only forum—in which you can truly express yourself. Spudnuts allows you to be you. With each bite of warm, crispy-on-the-outside, fluffy-on-the-inside goodness, you feel your self-worth growing. You feel your blood sugar rising, and with it, your confidence. Thus, it is of the upmost importance that you have a signature flavor. How else will anyone understand you? For example, my best friend is a maple donut: she is warm, homey, and east-coasty. Serious quote from her from two seconds ago: “Maple is who I am.” My other friend is a vanilla sprinkles cake donut, because she is dense (meaning that she has depth, not that she’s stupid), sweet on the inside (with a down-to-earth vanilla edge), and is always dressed impeccably (sprinkles make everything look better).
As for me? Even after my four-donut experiment, I still don’t know what I am. I still don’t know who I am. But hey, don’t worry about me—I have big plans to try chocolate, and I think it may be The One.
But, even beyond the donuts (if you can bear to tear your eyes away from the donut 6 inches in front of your face), Spudnuts’ other draw is that it is open 24/7. And, for people watcher/self-proclaimed sociologists like me, the post-midnight clientele is veritable feast.
Which item shall you pick from the people menu: the local youths (presumably of the non-gang variety), or the hungry stoners? The post-sorority inviters with their beautiful heels and sparkly dresses, or the post-paint-party goers with their white clothes covered in paint? The random fifty-year old men having a quiet conversation in the corner at 2 am, or the hipsters in their jean jackets and flannels? (PS: that’s me) (PPS: Don’t touch me, paint people).
Spudnuts has everything. Spudnuts is everything. While you may think I’m joking (and while I mostly am), next time you go to place your order, just remember my words. Remember to find yourself. Remember to look around you. Remember to live.
The happiest of customers!
