Counter-Point: I Can't Wait For Dunkin' Donuts
Right off the bat, let's get one thing out of the way.
Nothing you eat or drink at a Dunkin' Donuts will be the best ________ that you have ever consumed. The coffee is medium-bodied, medium strength and fairly tasty, but you will not be detecting hints of Nigerian elderberry or whatever douche-y tasting notes the new $7 blend at Intelligentsia cares to purport. The bagels are pretty good, the breakfast sandwiches are workmanlike, and the donuts, frankly, aren't that great. If you're eating in your car, you should not be concerned about having to swerve your vehicle onto the median in order to start calling your friends.
But that's the point. See, Dunkin' Donuts isn't some opportunistic gold-digger that only wants a piece of you when you're on top of the world. Let's face it, anyone that's ever humped a 9-to-5 knows that there are days, wretched, mid-week, hung-over days, where you don't have time for a full breakfast, but you'd sooner gouge your left eye out than plunk down ten freaking dollars for a "Venti" and some spinach-feta breakfast-wrap (that's also made in a microwave by the way, Nick).
Dunkin' Donuts is a true friend, the kind that's willing to be your friend even when you wake up on the bathroom floor with magic marker on your face and $3.74 in change in your pocket. In LA right now, where can you honestly say you can duck into for a quick, cheap commuter breakfast? Coffee Bean's great, if you have fifteen bucks and thirty-five minutes to kill waiting in line behind multiple old Persian people, and if you eat McDonald's breakfast more than one day a week, you ought to just start stockpiling extra insulin now for your exciting future as an obese diabetic. This is why you've ended up choking down a Sugar-Free Rockstar and a Zone bar while stuck on the 10 more mornings than you'd care to admit. Don't even try to deny it.
It's not about the donuts, and
as this article shows, the "corporate overlords" know this. Thus, Randy's, Stan's, and Winchell's really have nothing to worry about. They are truly donut shops, specialty bakeries that sell only or mostly donuts, and I wouldn't go there for a quick breakfast and a giant cup of coffee on-the-go any more than I'd go to
Pink Taco for tasteful, authentic Mexican food.
Closing Argument:
Is Dunkin' Donuts wildly overrated by some people? Sure, but so is In-N-Out, and that doesn't make the burger itself any less good. In a city obsessed with glitz and flash, maybe we can't support a humble, reliable coffee chain with no delusions of sophistication. But I'd like to think better of us. And when that first Dunkie's opens its doors to Southern California, welcoming
everyone regardless of status, wealth or privilege, I'll be proud to stand in that line of real Americans and order myself the biggest freaking Styrofoam cup of coffee they offer. To go, of course.
[photos via, via]
Right off the bat, let's get one thing out of the way. Nothing you eat or drink at a Dunkin' Donuts will be the best ________ that you have ever consumed. The coffee is medium-bodied, medium strength and fairly tasty, but you will not be detecting hints of Nigerian elderberry or whatever douche-y tasting notes the new $7 blend at Intelligentsia cares to purport. The bagels are pretty good, the breakfast sandwiches are workmanlike, and the donuts, frankly, aren't that great. If you're eating in your car, you should not be concerned about having to swerve your vehicle onto the median in order to start calling your friends.
But that's the point. See, Dunkin' Donuts isn't some opportunistic gold-digger that only wants a piece of you when you're on top of the world. Let's face it, anyone that's ever humped a 9-to-5 knows that there are days, wretched, mid-week, hung-over days, where you don't have time for a full breakfast, but you'd sooner gouge your left eye out than plunk down ten freaking dollars for a "Venti" and some spinach-feta breakfast-wrap (that's also made in a microwave by the way, Nick).
Dunkin' Donuts is a true friend, the kind that's willing to be your friend even when you wake up on the bathroom floor with magic marker on your face and $3.74 in change in your pocket. In LA right now, where can you honestly say you can duck into for a quick, cheap commuter breakfast? Coffee Bean's great, if you have fifteen bucks and thirty-five minutes to kill waiting in line behind multiple old Persian people, and if you eat McDonald's breakfast more than one day a week, you ought to just start stockpiling extra insulin now for your exciting future as an obese diabetic. This is why you've ended up choking down a Sugar-Free Rockstar and a Zone bar while stuck on the 10 more mornings than you'd care to admit. Don't even try to deny it.
It's not about the donuts, and as this article shows, the "corporate overlords" know this. Thus, Randy's, Stan's, and Winchell's really have nothing to worry about. They are truly donut shops, specialty bakeries that sell only or mostly donuts, and I wouldn't go there for a quick breakfast and a giant cup of coffee on-the-go any more than I'd go to Pink Taco for tasteful, authentic Mexican food.
Closing Argument:
Is Dunkin' Donuts wildly overrated by some people? Sure, but so is In-N-Out, and that doesn't make the burger itself any less good. In a city obsessed with glitz and flash, maybe we can't support a humble, reliable coffee chain with no delusions of sophistication. But I'd like to think better of us. And when that first Dunkie's opens its doors to Southern California, welcoming everyone regardless of status, wealth or privilege, I'll be proud to stand in that line of real Americans and order myself the biggest freaking Styrofoam cup of coffee they offer. To go, of course.
[photos via, via]
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