Blue Dot Donuts

As stated in a previous post, Blue Dot is a new addition to the restaurant row, having been opened only last year. The building it occupies, however, is one typical of the area, dating back to at least 1908, when it first shows up on the Sanborn maps as a storefront. The building has been converted at least twice since then: in 1940 it was divided into a store and two living apartments (a difficult arrangement to imagine if you have seen the size of the building). It now stands proudly radiating blue into the neighborhood, calling people to come and clog their arteries on delicious donuts which are made entirely on site, including any icings.

I have been inside twice: one weekend at dawn in March, and yesterday at around 10:30 in the morning, both times accompanied by my roommate, Katie. At dawn, we had the place to ourselves. There were only two teenagers behind the counter and everything was fresh and clean and quiet.

Not so at 10:30. When we arrived, there were people sitting at two outdoor tables and two indoor tables and the line went out the door. Two middle-aged men came around the counter to have a chat with a customer while the four teenage workers hustled to get everyone served in a timely fashion.

The table at which Katie and I sat was under a window which, in true New Orleans style, had wrought iron decorations doing double duty as a security devise. The shape of the building is long and narrow like a typical New Orleans shotgun house and the outdoor tables are the metal kind you see in front of any of the areas restauraunts, but the decorations are of a style all its own. All of the walls are painted blue, inside and out. A blue light glows in the window at night. There are pictures of donuts on the walls. The curtains are white with a blue spotted pattern. Even the indoor light fixtures are blue and round.

This cozy shop is a great addition for those in the neighborhood who need a quick, delicious breakfast on the go. If you’re really in a hurry, though, you may want to get there a bit early: the lines will be shorter and you’ll be more certain to get your hands on a bacon-covered long john!

Doson Noodle House

Doson is a small Vietnamese restaurant whose existance I had not noticed before this project. (Granted, even though I live in the area, I had not noticed most of the restaurants or shops here.) One evening in February, my older sister Natalie, her three-year-old daughter Rita, and I decide to try it out.

The exterior is fairly plain, but the interior is decorated in an Asian theme with accents such as a fat Buddha and Asian writing on the windows and menues.

When we enter, there is one group of 3 UNO students whom I recognize but do not know personally at a table near the door, one middle-aged couple against the right wall, and one young Asian girl doing homework at the table nearest the kitchen. She looks bored.

Our waiter is an Asian man in his late teens/early twenties. He is extremely friendly and attentive to everyone in the restaraunt and speaks English with no accent. The only other employee that we see is another waitress. We do not hear her speak much, but she does not appear to have an accent, either.

The waiter sees that I am carrying a child and starts to ask if we need a seat for her, then notices that she is sleeping. We tell him that she will not need a seat. He directs us to a four-person table against the left wall.

The waiter brings us water and takes our drink orders. (We try to wake Rita. She is shy of the waiter, who tried to talk to her, nods to indicate that she is, in fact, hungry, and immdiately falls back asleep.) Once we order, our rolls are brought out fairly quickly, but the noodles take more time. When the waiter brings us the rolls, he smiles, gives a friendly comment, and leaves. The waitress happens to pass just then and sees that we do not have chopsticks and offers us some.

The noodles are served in very generous proportions. As a broke college kid, I am excited that I will have leftovers, though I begin to regret eating almost an entire tray of brownies that afternoon. We try once more to wake Rita enough to eat something, but she remains slumped in my lap and mostly unresponsive.

The middle-aged couple left before we had even ordered. The college kids left in the time between recieving our rolls and our noodles. While we were eating our noodles, another group of two, who I did not get a good look at, was seated at their table. They were served water, but slipped out before ordering in a moment when the water and waitress were in the back. The waiter jokingly pouted at having been abandoned.

We eat as much of the noodles as we can, but there is still a bounteous amount on our plates. We ask for the check and go-boxes. The check comes with fortune cookies. My sister pays and we leave. The waiter bids us a friendly farewell. Rita doesn’t wake up until we put her in the car.

Overall, the restaurant had a quiet but friendly atmosphere. I can’t attest to its busier hours, but it was a very pleasant place to have a quiet meal with family.