Yum Yum Donuts — Restaurant in San Diego

I always love the donuts here. As an out-of-towner I can admit that California donuts are superior to ALL DONUTS. And that's coming from a guy who used to live in NYC. Speaking of which, the last time I was traveling to Burbank for work (I'm an interior designer specializing in gold and wood) something incredible happened at this Yum Yum. I was staying at the hotel down the street and decided to take a walk one morning and ended up here. I got my usual, cinnamon and sugar and a black iced coffee and sat outside as it was a perfect morning. I was about half way through my donut when I noticed a beautiful mother with her newborn baby waiting at the cross walk to head to my side of the street. Have you ever had an experience where you just see someone and get this overwhelming feeling that you've wasted your life without them in it. That feeling crashed into me like an 18-wheeler. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The light turned green for her and she began crossing. It looked like she was floating across the street to me. She was the most elegant thing I had ever seen. The thick blond curls of her long hair bounced with her movements. Her legs moved under her like they knew how proud they should be to be a part of this woman. She noticed me staring and she smiled and quickly looked away. As she headed into Yum Yum she look at me and said "Good morning bud". Bud!? It felt like she had known me my whole life. I couldn't say anything back to her. I was frozen. While she was in ordering, I snapped out of my stupor and I did something I never do. I got courage! I got up and went back into the shop. She was in the middle of asking for a plain glazed. "Are you in a hurry?" I asked. She turned around and looked at me, not sure what to think. "No not really." she said. "Just Saturday morning donut run!" Her voice. It was rich and textured and perfect. "Would you like to share my table outside?" She didn't even hesitate and said sure. I went outside and waited for them. They came out, donuts and milk in arms and sat at the picnic table. The sound of cars driving by faded and it was silent. Just her. She introduced herself. I told her my name. And then we barreled into conversation like we had been old friends. My spirit knew that I knew her already. Like we had been separated an eternity ago in some other place, some other world. Our words came out like breath, the most natural thing we had ever done. We laughed. We stared. She told me about her family. Her husband. Her new baby boy. She told me about the books she was reading. She was trying to learn about string theory and lost me several times trying to map the theory out for me as simply as she could. She told me about her music, her art, where she grew up. I answered the best I could when she asked me questions but I just wanted to listen to her. I didn't exist anymore. I didn't want to. I just wanted to be a part of her. I knew she would have to go soon and I wanted to get her number, her email, anything so I could never let her go. I would have done anything to make that morning last forever. She said it was time for the little guy to nap and she needed to leave. She paused. Then she said, "I know I shouldn't be saying this. But do you feel that? Like we KNOW each other? Like we always have?" The air around me disappeared. I felt a weight in my chest like the weight of existence. I couldn't respond in words. Tears came rushing to my eyes. She saw and immediately reached across the table and embraced me. "You feel it too" she whispered to me. "What happens next?" I asked. She didn't respond. She took my face in her hands, her soft and capable hands, and she kissed me. "Now we know, bud. Now we know." She stared into my eyes. "We did nothing to find each other this time. We don't need to do anything to find each other again." I nodded and cried. She kissed me again. And then she left. I saw her look back at me from across the street. I can't wait to see her again. And now I know I will...

In 1971, Philip C. Holland started Yum Yum Donut Shops, Inc. The first shop was a former Orange Julius in Highland Park, California. This shop is still in operation and is one of the highest volume shops in the chain.

Phil had become familiar with the donut business through a friend who owned a shop. He had also spent time in North Carolina working with Vernon Rudolph, the founder of Krispy Kreme Donuts.

By 1973, Phil had three Yum Yum donut shops and was anxious to expand. Frank Watase joined as an equal partner.

Since donut shops are open 7 days a week, Phil and Frank put in endless amounts of time and effort to operate the shops and develop new locations. Because of their experiences building the business through hard work and dedication, Yum Yum has a very strong work ethic throughout the organization...

Picked up a half dozen donuts for after dinner only to notice that my wife and 2 year old nephew were eating a raw cinnamon roll. We went back around 1:30am to let them know that it was raw, they treated us like we were crazy the guys tore the donut apart just to make sure it was raw because they didn’t believe us. They made it look like I tried to steal something form them and they kept my receipt. I wasn’t trying to make a big deal over a $2 cinnamon roll I was trying to make sure they knew so they wouldn’t sell it to more people and...