Miss Mini Donuts
Miss Mini Donuts is owned by restauranteur Leslie Nguyen. (Photo/Kirsten Gilliam).
Mini donuts have a lot going for them. They’re cute. They’re delicious. And in the case of Leslie Nguyen, owner of Miss Mini Donuts, they’re life savers.
The Vine chatted with Nguyen about her path to entrepreneurship, her passion for donuts, and her openness with mental health.
Nguyen is decisive. After getting laid off from a bartending gig due to the owners going through a divorce, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She bought the Symposium Wine Bar and turned it into the Daily Dose Sports Lounge in Irvine. She threw herself into the small establishment.
Nguyen’s diminutive donuts allow one to sample multiple flavors without succumbing to a food coma. A box of twenty-five donuts includes five different flavors to sample.
“When I met John [Reed], who's my current partner, he was like, ‘You are doing everything,’” recalls Nguyen. “Because I didn't have money, I didn't have employees. It was literally just me and this other girl by ourselves doing security, cooking, and bartending.”
The cooking was particularly challenging for Nguyen. She had to improvise with what she had.
“My kitchen was literally the size of a closet, and it wasn't a real kitchen,” says Nguyen. “It had a convection oven and a little sandwich station, but it didn't have a hood or stove or anything you can really cook with. So we had to get creative with our bar snacks.”
When she didn’t have her hands full at the sports bar, Nguyen was selling donuts at music festivals. It started as a side hustle inspired by her friend, Vincent Capizzi.
“When I met Vinny [Capizzi], I wanted to do donuts,” says Nguyen. “But I didn't know where or how I was going to do it because we didn't have a store location. When I found out about his festival business, I asked him, ‘If I bought a donut machine, can I do donuts at your festivals?’”
Capizzi has a hand in providing large music festivals with trash, food, and beverage services. It dawned on Nguyen that frying fresh donuts at the festivals could generate a lot of attention.
“My whole draw of being at the festivals was people seeing the machine in action because it's the cutest thing,” Nguyen says. “It's a little conveyor of donuts that pop out, and then flip over. So it's really fun to watch the whole thing being made. And people would come to the booth because they want to see it being made.”
Nguyen knew from the get-go that she wanted her donuts to be small.
“I wanted mini donuts, because when I eat, I like to eat a variety of flavor,” says Nguyen. “I don't want to commit to one whole big donut. If you have little ones, that way you can eat all different flavors and won’t feel as guilty.”
After Nguyen bought a machine to make mini donuts, she needed to choose her donut flavors. With the pressure of making fresh donuts on the spot, Nguyen had to keep it quick and simple.
“When I started, I did cinnamon sugar and powdered sugar,” Nguyen says. “Then it got too busy, so I just did cinnamon sugar.”
After fire safety code rules changed and Nguyen’s donut machine was deemed a potential fire hazard, she needed to pivot. She could no longer fry her donuts on site, but she could decorate them ahead of time and explore more flavors.
“Four or five years ago there was a law that changed where you couldn't fry under the tent that I normally fry under,” explains Nguyen. “So then when the fire inspection team said, ‘You can't fry here,’ I was devastated. I sat with my girls and said, ‘Okay, we're going to make actual flavors instead of the cinnamon sugar. Let’s see if we can draw people with the flavors instead.’”
Instead of setting out donuts out in neat rows, Nguyen displayed mounds of mini donuts drizzled with frosting and tossed in toppings.
“It looked like a donut sundae,” says Nguyen.
While the donut business at music festivals filled Nguyen’s free time, her day to day work at the Daily Dose Sports Longue left her unsatisfied. Six years into the venture, Nguyen wanted more.
Nguyen’s favorite donut flavor is Oreo.
“We always had dreams of having a bigger kitchen,” Nguyen says. “So we were actually going to go into a space with the Irvine Company off of Alton and Jamboree. Literally we were about to sign the contract. And our friend [Capizzi] called. He's like, ‘Don't sign your lease. I just bought the nightclub Ten and there's a restaurant that’s empty. You should put your concept there.’”
That concept became Bosscat Kitchen & Libations, a restaurant and bar serving American comfort food and holding monthly whiskey tastings.
“I never intended to be a restaurant owner,” says Nguyen. “I just had bar experience. But the chef [Peter Petro] gave life to our food.”
While Bosscat Kitchen & Libations grew in popularity, Nguyen began selling her donuts at the restaurant through her company, Miss Mini Donuts. Without the constraints of operating at music festivals, Nguyen found that she could explore flavor combinations that sparked delight for her customers.
“I wanted to create flavors that appealed to everyone and brought you back to your childhood,” says Nguyen. “I wanted fun childhood candies. Obviously Oreos. That's my personal favorite. Fruity Pebbles is another food that’s nostalgic for me. And Fruit Loops. I also like color and those are colorful toppings. And you need to have the classic chocolates like Kit Kat, peanut butter cup, and cookie dough.”
Before Nguyen finalized her donut decorations, she made sure her staff could meet her standards in replicating her designs.
“I had to be careful,” says Nguyen. “I can make a million toppings, but we needed to narrow it down to ones I could make and then could also teach other people how to make so they look consistent. Learning from the restaurant, consistency is one of the biggest struggles. One dish can come out one way, but then another chef will make it come out a different way. I needed to streamline it so the donuts come out the same every time. That way it's scalable.”
Due to Nguyen’s consistent and scalable business, Miss Mini Donuts continued to grow. She ordered crisp, bright new packaging to capture the spirit of her donuts. It arrived just as the pandemic hit and her restaurants shut down.
“All the weddings and birthday parties I had were cancelled,” remembers Nguyen. “I was like, ‘What am I going do?’ The restaurants are all closed, all the parties cancelled, I'm going to have nothing to do.”
Before panic set in, one of Nguyen’s employees gave her an idea.
“One of the girls that I was working with said, ‘Why don’t we do a decorating kit?’” says Nugyen. “I was like, ‘Oh, that's a good idea.’ And the new boxes had just come so we could make a really cute little kit.”
In her usual decisive fashion, Nguyen swiftly pulled together a plan.
The S’mores donut from an assortment of Miss Mini Donuts. (Photo/Julia Ball)
“I made a decorating kit, packaged it with frosting and four toppings, and I DM’d some of the family influencers that I work with,” says Nguyen. “I said, ‘Hey, do you guys want donut decorating kits? I'll deliver them to you.’ I did it for a few families. And then they posted it and it just kind of blew up from there. And we, the donut team, have been busy every day since.”
During the pandemic, Nguyen has received many messages from her customers expressing gratitude for the joy she provides.
“We’ve heard from a lot of people,” says Nguyen. “They tell us, ‘Oh, the kids had so much fun. We've been having a horrible time. And the kits made our day today.’ That kept me going.”
These dark times are not new for Nguyen, who has struggled with depression for years. She credits the feedback she receives from her donut customers for being alive today.
“I have depression and addiction,” says Nguyen. “Two years ago, I wanted to commit suicide. But I kept getting donut orders, and people would message me and they’d say, ‘Oh, these made our day’ or ‘You made our wedding so special.’ Reading those messages kept me alive and kept me going. It gave me purpose. It got me outside to fulfill these orders because I knew that this was going to be making someone happy today. So I was like, ‘Okay, I have to get up to make other people happy today.’”
While some may hide their struggles with mental health, Nguyen is loud and proud. Even on her Miss Mini Donuts website, she discusses her depression.
“I wanted to put it on the website because I feel like if I can save or help or make someone feel better, even if it's just one person, then it's worth it for me to be open and honest about my issues and my journey,” says Nguyen. “It's an issue that not a lot of people talk about. People feel like it's a bad thing, but I want to teach people that it's actually a really good trait to have because I feel like with the pain and the depression can come a lot of beauty.”
Nguyen current speaks to groups like New Directions about her story and reassures people that they can survive.
“There is life living with this,” Nguyen says. “I've been down so deep, dark, didn't want to be here anymore. If I'm able to pull my way out and be able to see that I can live with this, they can. If I can share that and help someone else feel like they're not alone, then it's worth it for me.”
Because Nguyen is so open with her journey, she hears from others who are going through similar struggles.
“People will message me to say they’re depressed and I'll give them my number,” says Nguyen. “I tell them, ‘Just call me and I'll tell you what I did.’ I don't have the magic words or anything. Just know this: It's inside of you. You just have to want it.”
Nguyen has lots to look forward to. The third location of Bosscat Kitchen, in Orange, opens next week. Miss Mini Donuts continues to thrive. And she continues to find opportunities to tell others her story.
“It's always kind of been kind of a joke, like, ‘Oh, that's Leslie’s side hustle,’” Nguyen says. “Everyone's always like, ‘Why is doing the donuts so important to you?’ And I say, ‘These donuts kept me alive.’ I think I owe everything to these donuts.”
In the mood for some adorable donuts? Order online for pick up at Bosscat Kitchen’s Newport Beach location or delivery.