UNSUITABLE THOUGHTS

The midnight snack is often regretted the next morning. This should be clear from the number of people in line outside the donut place, or in prepandemic times by the bewitching fragrance of street corner grilled bacon dogs. And the many late-night pizzerias.
What this city needs, obviously, is the donut cheese dog.
It would finally put us on the culinary map.
Goes great with Sriracha.
Or maple syrup.
Ranch.

[Insert fond memories here of Vietnamese food (bún thịt nướng) around three in the morning with friendly drunks and a coke fiend, at the crazy lady's place in North Beach.]


Alas, there are no Vietnamese restaurants open past ten o'clock near my dwelling. The healthy alternative -- carrots and brocolli florets -- are unsurprisingly also unavailable. The lovely smell of grilled bacon-wrapped hot dogs hasn't been around for more than two years, ever since the police cracked down on them.

It's been a while since I had Vietnamese coffee.
I wonder what time Little Paris opens.
Bún thịt nướng for breakfast.



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