Devi’s Donuts, the sweets sanctuary of Long Beach’s Zaferia district, has long had a home in the city. In the farmers market game since 2015, Eva Ognibene—led by her encouraging husband Tom—Devi’s Donuts is that mixture of Long Beach pride, belief in something beyond your day-to-day corporate job dependables, and the genuine love of hospitality.
After all, if you’ve walked around Anaheim Street just east of Redondo on an early Saturday—we’re talking the wee hours of the morning—you might’ve caught that warm, familiar smell of fried dough and sugar stemming from the couple’s tiny-but-mighty shop. And that’s not necessarily because they are prepping for customers coming in. They’ve quickly learned, post-pandemic, that the key to their business lies in their original trade—farmers markets, stretching from Long Beach to Hollywood—and not their brick-and-mortar.
“It’s not necessarily the model we want,” Tom said. “But that’s where our most loyal patrons are. It’s strangely not in the place we decided to call home but in temporary spaces… The only reason we’ve been able to keep this space open is because of farmers’ markets. And we certainly don’t want it to always be that way. We use high-quality ingredients that are simple, safe, and thoughtfully sourced. We do not use preservatives, we rely on natural sugars, and we use fresh fruit purchased from local farmers’ market vendors whenever possible.”
In other words: Come out. Have a breakfast under $10. Be physically present and watch the craft of woman and the spirit of man want to give you a singular moment of respite in the wild thing we call 2026.
From a monastery to Long Beach, Devi’s Donuts had long been a mission of heart and soul.
Eva never set out to open a donut shop. In fact, there were no classic donuts (in the American sense) in her native Ghana. The closest thing? That was bofrot, a fried dough ball kissed with sugar—similar to sfenj in Morocco, buñuelos in Colombia, or unstuffed bombolinis in northern Italy. While living at an ashram, she learned to cook as part of daily life, and eventually picked up a simple donut recipe from a friend there.
What happened after was less “business plan” and more sharing with friends at parties and potlucks. It didn’t take long for people to tell her: “You should do something with these.” (That push came mostly from Tom, who saw the spark even when Eva wasn’t convinced.)
In 2017, they took that recipe to farmers’ markets around Long Beach. It was at those markets where the donuts found their audience, selling out week after week. When the opened in 2021, it was to much fanfare and, well easy ways to bring people out.
“We would sell out continuously,” Tom said. “And we would host events in our parking lots. Tons of people. The vibes were exactly what we were searching for. But when the city caught wind that we weren’t properly permitted, we were completely okay with being corrected. ‘How do we do this properly?’ was our first question. When thousands upon thousands of dollars in fees ended up being the answer, we knew events weren’t viable—despite how much the community supported them.”
Community-centric. Plant-based. Handcrafted. Devi’s Donuts is full of heart.
What makes Devi’s special isn’t just that the donuts are vegan, something they don’t even really heavily advertise. It’s that they’re just good donuts, with every single part made in-house, by hand, every single day. From glazes to fillings to flavor experiments like espresso whip, lemon pistachio, crème brûlée, and lavender rose, the process is patient, thoughtful, and meant to be appreciated because it lacks, well, artificiality.
The Ognibenes—both long vegetarians who embraced vegan living around 2017—never wanted to ride a trend, let alone the vegan one. Their focus has always been on making the best food they possibly can. They sought affordable and accessible food made with craft, even as ingredient costs have soared and margins have shrunk.
That’s why you won’t see arbitrary price hikes here, at least ones that need to be reflected with growing costs thanks to tariffs, weather, changing consumer habits, high labor costs, increased transportation and energy costs… For them, raising prices isn’t in their recipe for community.
“We already grasp the struggle many went through in 2025 because we ourselves felt it,” Tom said. “So we haven’t raised our prices. And we’re honestly not trying to create a sob story but if more people don’t come through, we don’t know how much longer we can maintain this space.”
Pandemic pride meets 2025 woes.
Ironically, the pandemic days were kind to Devi’s—a reflection many food spaces are realizing post-2025. Patrons were kinder, more patient, and had more money. When so many places were shuttering, people were out walking, exploring their neighborhoods, and treating themselves to simple joys because those simple joys could not be found cooped up. Unemployment benefits meant more casual dollars circulating in the market, and that helped the business more than anyone expected.
Fast forward to 2025. And things look very different.
Across restaurants and food businesses, customers are tightening their belts. Seeing a $10 donut and coffee combo as an unworthy expense rather than an everyday or even every-other-week purchase. In conversations with local owners, the sentiment is the same: “Things are rough.” You can feel it in how people budget meals. Track dollars. And make decisions about where and why they spend.
In that context, Devi’s has stayed resilient by leaning into what made them successful in the first place: consistency. Presence at farmers markets. And building relationships with the people who make Long Beach their home. And while foot traffic near Anaheim isn’t what it once was—a familiar frustration for small independents—their market crowds remind Tom and Eva that there’s still a community actively choosing them.
Devi’s Donuts can be a space for quiet, easy work—just bring your laptop and a sweet tooth.
Their expanded space on Anaheim isn’t just for grabbing and going. With seating and proper quiet corenrs to work you sip your coffee and daydream, Devi’s is one of Long Beach’s underrated work-friendly spots. It’s an invitation to stay a minute longer, be present, and support what’s right around you. (And not something trending on TikTok that requires an hour wait.)
Because in the end, this isn’t about hype. It’s about dedication to craft and community. Every day grind with real, hand-done goodness one couple is trying to exude. So come through. Take that break. Support local. And for once, let the donut be the destination, not the side quest.
Devi’s Donuts is located at 3600 E. Anaheim St.
