Fast Times at Ilion High (Revisited)

I learned yesterday that a post of mine from over 2.5 years ago justifiably caused offense to some former Ilion High School classmates of mine. While the issue has long since passed, I feel great need to make amends where feasible.

The post (which I deleted yesterday) took issue with the plans organizers had laid out for our 10 year high school reunion. I was living in Irvine, CA at the time and Michelle was expecting our second child. My circumstances were such that I was not going to be able to attend the reunion, though I still felt stirrings to try to do so to reconnect. However, after learning about the format for the reunion -- the major event of which was a catered BBQ at a classmates' home -- I responded critically on this blog.

In what amounted to only a small part of my foolishness, I took no account for how my comments were likely to affect those with a vested interest in the reunion [i.e., the organizers]. Nope, in my small-mindedness I had not considered that my public posting, with a search involving a few key words in the post, would reach far beyond my family and a few of my friends.

I learned for the first time yesterday that those comments posted long ago did get back to many involved in the reunion plans, and that several of them responded in kind on the blog [which I also had not seen until visiting yesterday]. One of the less profane, yet biting comments from a former classmate referred to me as a "pretentious, egotistical jerk."

What has stung is that such criticism of me seems justifiable.

I do not know to what extent this belated apology will ever reach those whom I foolishly offended now years ago. Nor am I confident that those people would even care at this point. But for what's it worth, I am very sorry. The post and criticism were uncalled for. This apology has been delayed only because it was not until yesterday that my foolishness was brought to my attention.

While I may not have been mature enough then to recognize that the value of a reunion lies more in the chance to reconnect than in the venue or format, I recognize that now. My ill-advised comments revealed my own shortcomings far more than any shortcomings in the efforts of those who organized the reunion.

Again, I am very sorry.

Aaron

Survival Instincts and Triple Chocolate Brownies

The hard truth is [or at least has been for us] that the days following baby and Mom's return from the hospital require near total abandonment of the high-minded pursuits that give meaning to live in order to satisfy our most basic survival needs.

The baby lives only to eat and sleep, and generally is discontented when she's not doing either. Mommy lives only to feed and sleep, and usually has to find a way to still be functional when she's forced to do without the latter. Daddy exists only to serve, and whenever Mommy senses he's branched beyond servitude and is attempting to pursue other pleasures,* she threatens imminent bodily harm [if only with her eyes and tone of voice]. The other children exist only to thwart the others' survival efforts, either by smothering the little one or making sure that they're loud and rambunctuous enough that neither she nor Mommy ever sleeps [and that Daddy suffers the wrath for not having kept them from being loud and rambunctuous].

Every evenings is a potential marathon fraught with "the baby isn't sleeping" time or "the baby is sleeping, but she might not be soon" time. It's a bleak existence, and I cling only to the cuteness of our little one, the sweets we've got in the cupboard or freezer, and the hope that things will settle in to a manageable routine at some point in the near future.**

All this is to say that celebrating Michelle's birthday yesterday proved a bit more difficult than in previous years.

In place of a birthday cake [which she's no longer shy about claiming not to like], she asked for birthday brownies: good ones. I turned to the only place I could trust with such a perilous assignment: Costco. As it happened, they were still selling the 7 lb. Ghiradelli Triple Chocolate Brownie Mix, which I don't think we've had since our days in Cambridge.

Demonstrating that Michelle's culinary wiles are not entirely lost on me, I decided not only to add walnuts to the mix, but to toast the walnuts before adding them. I also cooked them hours ahead of time to ensure that they'd be sufficiently cooled when the time came to eat them.***

[The baking team]

The result was a triple chocolate triumph.

[Notice the carefully arranged candles]

We also followed our trip to Costco with a trip to Ralph's for some Breyer's vanilla ice cream -- the seemingly perfect compliment to such decadent brownies.

For dinner, we went with a cheese pizza from what we've found to be San Diego's best pizzeria: Bronx Pizza. It's good, though when you've had the best at Grimaldi's in Brooklyn, it's hard to be impressed. Indeed as we ate our Bronx cheese pizza, I mused that this pizza of pizza's here in San Diego is little more than a slightly inferior version of what I grew up eating at Sorrento's Pizza in small town Ilion, NY. How odd it seemed that pizza out of a town of 10,000 comparatively in the middle of nowhere Upstate New York could so easily match, if not outclass, the best San Diego, California -- with it's 1.3 million people -- has to offer. [I also got a $5 Little Caesar's pepperoni pizza for the kids, since slices of the the Bronx pepperoni pizza come at a hefty $2.50 a pop and my kids would not have appreciated the difference.]

Additionally, I'm not sure I'm sold on the Ghirardelli brownies/Breyer's vanilla ice cream combo. The brownies are great, and the ice cream, of course, is great, and I would wholeheartedly recommend either as a stand alone dessert [provided you have some milk with the brownies.] But I didn't sense that they complimented each other well. Instead, it was as though these two dessert heavyweights were battling each other for tastebud supremacy and, because of the battle, ultimately cancelled out the delightful nuances that make them each stand out in their own right. [Granted, though, the pleasure of the Ghirardelli brownies isn't so much nuance as it is a chocolate assault on the senses.] I'm wondering if it's not a wasted effort coupling a really great brownie with a really great vanilla ice cream. Instead, the best course may be to decide which should be the "lead" dessert on any given evening, and then look for a mediocre compliment.

In any event, Michelle still turned 29 and seemed to appreciate the efforts to make special what surely was one of her more subdued birthday celebrations. Natalie would later make for a long evening, which Michelle bore with more patience than I was capable of. [Natalie may have been ticked we shared neither the pizza nor the dessert with her.]

Happy Birthday Love!



*Like blogging, for instance.

** Depending on the hour of the day, I may or may not be just kidding.

*** As some of you may be aware, unlike some other baked goods (cinammon rolls, apple crisp, and chocolate chip cookies, for instance) brownies are almost never better warm than they are cooled. The heat can easily mask the subtlety of the chocolate flavor that makes a good brownie so enjoyable. It also diminishes the appropriately famous brownie/vanilla ice cream combo by melting the vanilla ice cream, which is not desired for this particular dessert combo.

Fatherhood -- Part 3

Michelle gave birth early this week to the newest member of our family: Natalie Elizabeth. Weighing 7 lbs. 12 ounces and measuring 20.5 inches, she came on the scene Tuesday evening. She and Michelle are home now, and I just happened to keep a running diary.

[Natalie Elizabeth Clark]

Monday 9/29/08

9:15 a.m.: Michelle's due date. The doctor pushes for induction and Michelle relucantly agrees to be induced the next day.

9:45 a.m. - 10:00 p.m.: Many tears are shed [and not the joyous kind], and I can't help feeling that somehow they're all my fault.

Tuesday 9/30/08

2 a.m. ish: Michelle is awoken by an apparent street race, complete screeching tires, roaring engines, and a sprinkle of sirens and helicopter coverage. From her report, the race seemed to involve at least a couple of laps down Friars Road. This keeps her awake long after the chase has ended. I, of course, sleep through it all.*

4 a.m. ish: I notice the living room light is on and Michelle is not in bed. This means she is not sleeping. Not a good sign of things to come.

6:30 a.m.: Jared is awaking and dancing [literally] around the house. He is excited at the prospect of a new baby sister coming today. This, and the fact that we have blueberries for breakfast.

7:30 a.m.: We drop off the kids [still dancing] with friends and head to the hospital.

8:05 a.m.: We're five minutes late. I'm scheming over whether I need to buy the $20 parking pass or whether I can chance paying less by posing as a patient. I'm also wondering whether my flexible spending account will only cover the mileage for the the initial trip to the hospital, or each subsequent trip.

9:10 a.m.: The IV is in. Knowing Michelle, the hardest part of the whole ordeal is now over. [And she says this very thing moments later.]

9:20 a.m.: I float the idea of watching the White Sox/Twins play-in game later in the day. This is met with the kind of laughter from both the nurse and Michelle that tells me they don't think I'm serious.

10:51 a.m.: Michelle wants to be sure we've chosen the right name for our little girl. I openly wonder if it's too late to throw the name "Mad Mountain Dean" into the mix. This gets a laugh out of Michelle, which is a good sign.

Noon: I am famished. Michelle is too (though she's not allowed to eat). I head out for lunch and face the dilemma of where to eat. There are a few Mexican restaurants within walking distance, a CVS drugstore/pharmacy, and a Daphne's [Greek fast food.] Those factors weighing on my decision are: (1) I have $10 cash; (2) I need at least $3 cash for parking; and (3) I want to get full but not comatose full. I opt to start at CVS to see if anything strikes my fancy. A $2 14 oz. bag of Peanut M&M's catches my eye, but I just say no [bearing in mind that latter element to factor #3]. In the end, I opt for the Mexican restaurant closest to the hospital, since they take take American Express [meaning 3% back], and offer a sizeable California Burrito. They also have a salsa bar, so I'm sensing I made the right decision.

12:30 p.m.: Back in the delivery room, I find that my California Burrito doesn't have any of the promised potatoes inside. Even if it's a decent carne asada burrito otherwise (which it is) it's still not what I purchased. I weigh my options about returning to complain, but other matters seem a little more pressing.

12:38 p.m.: Michelle gets an epidural, and I wait out in the hall. I take my laptop with me and sit in a chair that seems conveniently positioned right outside the delivery room. I then start plugging away and some old journal entries I'm transcribing, when a nurse comes by and tells me to turn off the laptop. I find this odd [since it's allowed in the delivery room], but obediently comply. A few minutes later, I hear the nurse whisper to Michelle's doctor, who then approaches me and kicks me out of the hallway entirely, since my positioning in the hallway may infringe on other patients' rights to confidentiality. I'm a bit disgruntled about the way this was handled, but, not wanting to watch doctors stick long needles into Michelle's spine, I opting for the waiting room, where "Real Housewives of Orange County" is playing on the TV. I can't seem to avert my eyes from the show for more than a few moments.

3 p.m. ish: Michelle is only dilated to 4 cm. Ugh.

4 p.m.: I call our friends watching Jared and Emily, noting that things may go far later than we expected this evening.

4:45 p.m.: Still no baby, though Michelle is letting me watch the White Sox and Twins. [Of course, if it hadn't been for the epidural, I wouldn't have even been able to read without annoying her, so we're both feeling fortunate.]

5:20 p.m.: 10 cm. That was fast.

5:33 p.m.: Lots of hair, and a purple little body. The cord had to be untangled a bit. In those first few moments outside the womb, I find I'm holding my breath waiting to see if Natalie will take hers. In this instant I realize just how foolishly I had taken for granted the prospective health and well being of this little girl [and Michelle's as well, for that matter.] But she does breathe, and offers a faint little newborn cry that I count among the most pleasant sounds in all the world. As I hear it, I thank God for His mercy in looking past just how lightly I had looked upon the need for His help and protection in this endeavor.

6:15 p.m.: I reluctantly start phoning family members to share the good news. These are the kinds of things I much prefer to delegate to Michelle, though I can't quite bring myself to ask her at the moment. Natalie seems to be a bit more placid than I remember her siblings being.

[Can you sense how much I'm not looking forward to all the phone calls I have to make now?]

7 p.m.: Michelle is transferred from labor/delivery to her post-partum recovery room. I leave shortly there are to pickup the kids from our friends' house.

10:15 p.m.: With Jared and Emily sleepingly soundly, I ready for bed myself. The house seems empty, but I still remember to wipe off the bathroom mirror, somehow thinking Michelle will be able to sense it and be pleased.

Wednesday 10/1/08

6:30 a.m.: Jared comes bounding into my bedroom, wondering where Mommy is. He answers his own questioning a few moments later, remembering she just had a baby yesterday. Emily announces from her crib, "I want to wake up!" and the morning begins.

8:30 a.m.: The three of us search in vain for a Krispy's Donuts that's supposed to be found on Gramercy Drive [and that I even did a Mapquest for.]

9:15 a.m.: We ultimately give up and settle for Krispy Kreme, where I buy 4 dozen donuts -- personally selecting each of the donuts.** The clerk offers both of the kids a free glazed donut. I realize later that she never offered me one.

9:45 a.m.: We drop off three dozen celebratory donuts at the office. Jared complains that this only leaves our family with one dozen. [He then notes that he was hoping for at least 2 dozen.]

10:35 a.m.: We greet Natalie and Michelle with a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts and some chocolate milk. Few happier moments have ever been known among the Clarks [or likely among anyone for that matter.]

[Oh yes, the kids also got to watch "Dora the Explorer" the perfect compliment to donuts, chocolate milk, and a new baby sister.]

10/2/08

1:30 p.m.: Natalie and Michelle come home amid moderate fanfare [mostly requests by Jared and Emily to "pet the baby." Now the real fun begins.

* Yes, I too have wondered [silently, of course] whether the far fetched notion of a multiple lap street race, and the attendant police pursuit in squad car and helicopter, might not simply have been part of a late night pregnancy delusion, so common once a woman passes the 40 week mark. I'm not about to raise that possibility with her, though. After all, she's been through enough.

** Yes, I still have that "Buy one dozen, get a dozen glazed free" card.

I'm Back

Up until about a year ago, one of the pre-dominant themes of my posts had been my difficulties with weight loss and the obvious wrench my penchant for sweets (and lots of them) tended throw into those efforts.

Anyone who has followed this blog for longer than the last 13 months is probably already familiar with some of my background in this area:

When I got married nearly nine years ago, I was at or below about 225 lbs. [Such were the delightful days of never having to pay attention to the scale.] This is roughly what I weighed during the halcyon days of high school and college basketball.

Three years later, by the time I started law school, I had ballooned to about 310 lbs. Indeed, I remember distinctly a sister of mine playfully referred to me as "tubby," which nickname was not so playfully received. While it still seems an odd thing that I, or anyone, could simply "let themselves go" that much, my efforts to reverse course could never quite overcome the allure of an evening half gallon of ice cream or a lunch time package of Oreos.

It was with the onset of winter 2002 (and first semester, 1st year law school exams) that I began making headway. There were lots of bitterly cold mornings where I ran around the Charles River (in Cambridge), and occassionally even exercised a modicum of eating control.

As my posts -- especially my earlier posts -- have documented, it has been anything but a direct path since then. Little by little, however, my habits seem to have steadily improved. My motivation in recent years has been in attaining the "Preferred Select" class of life insurance -- the top class that garners the cheapest rates.

Last year I narrowly missed for a few reasons: (1) the nurse doing the physical measured me at 6' 6" -- and refused to budge on that measurement -- which lowered my weight class [in other words, I had to weigh less at 6' 6" for the preferred select class than I would have at 6' 7"]; (2) though I was near the top of the weight range [around 240 lbs.] I'd lost more than 10 lbs. in the preceding 12 months to get there, which apparently is a ding on your application.

Hence, to achieve that level of nirvana, I had to maintain my weight for a year and then reapply. Largely out of fear that I may have gained weight [especially after a particularly egregious Christmas season], I didn't weigh myself at all in the intervening months, until about 3 weeks ago.

This week -- 13 months after my last life insurance physical -- I had another. Not only did the nurse this time measure me at 6' 7", she then added another inch putting me at 6' 8" because I was barefoot (and she said they expect a measurement with shoes on). I then weighed in at 222 lbs, hopefully securing for the next 29 years the "preferred select" premium for life insurance coverage.

The days since that physical have felt odd. For all intents and purposes, I'm back to where I was nine years. For the first time in a long time, I have no real reason (or need) to diet, and no particular goal pushing me out the door to go running in the morning (besides maintaining, and perhaps balancing out the treats I intend to eat later in the day/week).

The truth seems to be that I've spent so much time striving to get here that I almost don't know what to do with myself now [though if you're in the area in the next 20 minutes, you'll probably catch me plodding up a nearby hill and later even running past a local donut shop.

It does feel good to be back.

Hiatus

The dearth of recent posts is hardly a secret. I spent some time struggling with guilt over this, especially after having tasted a top quality burger at at a local Burger Lounge. I'm past the guilt stage now.

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With Michelle in the late stages of a tough pregnancy, my children and church work demanding more of my evening attention, and, perhaps most importantly, with my efforts to avoid sugar in recent weeks, I've hardly been left with energy to blog about anything superficially meaningful. Given my sugar hiatus, too, I've been at a loss.

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The Olympics have been fun, I've dabbled with Facebook, and taken up transcribing old journal entries in earnest. Ah yes, and I've also been hunting for a mini-van.

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More posts will come...at some point, and I'll be sure to keep you apprised of the time when I'm able to enjoy treats again and hence, share the wealth of my experience with donuts and pastries.

A Tale of Two Donut Shops

Peterson's Donut Corner Revisited

Earlier this month a brother, a few sisters, and my mother visited us here in San Diego. Since my sisters were driving down from Utah, I asked thim to stop by Peterson's on the way here, and at least pickup a maple bar and a coconut donut I'd heard good things about. They ended up buying about a dozen (which, as you'll note below, required two boxes), and I'd guess they probably spent a small fortune.

We dutifully ate dinner that evening, and then cleared the table to make way for these donuts. With seven of us seat around the table, we took turns selecting donuts to sample, cutting the donuts into eighth's, and then sampling and offering commentary. It made for quality family time.

(Yes, they're that big)

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After this second sampling of Peterson's, I'm even more impressed with their donuts. Yes, the maple bars and chocolate bars are huge, but this time around I tasted the best cinammon crumb donut I've ever had. It's cinammon coating was a bit darker than I've seen on other donuts, with a slightly finer texture. What I found remarkable about this particular donut was it's finish -- a strong cinammon kick just as you think the taste is fading. It was terrific, and demonstrated that Peterson's appeal goes beyond the sheer size of their donuts.

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(a chocolate candy bar donut?)

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Another impressive donut of theirs is pictured above (as it was cut up just before sampling). Unlike the cinammon crumb, it won't reach the list of all-time great donuts, but was very good. The chocolate and nuts on top were crusted on as though they'd melted a candy bar over it that had then hardened. This made for a different, yet welcome contrast in texture between the cake and the "frosting."

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Of course, as highly as I value their giant maple bars and cinammon crumb donuts, they're not all worth your attention. The coconut donuts and chocolate bars were unremarkable, as was that giant sugar coated donut in the top right of the first picture. Stay away, too, from the filled maple and chocolate bars. Trust me, you don't need the filling.

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Bottom line here, though, is that I'll likely not ever drive through Escondido now without stopping at Peterson's, nor will I fail to recommend it to any others passing that way. Thus far, they're the best donuts I've tasted in San Diego County, and it's not close.

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VG's Donuts -- Cardiff By the Sea, CA

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VG's Donuts came highly recommended. Indeed, they'd recently won accolades for having having "San Diego's Best Donuts." So, with my family still here anxious for another donut tasting adventure, I took a sister along on an early weekday morning for the 40 mile roundtrip visit.

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I wish I could say it had been worth the trip.

The old fashioned glazed donut was decent, but I hardly found anything noteworthy among the rest of them. In fact, the blueberry buttermilk donuts (in the top left plate) reminded me a great deal of the Little Debbie Donut Sticks, which is not a compliment. Apart from that giant apple nut cinammon roll in the top left plate, there wasn't much to distinguish these donuts from Rose Donuts down the street (or just about every other San Diego donut shop I've patronized). Unless you're already in the area, I see no reason to seek out this place for its donuts.

A Disappointment of Cosmic Proportions

Character can certainly help make a donut, but it can't be an excuse for them.*

Last Saturday, I made the 30 mile round trip to Stardust Donuts in Imperial Beach. In tow was my little brother Peter, and also Jared & Emily. The trip brought with it high hopes and expectations, since Stardust Donuts has garnered local notoriety as the top spot for pastries.

Stardust Donuts is owned by two brothers. To hear tell, their quirkiness and approach to donuts rivals the Soup Nazi's approach to soup: they suffer for their donuts. They demand perfection from themselves and from their donuts. Why should they expect any less of their customers? In that vein, they open the shop when they feel like it, make the donuts they feel like making, and close it when all of the donuts and cinammon rolls sell out.

The exterior of the place also looks dilapidated and run down, including the fact that the "Stardust Donuts" sign missing most of its letters. It now reads " r us nu " " rive h". Some have mentioned that this is because the owners are singularly focused on making top quality donuts. Whatever the reason, it's undoubtedly added to the character of the place.

On this particular Saturday morning we got to the shop at 9:20 a.m. There was already a truck waiting in front of the window and a plumping man otherwise waiting in line. The two brothers could be seen making donuts through the windows to the place, though the shop was hopelessly closed. So we waited and made idle chatter with the plumping man. Others began to arrive as well, including one man who claimed notoriety as having made TV and movie appearances as a homeless beach bum (though he hasn't yet had a speaking roll). He certainly looked the part. Apparently this guy lived around the corner, which perhaps explained why he wasn't wearing any shoes.

Somewhere around 9:40 a.m. one of the owners opened the back door and took something outside. The homeless beach bum asked when they might open. As near as I can tell, the owner said, somewhat gruffly "We'll open when we open."

By 9:45 a.m. the kids and Peter were getting restless. I had Peter get the library book out of the car on Manatees. Then, while retaining my place in line, I read the kids the rest of the book on Manatees. This briefly held their attention (as well as some of the others in line) before their resumed their interest in picking up rocks and throwing them. I think I caught one of the owners smiling, though, when he saw me reading to the kids in line. I'd like to think it was a friendly smile.

Somewhere near 9:50 a.m. we could start to smell the donuts. It was a welcome smell, but still no sign of opening.

By 10:05 the kids were starting to lose it and had abandoned the rocks for sidewalk chewing gum. We were getting desperate, and the line was getting longer. That desperation was tempered, though, by the prospect of tasting and reviewing some fantastic donuts.

Stardust Donuts eventually opened at 10:15 a.m., which had seemed like an eternity with two little kids and a 13 year old little brother. The plumping man let us cut in front of him, making us second in line. When our turn came I surveyed their fare and was pleased that nothing quite looked ordinary. Not sure what to do, I simply ordered one of everything, with an extra chocolate yeast donut and a few extra cinammon rolls (which seem to have garnered the most praise). The donuts ranged from $.79 to 1.29 (fairly outrageous pricing), but the owner was more pleasant than I expected during our brief exchange.

We brought the donuts home to Michelle in eager anticipation of what's now become the normal donut routine: sitting around the kitchen table while I slice up the donuts and we each sample them and offer commentary.

Sadly, the donuts not only failed meet expectations, but for the most part failed to even be decent.

(Not pleased. Not pleased at all.)

Almost universally the donuts suffered from the same fatal mistake: they were laden with oil. That is to say they were heavily moist, moist with cooking oil the donuts had managed to soak up. In fact, they were so laden with oil that when I squeezed our last chocolate donut, beads of oil rose up from the cake.

Only the coconut donut came close to being pleasant.

The oil problem, almost certainly due to the temperature of the cooking oil being too low, left us feeling disgusted and lethargic (more than usual anyway). It was a seemingly simple mistake. Perhaps an aberration. But nonetheless unforgiveable, and certainly not the mark of someone who suffers for their donuts and demands perfection of them. Indeed, what I (and others) had initially chalked up to "character" now only seems to be evidence of laziness.

In the end, if you're going to make me drive 30 miles, wait in line hopelessly for the time when you feel like opening, and then pay a fortune for donuts, you'd better bring it. And they didn't.

*By the way, this is my 200th post.

A New Hope [For San Diego Donuts]

Just about two weeks ago now Michelle and a friend took the kids a few miles north to Escondido, CA for a visit to the Wild Animal Park. Since I had to work that day, I gave her an assignment to visit Peterson's Donut Corner and bring home a few donuts to sample. The results of her efforts are depicted above.

Now, I admittedly handicapped these donuts a bit, since I didn't get to pick them out, and I didn't get to taste them fresh from the bakery. What I did taste when I got home, though, were come creative, and quality donuts.

The maple bar was by far the largest I've ever sampled. [In fact, I'd say it comes near to being double the size of the standard maple bar.] The frosting isn't typical either, as it has more of a cake frosting type consistency. I found this especially pleasant after the frosting had time to crust over on the outer layer. It was fantastic.

The huge glazed bar pictured was also a delightful original. You see, wedged within that donut is a layer of cinammon. It's also huge.

The buttermilk and old fashioned chocolate donut were also very good, though the glazed was typical and forgettable.

I'm so delighted by the prospect of quality donuts from Peterson's that I'm actively looking for reasons to make the 50 mile roundtrip to taste more of their fare [and closer to the time they're made too].

Help?

You're looking at some belated birthday gifts from my mother-in-law from last Sunday. Perhaps you recognize the boxes atop the toaster oven as being Girl Scout cookies. Most of the rest is discount Easter candy of varying quality. One week later, most of the candy remains untouched, though there are only 4 boxes of Girl Scout cookies left (I have been sharing...some).

Alas, my mother-in-law's generosity could hardly have been more inopportune. It comes on the heels of a commitment I made at the beginning of the month to change my eating habits.

This wasn't a typical "I'm giving up sweets until Christmas" type commitment, but rather one wherein my goal has been some kind of regulated moderation that might help me put aside the "feast or famine" mentality that usually controls these matters.

There doesn't seem to be anything moderate, though, about the array of sweets pictured above.

And herein lies the dilemma -- should I try to stash this all away and bring it out slowly, or, recognizing my weakness and penchant for excess, do I just get rid of the stuff now by bringing it to work?

Happy National Donut Day!

Since 1938, the first Friday in June has been celebrated as National Doughnut Day. Today marks the 71st such celebration.

Even if, by chance, your office has not closed in honor of the day, you can still celebrate with Krispy Kreme, who today is offering a free donut of your choice (normally they'll only offer a free glazed donut).

If you're looking for recommendations on that one free donut, go with the glazed chocolate cake donut, the glazed blueberry, or the glazed sour cream. This, of course, assumes you're looking past their original glazed donuts, which are also worthy of your attention.

Happy Donut Day!

Throw Down

My world was upended last night when I turned on my Wii to find that all of my wildest dreams had come true: Dr. Mario is now downloadable on Wii Ware as Dr. Mario Online Rx. What adds more to my joy is that the game has an online component and ranking system.

Those familiar with this blog know that I've long held myself as the Dr. Mario World Champion. This latest iteration gives me the chance to prove it.

Since downloading the game this morning, I've hardly been able to stay away from it. The online feature has me hopelessly addicted, especially as I ascend the world rankings. I have not felt this drawn to a video game in many, many years.

The online component is made up of short games -- with only about 25 viruses to clear. Everyone seems to start out with 5000 points in the online ranking system. If you win, you gain points and move up. If you lose, you lose points and move down. After my first few games, I was near 5100 points, good enough for the top 10,000. After an hour or two today of destroying both viruses and my opponents, I'd logged 50 wins online and am now among the top 800 with roughly 6300 points.

I've noted the top 10 have each logged at least over 120 wins, with some already stretching into 1000+ wins. Everyone in the top 10 seems to be from Japan, at least if the Japanese names (in Japanese Characters) offer any clues.

I'm not sure I have the time to get that high, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in a piece of that action.

If, reading this, you think you've got what it takes, it won't be hard to find me. If you don't, I understand. I'd probably be afraid too.

Memorable Memorial Day

While others were visiting grave sites or attending tribute services to pay homage to fallen veterans, and while still others staking out their 8x8 feet of beach front property this today [despite it only being in the 60's here], we had less admirable aims: to play video games.

In an effort to both be silly and make Jared giddily happy, I floated the idea yesterday of he and I getting up early to play video games today. Jared loved the idea, enough that it started to take on a life of its own. Before long, Michelle had agreed to sleep in Jared's bed last night, so that Jared could "camp out" in the big bed with me. This would enable us to get up early without unnecessarily rousing Michelle or Emily. I was to get up at 4 a.m. to get a few things done and then wake Jared at 5.

Michelle was dubious of it all but consented, if only because Jared was so excited.

By 8:30 last night, Jared was begging me to go to bed. While in bed, it took him close to 40 minutes to settle in. He kept tossing and turning, sitting up and chattering, always wondering how he would know when it was 5 a.m. He did eventually settle in, though.

When the appointed hour arrived, I was up at 4 a.m., though feeling far less enthusiastic than the night before. After I did a number of things, including exercise, Jared was up with me by 5:30 a.m., and we were playing Super Smash Bros. Brawl.

I made a 7:30 a.m. trip to Ralphs to scout out orange juice while Jared played Mario Kart. At Ralphs, I happened upon a cookie sale on the day old rack that seemed near irresistible. I came away with 2 dozen chocolate chip pecan, and 2 dozen oatmeal raisin walnut cookies for $3.16. I almost took home a dozen glazed donuts, too, (also for .89), but I was still smarting from last Saturday's donut debacle. I would've patted myself on the back for the exercise of restraint, if my hands weren't already full with the 4 boxes of cookies.

The video games continued until near noon when Jared threw a fit that he didn't finish in first place in a Mario Kart race [he was obviously tired]. He threw a tantrum when I asked him to turn them off and was only ultimately persuaded when I threatened to leave them off the rest of the day.

By then I was questioning the wisdom of our early morning adventure but said little, since I was determined to avoid an "I told you so" from Michelle [or worse -- the "I told you so" look from Michelle]. So I forced a break, fought through the whining, and took the kids to a nearby park.

We then came home near 2 p.m. and cleaned up, before ultimately resuming our gaming activities.

For the evening, we opted for some less traditional fare: grilled pizza, and, of course, cookies.

Jared is now sleeping pleasantly in his own bed, but not before pleading to be able to do it all over again tomorrow, or at the very least this Saturday.

Middling Reviews of Mediocre Donuts

Lately I've met with a string of less than satisfying donuts. I've been hesitant to blog about them because I have tired of finding differing and creative ways to explain mediocrity. Perhaps its that a busier schedule has simply left me less time to appreciate life's simpler pleasures. Perhaps I've become too arrogant and high minded. Perhaps I'm simply tiring of donuts (though I doubt it). Whatever the explanation may be, I offer brief reviews of three donut shops, in no particular order, that I've visited in the last two months. Be prepared, none of these shops rates high on my list:

Rose Donuts -- Linda Vista, CA:

Weeks ago on an early Saturday morning, I took Emily with me to nearby Rose Donuts.

It's never a good sign when I walk into a bakery intent on buying a dozen donuts and, after an initial survey of the donuts, start wondering if I'll be able to find enough appealing donuts to fill out the dozen. And it certainly doesn't help when I find that half the donuts on display are drummed up variations on the simple plain cake or chocolate cake donuts [varying only by frosting and sprinkle color.]* That was the case at Rose Donuts, though, and, apart from the maple bars, nothing looked particularly compelling.

Out of a habit and sense of obligation, I still got a dozen. I paid about $7.00. We tried both a yeast raised and cake cinammon crumb, some glazed, and a maple and chocolate bar or two. We also got a few chocolate cake donuts with sprinkles [for the kids]. After we left, I lamented that I hadn't gotten a buttermilk donut (often Michelle's favorites) since it had looked promising.**
The donuts were fine, I suppose, though I suspect time has softened my view of them. As we tasted them I remember being entirely unimpressed, though full.
Tasty's Donuts -- Layton, Utah
Back in mid-April, we visited Utah for a few days. One our last day there, I visited a nearby Tasty's donuts to try again one of their "Spudnuts" [glazed donuts made out of potato flour] among others. I felt compelled to make the visit, in part, by a travel channel program on "America's Best Donuts" that had dedicated 10 minutes or so of its 50 minute program to Spudnuts.


Admittedly, the service at Tasty's won me over easily, as a pleasant cashier seemed greatly pleased at the thought that I was there to buy a dozen. [She seemed unimpressed by the fact that I knew their donuts were made with potato flour though]. In addition to the spudnuts, I picked a couple maple and chocolate bars, as well as some buttermilk and purple looking blueberry donuts.
These donuts, though, proved deceitfully appealling. The spudnuts tasted different than a normal glazed donut, but not really better. The frosting on the blueberry donuts and maple bars was crumbly when we bit into them, which would be something I'd expect from donuts off the day old rack. I thought this nearly unforgiveable.
Donut Touch -- Miramar, CA
Last Saturday, the kids and I made a 30 mile round trip to Donut Touch in Miramar. This shop had apparently been ranked a "Reader's Best" back in 2000. Additionally, they had a large window sign promising "San Diego's Best Donuts." Suffice it to say I had high hopes.
I was immediately disappointed by a few things though: (1) Despite the window sign, I again found that over half the display was taken up by the plain cake/chocolate variations I saw at Rose Donuts [and that I've seen in just about every San Diego donut shop I've been to]; (2) the price for a dozen donuts was an outrageous $8.99 [$2 more than a Rose Donuts dozen and $2 more than I can get two dozen Krispy Kremes for -- with my buy one get one free card]; and (3) There were only three or four donuts on display that seemed worth my time.


Again, out of habit and because my eyes were bigger than my stomach, we still got a dozen. We took them home expectantly, but found most of the donuts tasted like exactly like the donuts we'd tried at Rose Donuts. Only the old fashioned donut seemed worth a second taste with a delightfully crispy exterior. At $8.99 a dozen, though, and probably a gallon of gasoline (at $4), this was hardly something to be excited about.
Indeed, in the end, "San Diego's Best Donuts" compelled me to do something I've never done before: throw away the excess donuts. I also vowed to never again buy an entire dozen -- that is, if I'm just buying donuts for the four of us. I think 1/2 dozen would just as easily meet our needs.

* I submit that when you see a display like this, there's a 90% chance you're in for an inferior donut regardless which donuts you end up selecting.
** A few weeks later Jared, Emily, and I returned [it was within walking distance] and each selected one donut. At that time, I got Michelle a buttermilk donut, which turned out to be just about as average as the rest of their donuts.

A First

Those sharing my shoe size (15) or larger might appreciate my good fortune today. Nordstrom Rack held a "large size shoe sale." This meant, for the first time that I can remember, I went to a store and found a selection of shoes my size to choose from and try on.

And you thought you had nothing to be grateful for.

* By the way, I offer little by way of apology or excuse for the sparsity of posts lately. The donuts have been mediocre, my attentions have been drawn elsewhere, and my days pleasant but hardly noteworthy (at least for these purposes). Indeed, the thought that anyone would even notice I haven't posted frequently, let alone care about it, seems to be almost more than I could hope for.

Nice Milkshakes Finish Last

These are the times that try men's souls.

The Ninth Annual Clark Family Milkshake Making Contest went down Saturday night and I'll be heading home without the trophy. This despite an innovative, handmixed Oatmeal Cookie milkshake [vanilla ice cream, milk, cinnammon, brown sugar, and oatmeal cookie chunks] that the one of the judges noted was her "favorite." This same judge -- who will remain nameless -- in the same breath marked me down on appearance since a bit of milkshake had apparently spilled over the edge of the cup. She also took issue with the size of the oatmeal cookie chunks: in her mind they were too big.

So I took home a disappointing third place -- actually, I tied for third place with my sister Sarah's Strawberry Citrus milkshake [the other judge's favorite -- yet puzzlingly, neither of us won]. That meant a bag circus peanuts as the prize. Sarah got some rainbow twizzlers.

Melissa won for the second time in three years (twice in a row with a one year stint as judge) with a workmanlike rootbeer milkshake. The secret, according to Melissa and the judges, was her use of rootbeer extract -- since apparently just adding rootbeer doesn't offer enough rootbeer flavor for a milkshake consistency. Alas, she didn't make enough of it for anyone else to get to taste any of it.

Second place went to Nichole's Banana Split with a Twist milkshake (the twist being mini-peanut butter balls). Peter -- with his S'mores milkshake, garnered the most creative award. This despite telling everyone prior to the award ceremony that it was the worst shake he'd ever made (which, from Peter, is saying something).

Mom's Lime Dream milkshake finished fourth.

Those milkshakes not placing included Alisha's blueberry cheesecake milkshake, Dad's island surprise (the banana flavor overpowered the mango), Matt's Berry Me (a haphazard berry concoction with Golden Grahams as the secret ingredient), Leslie's Berry White (raspberries and white chocolate), and Jared's first ever entry -- chocolate chocolate (a chocolate cake with Hersey bar).

The judges claimed this was the best year ever for shakes -- alas, it doesn't seem to have been the best year for judges.

It's Milkshake Time

This weekend Michelle and I will put on our jackets and ascend northward to Layton, Utah. There, among other events, we'll play part in the 9th Annual Clark Family Milkshake Making Contest.

For the uninitiated, I started a milkshake making contest with my family almost 9 years ago. Each year, the rules of the contest, the prizes, and the milkshakes themselves, have gotten more elaborate and more refined. Indeed, last year Michelle had a trophy made for the winner, which she then brought back with us after her cinammon roll milkshake took first place.

As the rules stand now, the 1st place winner, and the "Most Creative" recipient are judges for the following year (or, if that ends up being the same person, then 1st and 2nd place). There's an ever evolving list of criteria for scoring, usually centering around a few key categories: taste, appearance, thickness, and originality. The milkshakes are judged blindly, with the judges both scoring them and offering a few lines of sometimes merciless written feedback.

The latest controversies stemming from last year's competition: (1) Does a milkshake have to have milk in it, or can people simply stir up ice cream?; and (2) Do we require blender use of all participants, or can people elect to hand mix their shakes? The statutes and case law are unclear.

The contest brings glory and immortality to the winner, and feelings of bitter shame and resentment to just about everyone else, usually with a few aspersions of inside dealing and incompetence cast the judges way. Yet we persist, each figuring to find redemption in the next contest.

As for me, it's been four or five years now since I last won it all. Two years ago my chocolate mint milkshake suffered from little too much peppermint extract (I think I finished 2nd to last), and then last year's was a half-hearted vanilla peanut butter cup shake (4th place). It's been too long since I've tasted milkshake glory, so I'm determined to bring home the trophy this year.

Practicing has proven difficult, though, with a pregnant judge in the house. I can't tip her off to my idea, since that would defeat the blind judging. Tonight, though, after reports that my sister Sarah had earlier tested out an idea of hers successfully, I made my move. Putting the kids to bed 1/2 hour early, I escaped to Ralph's to gather the necessary ingredients. Once I returned home, I banished Michelle to the bedroom, tested out the mixture and balance of ingredients, and then erased all traces of evidence.

Will it be good enough to take home the trophy this year? This Saturday night, we'll find out.

Easter Aftermath

Lots of people deservedly look forward to Easter. I am among them.

A few of us in the Clark household also find reason to celebrate the days after Easter -- scavenging stores for discounted holiday candy.*

Tonight I took Jared with me a to a few stores, under the pretense of needing a few "groceries" and other sundry items. The stores: Longs Drugs, Ralph's, and Target.

There's a little bit of an art to scavenging post-holiday candy. Generally, in the days immediately following a holiday, stores discount their holiday merchandise (and candy) 50%. As evidenced tonight, at stores like Ralph's and Long's Drugs this hardly amounts to a discount at all -- since 50% the regular price at these stores amuonts to a negligible discount over the sale price before the holiday.** Target's "regular" prices are usually more reasonable, making a 50% discount a bit more attractive.

The trick to scavenging, though, isn't the 50% discount -- it's finding the right candy at the 75% discount. The 75% discount is elusive and usually only shows up after the store is frustrated with its inventory and wants to move it now. When a store does reach that point -- and it's hard to know when a particular store will reach it -- sometimes there's still quality candy left, and sometime there's not. That's what makes calculating the risk/reward of post-holiday candy pricing so challenging.

Obviously this is why timing is key and inevitably seems to require a bit of luck. Ideally you'll visit the store within the first few hours of the change from 50-75%, and certainly within the first 24 hours. After that, any candy left is likely to be the kind you probably wouldn't want even if it was free.

But happening upon a store at the right time in the days follow a holiday can be the stuff of legends -- and some of my posts have borne that out.

As for Jared and I tonight, we weren't in a gambling mood. We settled for some Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs from Target -- still at the 50% discounted price.

* Indeed, you would not be wrong to think the same may be said of the days after Christmas, Valentine's Day, and even Halloween.

** Take the 12 oz. bags of M&M's for example. At Long's Drugs and Ralph's the Easter M&M's are currently discounted 50% off an outrageous $3.50 regular price. At $1.75 a bag, that's only a .25 savings over the $2.00 price from a week or two ago. I refused to buy any as a matter of principle.

Breaking Down the Entennman's Glazed "Popems"

I recently came into possession of a a box of Entenmann's Glazed Popems. With the donuts came the glowing recommendation of a prominent food critic, and an expiration date of 3/18/08. Hence, I felt duty bound to break my committment to go treat free until Easter, so that I might experience the donuts before the expiration date.

The question is, "Where do the Entennman's Glazed Popems fit within the pantheon of donuts?"

Admittedly, before tasting the donuts I thought the glowing recommendation odd. Entenmann's baked goods are available everywhere, including the Ralph's and Target I visited this week.

They're the kind made with preservatives that can sit on a shelf for a few weeks. These factors usually do not make for the stuff of legends.

My experience with Entenmann's was in Boston. One desperate evening (before the nearby Dunkin' Donuts opened), I opted to buy a crumb cake of theirs from a nearby CVS. Despite the low expecations, the crumb cake still managed to underwhelm me with a distracting aftertaste.

These donuts fared better.

They're cake donuts, as the preservative types of donuts normally here. This means they're a little heavier, since the donut holes offered by most shops will be yeast raised, and thus lighter. This isn't necessarily bad.

After tasting the first few, I found them to be a little too moist, though pleasant.* The moisture had cause the glazed coating to crystallize with some of the dough, the texture of which I kind of enjoyed (though felt like I shouldn't). The donuts at first blush actually reminded me of the Little Debbie's Donut Sticks -- the kind you can buy for $1.29 a box.** Before making that definitive judgment, however, I did some extra research, buying another box of Donut Sticks.

As it happened, I was mistaken. The Entennman's Popems are far superior. Donut sticks, I found when I had to pay money for them, are possibly some of the worst pastries ever offered as "donuts."

So while I can't champion the Glazed Popems, or even necessarily recommend them at $2.50 for a 9 ounce box (I'll likely never purchase them at that price), they're definitely serviceable. If you do happen upon some and find them too moist, try opening the box and leaving it out overnight -- you'll be glad you did.

* Michelle found them unremarkable, but she seemed pretty set on that opinion before she even tried them. I tend to think, too, that when it comes to donuts, Michelle's isn't quite as qualified. This is, after all, the same woman who fawned over giant sugar-coated hush puppies as the finest donuts she'd ever eaten.

** Michelle had actually given me some Donut Sticks as part of my anniversary present, which was cool. For our anniversary, Michelle actually researched a bunch of the most highly rated donut places in the San Diego area, printed directions, and stuffed them in an envelopes with cash to buy a dozen or so. I wish I had been so thoughtful.

World's Greatest Hamburgers? Not Today.

Today I visited with friends a recently opened Fuddruckers in downtown San Diego. Fuddruckers seemed to come highly recommended, so I welcomed the opportunity.*

I liked the atmosphere at Fuddruckers, though I could've done without the 80's music and the alcohol as part of a value meal. I also could've done without the near $7 for a signature burger. That's nearly double the cost of a Double-Double -- though it does promise to be a 1/2 lb. burger. I tried the 1/2 lb. Bacon Cheddar burger today, since it was dubbed a "Fudd Fav."

Fuddruckers takes a little different approach to burgers: they have a condiment bar complete with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, and all other condiments you might reasonably put on your burger. Hence, apart from the patty, cheese, (and in my case, bacon), it's all up to you.

On the surface this sounds ideal -- you literally build your own burger. Let me suggest, though, that Fuddruckers here abdicates its responsibility, and leaves it to you to determine what precise combination of sauce, lettuce, tomato, pickles, etc., makes for the "World's Best Hamburger." The customer is thus left to decide, and, not being familiar with the specific ingredients and their interplay with the specific quality of beef, bun, and cheese, is left to guess and experiment. This, to me, falls far short of the ideal.

I say, "Give me your best shot, and I'll tell you what I want you to leave out." They seem to be saying "We don't know what to put on it, so you figure it out."

The bun appeared to have been toasted -- perhaps even slathered with butter before toasting. Not a bad call. The patty was thick and there were two nice pieces of bacon on top of some melted cheddar. (Actually, maybe the butter wasn't such a good idea.) I opted to top it with some lettuce, tomato, and pickles.

It also came with some potato wedges, which sounded more appealing than regular fries. I quickly realized, though, that the oven fries Michelle (or even I) make at home are far superior.

About 2/3 of the way through my burger, I realized I couldn't remember having eaten the first 2/3. That's how unremarkable it was. Decent? Yes, but completely unmemorable. At near $7, that's inexcusable**--especially in Southern California where In-N-Out is so prevalent.

They did give me a computer mouse pad just before I left. That was nice. I couldn't help but wonder if they might have better saved the money on the mouse pads and spent a little more time building their self-proclaimed "World's Greatest Hamburgers."

On the way back to the office, I shared a portion of these musings with the friend who'd recommended the place. He was a bit taken aback, perhaps mistaking my criticism of the burger as an affront to his lunchtime company. He mused that he'd never heard someone go on so much about a hamburger, and then observed that, when he goes out to lunch, the food is at best a secondary or tertiary concern, taking a backdrop to the good company and conversation attendant to the meal.

Indeed, if he's left to frequent places like Fuddruckers, the food doesn't leave him much of a choice, does it?



* The friend who'd seemed to have highly recommended Fuddruckers later backed off his comments and noted only that the burgers were "decent."

** This is to say nothing of the waitress they send around. You order the food at the register, like any other fast food joint. You then pick up the food yourself, get your own beverage and condiments, but then they strangely send around a waitress to tell us she's going to be our server and to let her know if we "need anything." She then stops by every five minutes to ask "Is everything ok?", which apparently means we're now obliged to tip her. I'm against this.

Whither the Double Stuf?

A little while ago, we celebrated my first trial as lead attorney. In doing the grocery shopping at Ralph's, I happened upon some Double Stuf Oreos that seemed like they were just the reward I was looking for.

We got them home, put the rest of the groceries away, and then ate a few -- with milk.

Didn't Oreos used to taste better?

I used to be enamored with the filling and the chocolate cookie -- often eating the whole package before feeling the need to slow down. Not recently, as I ate more cookies out of the hope that they'd taste better and not because they did.

Perhaps I've simply too long spent my strength on riotous eating.

Fall From Grace?

Not all donuts are created equal. Apparently not even all Dunkin Donuts.

My travels home from Columbia, SC yesterday unexpectedly took me through the Cincinnati airport. In my race through the terminal, I’d fixed myself in a determination to pass up the standard airport fare -- thereby saving my government per diem for more, umm…err…worthy endeavors.

I had not expected, though, to cross paths with a Dunkin Donuts stand. I did.

It had been nearly three years.* I was feeling nostalgic. After all, several of my top 21 pastry experiences of my top pastry experiences of all time involved Dunkin Donuts. Without any hesitation, instinctively even, I made my way to the stand.

Now, if this blog has borne out anything, surely it has shown me to be a man who appreciates donuts.

Not these donuts, though.

As I approached the donut stand, I was immediately disappointmented at the meager and substandard donut fare offered. The selection was limited, but, what’s more, the donuts looked uninviting and old, shriveled and stale. They had very little frosting where it ought to have been abundant. There weren’t even any glazed! Instead, there were peddling several variations of the plain cake donut, offered in a smattering of different frosting colors and sometimes a few sprinkles. [Few donuts have ever been less appealing than the Dunkin’ Donuts plain cake donut – even at its best.]

I surveyed the cart for a few minutes somewhat incredulously, because, as much as I missed Dunkin Donuts and as dedicated as I am to the donut cause, I started to think there wasn’t anything worth buying. [Perhaps only those loyal readers will sense the import of that statement.] Ultimately, I found a lightly frosted chocolate cake donut that I thought I remembered being decent. It seemed to be the least offensive of the bunch. I bought two, paying an outrageous 89 cents a piece. Tucking the bag under my arm, I made my way to the terminal.

The chocolate cake donut, though, was far inferior to the donut I remembered. [It didn't help that not two weeks before I'd enjoyed Krispy Kreme's devil's food cake donut (very underrated).] Where the donut was supposed to be of the heavier cake variety, it had the form and appearance of a cake donut, but lacked substance.

I started to wonder if I hadn’t been mistaken -- Was there ever cause to like Dunkin Donuts? Was this stand simply an appaling aberration, or had my donut palate so evolved that I'm not simply above the Dunkin Donut? "Impossible," I thought, since, even ignoring the price I paid, I I probably would've preferred the Hostess waxy, mini chocolate frosted donuts available at any grocery store.

Whatever the answer, I've now found -- ironically in what I thought to be a trusted brand -- that there are donuts that are not worth my time and appetite.

* Prior to yesterday, I hadn't had a Dunkin Donut since our days in Cambridge, MA.

Five Guys

Back in October, a few took issue with my reverence for the In-N-Out Double-Double. One reader mentioned Five Guys as being superior.

This evening finds me in Columbia, South Carolina. Among my first order of business here was tonight's trip to a nearby Five Guys. I had intended to make the trip with a friend, but when others got I were supposed to make the trek downtown by ourselves, though somehow we ended up with a group of eight accompanying us. This made me uncomfortable, since I was headed to Five Guys to try the burgers, while the rest followed along on the thought that I was recommending it.

Gratefully, though, I have high praise for Five Guys.

Five Guys offers two sizes of burgers: regular (two patties) and small (one patty). Their burger options include the chance to add bacon to a burger or cheeseburger. The decisions don't end there.

After ordering a cheeseburger, they asked "What do you want on it?" [I wasn't ready for this, nor for the long list of potential toppings to choose from. I went with what I know: Absolutely no mayonaisse, tomatoes, pickles, and lettuce.* I then waited, eating a few peanuts** while they filled my order.

The burger was good. Very good. [The fries were very average.] The interplay between the patties and cheese actually reminded me a great deal of the In-N-Out Double-Double; in fact, I'd be hard pressed to distinguish them.

Again, the burger was very good. BUT, I missed the special sauce In-N-Out puts on its burgers. Perhaps the tomatoes weren't as crisp. And...the meal cost nearly $2 more than a comparable In-N-Out meal. Shouldn't that mean the burger was supposed to be 25% better?

Bottom line: Very good burgers. I'll be back. Given a choice between Five Guys and In-N-Out, though, my taste buds and my wallett opt for In-N-Out.

* Perhaps, given more chance to process the potential toppings next time, my next Five Guys burger will taste even better.

** The floor was so clean, thouh, that I felt awkward about droping the peanut shells on the floor. I did it anyway.

Heavenly Donuts

There's a donut place near our old stake center* -- Heavenly Donuts -- that I've been passing for over a year, but never stopped at. Though I had committed last night not to have any sugar today, I happened upon a delightful excuse this morning as I started to make my way home from the Worldwide Leadership Training Broadcast: I needed to stop so I could do "research."



I took in a sampling of their most tantalizing donuts -- and then a sprinkled covered, chocolate donut for Jared. The cinammon crumb donut tasted inferior to most any other I've tried -- the "crumb" was sloppily applied and too sparse. Michelle described them as "bread crumb...with cinammon." The cake itself showed some promise, though.

The glazed donut tasted only slightly better than what I might've gotten at Albertson's -- which is to say it was perfectly adequate.

The frosting on the maple bar crumbled when I cut it up -- meaning I had to reattach it after it fell off. That's unforgiveable.

I've long thought I was looking for San Diego's best donuts -- I am. It occurred to me today, though, that I seem at least as interested in tasting all of San Diego's donuts. Hence, even my trip to Heavenly Donuts had some redeeming value -- though I won't be returning.


* I went to our stake center this morning because they were showing the broadcast an hour earlier than at our new stake center.

New Digs, Extreme Pizza

There aren't many benefits to moving -- especially when moving to a third floor condo with a broken elevator, while sporting a 200 lb. TV. (If you don't believe me, try it sometime.) It does offer an excuse to order out for a little while.*

So last night we surveyed the chaos of our home, gauged our energy for the evening, and decided to try Extreme Pizza. Their pizza apparently garnered honors as being San Diego's best pizza in 2006.**

Alas, this does not bode well for the San Diego pizza situation.

We ordered a large 14" Green With Envy (pesto sauce, tomatoes, feta, fresh basil, oregano, and mozzarella), and a large 14" Railroad Grade (italian sausage, pepperoni, fresh mushrooms, red onions, fresh tomato sauce, mozzarella, and cheddar). They certainly sounded delectable.

With a "Buy one Get one Free" coupon, we paid $21.47 or so.

They certainly looked like the gourmet pizzas they purport to be. It even tasted pretty good, though on the third and fourth pieces I felt like I was forcing myself to be pleased with it. (Jared & Emily turned up their noses almost immediately).

Of course, to say a pizza tastes "pretty good" isn't saying much. All pizza tastes "pretty good," but not all pizzas cost $20 a pop. Indeed, all in all I found the pizza just a bit more serviceable than Domino's $6 1-topping medium pizzas (which seem to be roughly the same size). And maybe that's even a stretch, since I'm always to finish off a Domino's medium pizza. I can't say the same about last night's fare.

I'm just glad we had a coupon.


* We're also only two blocks away from a donut shop I'm anxious to try.

** At least according to their coupon. Who knows, though, maybe they decided to rank themselves number #1.

Ugh, Moving

Yes, tomorrow we are moving. I sure hate moving.

It will be move #9 since we've been married. With all that experience, one might think moving would get easier. It hasn't.

Still, a few guiding principles have emerged:

(1) Make it short: If you ask someone help you load a moving truck at 9 a.m., that doesn't mean you start packing at 9 a.m. If the world could but learn this one principle....I promised some folks at church last Sunday that we'd have the truck loaded in about an hour.

(2) Have food: I told these same folks there'd be plenty of donuts if they helped. Earlier this evening, we stopped by Krispy Kreme and picked up 4 dozen donuts for the morning.* Most of them will still be around tomorrow morning.

I suspect, if I could deliver on those two promises, even you might want to help.



*I only had to pay for two dozen, given my lovely "Buy one dozen, get one dozen free" card. It's good for another five free dozen. Want some?

The Passing of a Prophet

We got word Sunday night that President Hinckley had passed away due to causes incident to age. It brought somberness and tears to the evening, even as we thought on his happy reunion with his wife, Marjorie.

Two weeks or so ago he spoke at a regional broadcast for our area. He looked older than I'd ever seen him. He spoke slowly, and it seemed as though it took all of his energy to do so.

Still, his health didn't seem to affect his ability to give good counsel. He spoke plainly on strengthening marriage, speaking as well as I've ever heard anyone speak on the subject. He mentioned the need to cultivate mutual respect with one's spouse. He said we should stop trying to "remake" our spouse, and noted that he was "offended by the sophistry that LDS women are only to be barefoot and pregnant." Decisions as to when to have kids and how many are between a couple and the Lord.

He also talked of learning to "cultivate the art of the soft answer," noting that "quiet talk is the language of love, of peace, of God" and that ours, like the voice of Heaven, should be a still, small voice.

Of course, at the time, I didn't realize it would be the last time I would hear him speak. I take comfort, though, in the fact that, even if I had known, I could not have paid any closer attention than I did, or taken any better notes.

Oh, I will miss you President Hinckley. I will miss your pragmatism, your media savvy, and your self-depricating humor. I know that you were and are a prophet of God, and I have tried with all my heart to follow your counsel. I add my voice to the millions who lament your passing, and who hope to someday to be worthy of the happiness and sweet reunion you now enjoy.

The $100 Dilemma

So, we've been accumulating "Thank You" points with Citibank over the past 2 and 1/2 years. Until recently, though, the number of points had been a mystery.

It turns out we've got about 11,000 points, which means we've got just more than enough to get a $100 gift card to a number of different places: Circuit City, Target, Pottery Barn, Bed Bath & Beyond, JC Penney, Sears, and a number of different restaurants (to name a few).

Herein lies our dilemma.

Do we get a practicle gift card? One that'll replace income we otherwise might've spent in one of our budget categories -- like clothing or household items -- thus improving our circumstances by $100? Or do we follow our hearts and just get a $100 gift card to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse?

We're both inclined to get the Ruth's Chris card. Fantastic, insanely expensive steak, that we'd all but given up hope of ever tasting again.

And yet...the pull to be practicle keeps giving us pause. We're careful enough in monitoring our monthly budget that we'd notice the impact if we went the practicle route. We'd never spend "real" money eating out at Ruth's Chris -- so score 1 for getting the card -- and yet the possibilities here seem close enough to real money to make us feel some sense of obligation to treat it as such -- score one for the budget (sigh). Furthermore, Clark family rule #15 firmly states: never eat at Ruth's Chris unless someone else is paying.

So, please, for the sake of the happiness of our tastebuds, give me your best reasons we should get the Ruth's Chris card anyway.

Ringing In The New Year

January is depressing.

Not only is it dark, cold,* and a year 'til Christmas, January also happens to follow the most gluttonous month of the year [and rightly so].

This inevitably means -- if resolutions are to be kept -- a difficult month of sugar withdrawals.

It's been a miserable five days.


*Well, relatively cold -- you can rest assured I haven't forgotten I live in San Diego.