The Forbidden Donut

Day 16

2011-01-16T22:28:00.000-08:00

Ok, so no marathon. It took a little less than a week for that goal to fall by the wayside. While there were nay sayers (you know who you are), I gave up the March marathon idea mostly because I realized (again) that I don't like running that much. The 5-6 mile runs were fine, but the prospect of giving up my Saturday mornings (and hence Friday nights) to 10-20 mile long runs was stressing me out. And since the goal was mostly just push me to lose the extra pounds I've put on, the 5-6 mile runs were more than adequate. So I'd like to think I'm happier for having decided not to run it, or at least less unhappy, but the trick will be to stay motivated enough to lose those pounds the fat. That was one of the nice things about the pressures of training for a marathon -- there were no shortage of demands to stay on track.

My streak of treatless days conveniently ended about the same time I decided not to run a marathon. Michelle and I have since taken to testing recipes from the book Martha Stewart's Cookies. [More on that to come.]

A little more than two weeks into the New Year, though, what seems to be sticking the most is my goal to flip the number of exercise days (166) and treat days (259) from last year. For whatever reason, it's thus far proven motivating enough to keep me stretching for it, but flexible enough to keep me from burning out. Time (and my scale) will soon tell whether it's enough, or whether I need to put something akin to that marathon back on my plate.

Day Five

2011-01-05T21:54:00.000-08:00

According to my records, I exercised on 166 days in 2010. Hooray. . . except I ate treats on 259. Without accounting for just how many treats I ate on some of those 259 days, I found those figures both sobering and surprisingly motivating. Couldn't I just try to flip those numbers for 2011?

With that thinking, a Garmin Forerunner 305 for Christmas, and an impulsive commitment to run the Catalina Marathon (my first marathon) in mid-March, I've had my work cut out for me since January 1. And perhaps what's left me so dog tired these last five days is that I've actually had some modest success: no treats and four exercise days. I'm batting a thousand.

Of course, I have no real hope of keeping this kind of pace up. And I don't think I really want to. [It's been all I could do the last few days to keep from whipping up a few dozen sugar cookies to eat with our leftover icing.] I do hope, though, to have enough success under my belt that when I eventually fall back to Earth (probably this weekend), I'll either feel more inclined toward moderation or at least be quicker to get back on the wagon. But so far, it's been a good year.

A Long December II

2010-12-31T08:15:00.000-08:00

Fourteen years ago, I was a freshman at a small college in Upstate New York that most outside of the area have probably never heard of. I lived at home, commuted a 1/2 hour to school every day, and was readying for missionary service for the LDS church the following summer. I was also on the basketball team and had enjoyed some success, but my most prominent memories of the time were of a painfully lonely winter break at home. The girl I had dated in high school had moved on, but I had not.

The Counting Crows had put out their second CD -- Recovering the Satellites -- earlier that Fall, and the song "A Long December" resonated with me during those lonely months as I looked cathartically backward and, from that reverie, steadied myself to move ahead.

I have felt similar stirrings as I've looked back on the year 2010. Not feelings of loneliness or lost love, but of a year that, in many ways, never really got off the ground. There are the 10 lbs. I put on over Christmas break last year that never came off (and the other 5 I've put on this Christmas), a major back injury in July (and I haven't played basketball since), and a host of New Year's "To Do" resolutions that I either gave up on quickly (e.g., a Peanut M&M fast) or never seemed to get around to (e.g., blogging more frequently). Though there was lots of good food this year.

From Pink's Hot Dogs in LA from left to right -- a chili dog, the Mulholland Drive Dog, the Pastrami Reuben dog, the America the Beautiful Dog, and a regular hot dog (bottom) . We only had to wait in line two hours for these dogs! (a small consolation prize after Pizzeria Mozza turned away my party of six).

My "America the Beautiful Dog" -- 12 inch jalapeno dog, pastrami, bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes.

Does this look like a man whose had all he can eat?

The Peanut Butter and Fresh Banana Donut with Chocolate Chips from Stan's Doughnut Corner in Westwood Village. Creative and tasty, but not really one of the Top 10 Donuts in the United States.

Of course all was not lost this year. There were advancements at work, a move to a spacious three bedroom condo (as opposed to the two bedrooms I'd been cramming my family of five into), and even my first half-marathon.

Looking ahead, there's reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last. I'm hoping to run a full marathon, use at least some of my free time more wisely, shake off the added 15 lbs., exercise a little more eating restraint, and post more faithfully here when I don't.

Happy New Year!

Pizzeria Bianco

2010-05-26T23:23:00.000-07:00

Every man eventually finds himself at a crossroads in life when he's forced to answer tough questions, the answers for which may forever alter his future: Whom should I marry? Where should I go to law school? Where should I go after law school? Should I write Santa that threatening letter to try to force him to give me the presents I really want this year?

I faced one such crossroads this weekend: Should I spend two hours of a Friday afternoon in late May waiting in the hot Phoenix sun for what many claim is the best pizza in the country?

A few weeks ago I ran across an article on MSN purporting to list the best pizza places in the United States. Pizzeria Bianco, in downtown Phoenix, made the list. When I learned a few days later that some of my siblings planned to spend a weekend in Phoenix catching a few baseball games, it didn't take long to make the connection. The next thing I knew I had invited myself to tag along and was dropping not-so-subtle hints on where I thought we should eat.

Yet there were some hurdles. Pizzeria Bianco only takes reservations for parties of 6-10, and even then, only one reservation per day. The online local reviews further made it clear that the place is tiny, and you have to wait at least an hour and a half ahead of opening [it's open Tues-Sat 5-10 p.m.] to have much hope of getting in. I wasn't sure my brothers would be up for the wait.

They were (and they didn't even know I was paying yet).

Last Friday we set about heading to Pizzeria Bianco at 2:30 p.m. We found the place and parked nearby, finding our place in line just after 3 p.m. By the time we got there, we were fourth in line. Mercifully, there was at least a canopy set up to shield us from the sun. Those ahead of us in line assured us that the pizza would be worth the wait.

[3:21 p.m.]

As we got closer to 5 p.m., the line grew.

[4:15 p.m.]

And grew.

[4:15 p.m. – The other part of the line]

And grew.

[5:02 p.m. – Now That's a Man in a Confident Mustache!]

And grew.

The place opened just after 5 p.m., and, being fourth in line, we were a few of the fortunate ones who got in at opening. [There were people who had been waiting well over an hour that had to content themselves with placing their names on a waiting list.]

Once we were seated, the excitement built up over the course of that two-hour wait had us giddy. The restaurant itself was quaint, with a single wood-fired oven, and apparently only one person, Chris Bianco himself, actually baking the pizzas.

The menu at Pizzeria Bianco is simple.* There are six pizza offerings:

Pizza
MARGHERITA - Tomato Sauce, Fresh Mozzarella, Basil
MARINARA - Tomato Sauce, Oregano, Garlic (No Cheese)
ROSA - Red Onion, Parmigiano Reggiano, Rosemary, AZ Pistachios
SONNY BOY - Tomato Sauce, Fresh Mozzarella, Salami, Gaeta Olives
BIANCOVERDE - Fresh Mozzarella, Parmigiano Reggiano, Ricotta, Arugula
WISEGUY - Wood Roasted Onion, House Smoked Mozzarella, Fennel Sausage

When our waiter came by to take drink orders, I felt a bit sheepish when we all ordered waters – almost as though we were letting the waiter down.

I was also a little sheepish because of the order we were about to place, since there were so many hungry people and only one guy cooking the pizzas. Not sure when, if ever, we'd be back for a second round of sampling, when the waiter came back to take our orders, I said, making every effort not to flinch: "We'll have one of each [of the pizzas], except for the Marinara. Oh, and we'll have two of the Pizza Margherita."

I waited for him to bristle at the size of the order, but he didn't bat an eye.

Perhaps because we didn't order any appetizers or salads, our pizzas were first out of the oven. They looked beautiful.

When he set the pizzas before us, the waiter's only instructions were: "Eat the Rosa and the Bianco Verde first. After that, eat the rest."

[Bianco Verde]

The Bianco Verde was the first pizza I tried, and probably my favorite. I would not say that it, or any of the pizzas for that matter, exactly "melted in my mouth", but it was really, really good. I loved the way the cheese almost seemed to melt into the crust (rather than just on it), and the Arugula was a great touch.

[Rosa]

If the Bianco Verde wasn't my favorite, then the Rosa certainly was. The Parmigiano Reggiano – and maybe the red onions too -- gave this pizza a playful tang. The pistachios were fun, the pizza was too hot for me to discern much flavor from them.

[Margherita]

I liked the Margherita, but I wasn't blown away by it. Maybe my memories of the pizza Margherita at Grimaldi's have expanded over the years, but on the first slice, this pizza tasted comparatively ordinary. When I went back to it later for a second slice, it tasted much better than the first. It's left me wanting to try the Grimaldi's version again and compare.

[Wiseguy]

The Wiseguy was my least favorite of the five. Any subtleties in the fennel sausage or the house smoked mozzarella were lost on me. It was good pizza, but I wouldn't get it again when offered the choice of any of the other five. Ironically, this is the pizza the MSN article suggests you start with.

[Sonny Boy]

The salami on the Sonny Boy was crispier than your standard pepperoni. The Gaeta olives were nice. This was a good pizza, though not nearly as memorable as the Bianco Verde and the Rosa, or even the Margherita the 2^nd time around.

Having now visited Pizzeria Bianco and tasted all it has to offer, two questions that need answering. I can only really speak to one.

1. Is it the best pizza in the country?

I don't know. It might be. It's the best I've had (at least until I taste Grimaldi's Margherita again).

2. Is it worth the two hour wait?

Definitely at least once. Probably twice. It's the kind of place I'd offer to take out-of-town guests if I lived in the Phoenix area. What was interesting was how many regulars I was in line with – people who seem to routinely wait the two hours to get their slice(s) of heaven. The bell hop and waiters greeted them warmly by their first names and they caught up with each other on the highlights of the past few weeks. I'm not sure I could be one of those people. I'm the guy who is usually contented with Little Caesar's (whose $5 large pepperoni are always "Hot and Ready"), and blissfully happy with a $10 Costco combo pizza. When it comes down to it, it would have to be a rare or special occasion indeed that, on any given night, would have me saying "No" to a $10 Costco pizza that I could have in the next 15 minutes, to instead have the promise of Pizzeria Bianco if only I'm willing to wait out the next two hours in the hot Phoenix sun.

* I'm sure it's not been lost on many of you that menu simplicity often seems to be one of the first signs of great food (besides, of course, having to wait outside for two hours before opening just to get a seat). The confidence manifest in such simplicity speaks volumes.

A Long December

2010-05-15T20:48:00.000-07:00

Nearly six months ago now as I set about mapping my New Year's Resolutions, I decided to be bold: Though I'd managed only a handful of postings in 2009, I resolved to blog weekly here in the coming year.

Now here we are nearing June, and I haven't got a word or a picture to my name.

Back when I started this blog in 2005, there was no Facebook (at least that I was aware of) that offered the chance for pithy quips to instantly update my connected friends on all of my comings and goings. Blogging itself was still relatively novel (though en vogue enough that I felt some of the "you don't want to make it look like you're following the crowd even though you are" internal resistance). As I've noted before, I started this blog then because I wanted to connect better with family and friends, and because I wanted the challenge of exposing some of my thoughts and writings in a public, somewhat permanent, medium. Facebook seems to satisfy most of the former now, though, and lately I've had so much less energy or interest in the latter.

Additionally, the fact that my posts have grown more sparse in recent years seems to be indicative of a few things. For one, I've felt like I've been running out of material. After all, there's only so much traction one can get out of a Peanut M&M, sugar cookie, Breyer's ice cream, Oreo cookie, donut, and half-priced holiday candy fetish. There seems to be less need, too, for simply posting pictures and relating the family's most recent silliness. Maybe not, though.

For those thoughts and ideas that have stretched beyond the trivial or self-depricating, I've also noticed growing increasingly more cautious about sharing them in this setting.

Maybe it's not just this setting, though. Maybe those thoughts and ideas I might have otherwise been inclined to share over the years have themselves become more cautious. And there isn't much traction or material in a cautious approach to the world, either.

Maybe experience has just made me more tentative.

Whatever the case may be, I'm not about to abandon this blog. I am, after all, just getting around to starting my New Year's Resolutions. I will be more diligent here, and we'll see where that leads. Whether that diligence gives way to more devoted thoughts on donuts, cinnamon rolls, and agonizing weight gain, or whether perhaps it leads something more dangerous, who can tell? I can assure you, however, that it will give way to something more than the silence of these past six months.

Ninth Annual Clark Family Milkshake Making Contest

2009-12-23T22:34:00.001-08:00

Amid all of the candy canes and sugar cookies, we held the Ninth Annual Clark Family Milkshake Making Contest today. Despite a record 17 entrants, and a field of milkshakes as elaborate and innovative as any we've ever seen, the final standings had some familiar faces with Michelle winning her third consecutive milkshake title with a key lime pie shake. Bryan took home second place with a coconut cream pie milkshake, finishing only a point behind Michelle in the standings. Matt, placing for the first time, took home third place with his milkshake "Sludge", a chocolate peanut butter concoction. My shake, Atomic Fireball, did not place, though it did take home the coveted creativity award this year.

Here's a rundown of the milkshakes:

"Peppermint" by Leanne – Leanne's vanilla-based shake with crush candy canes. Leanne did not talk to reporters after the judges announced the final standings.
"Chocolate Dream" – Alisha's chocolate-based shake with Oreos, chocolate chips, chocolate syrup, and chocolate sprinkles. The first milkshake to actually reach the judges, they complained it wasn't thick enough.
"Sludge" – Matt's chocolate-based peanut butter, condensed milk, and Oreo shake. Matt only decided on the shake when his name was called to throw it together. The name seemed to take even less thought. Still, he didn't seem surprised when the judges called his name for 3^rd place, wondering openly why he didn't place higher. The shake was only two points shy of the first place shake, "Key Lime Pie."
"Key Lime Pie" – Michelle's winning milkshake, a vanilla-based shake boasting condensed milk, lime juice, lime zest, heavy cream, and garnished with a dollop of whipped cream, toasted coconut, and another dash of lime zest. Michelle claims she only came up with the idea the night before, and actually apologized to the family when her name was announced. [Family members actually booed her as she approached to reclaim the trophy. She has now officially become the New York Yankees of the milkshake world.] Her husband, though smarting from not winning himself, is excited the trophy is again headed to San Diego.
"P.OO.CH Shake" – The title of Leslie's vanilla-based shake stood for peanut butter, Oreos, and chocolate chips. The shake scored well on taste, but apparently wasn't thick enough for the judges' tastes to be able to place.
"Scottish Delight" – Dad's vanilla based shake with butterscotch (hence the "Scotchish" theme). The shake scored well in creativity.
"Let Them Eat Cake" – Sarah's vanilla-based shake included Funfetti cake batter, vanilla extract, and chocolate chips. The judges lauded her milkshake, though apparently found it too runny. The shake was runner up for the creativity award, losing out because one of the judges noted Coldstone Creamery has a similar offering.
"The Great Chocolate Shake" – Jared's second milkshake entry had a chocolate base and included Oreos, a candy cane, chocolate syrup, coconut, and strawberries (I had to stop him at that). Jared's milkshake finished second in the new children's category.
"Not Your Typical Cookies N' Cream" – Nichole's vanilla-based shake had melted butter, Oreo crumbs, and peppermint extract. A solid entry, though eerily similar to previous shakes she's submitted.
"Atomic Fireball" – My vanilla-based shake included several drops of Cinnamon Bark Essential Oil and red food coloring. I submitted it knowing it could not win, but feeling duty bound to add it to the pantheon of memorable milkshakes. [Evenso, some laudatory comments from fellow participants managed to get my hopes up for the top prize.] The shake looked and tasted like an Atomic Fireball, though I couldn't get the color a deep enough red, nor could I get the cinnamon "hot" enough. The creativity prize is the first award any milkshake of mine has taken home in the last 6 years.
"Coconut Cream Pie" – Bryan's vanilla-based milkshake had coconut pudding, toasted coconut, and dulce de leche. Bryan is a perennial top finisher, though an LDS mission to Uruguay kept him out of the last contest. He was magnanimous in defeat, despite losing to Michelle by only a point. The mission seems to have softened him in that regard.
"Strawberry Peachy Surprise" – James' vanilla-based milkshake boasted frozen strawberries and peaches. A solid entry for James' first ever entry (and his first milkshake contest, for that matter). The judges couldn't seem to taste much peach.
"Fruit Kind" – Emily's chocolate-based shake had everything from chocolate chips to strawberries, oatmeal cookies, and sprinkles. This was Emily's first entry, and she seemed happy just to be competing.
"Orange Sunshine" – Mom's vanilla-based shake had orange Crystal Light and mandarin oranges. The shake had a zing to it.
"Citrus Blast" – Nathan's vanilla-based shake had a lemonade packet, Stephen's Wassail Mix, and a great deal of artificial lemon juice. If "Orange Sunshine" had zing, "Citrus Blast" had zing on steroids. Tasting this shake – which was like Sweet Tart ice cream – perhaps helps explain why we caught him running barefoot outside in the snow yesterday morning.
"Chocolate Explosion" – Kaylie's chocolate-based shake had peanut butter, Oreos, and chocolate syrup. The shake won the children's division title.
"Choco-Strawberry" – Carter's chocolate-based shake boasted chocolate and strawberries. Carter's shake rounded out the children's division.

Melissa and Peter (last year's champion and creativity winners) aptly judged this year's contest and largely managed to avoid controversy -- this despite a long history of judicial abuse by disgruntled contestants. The only criticism of today's event came from two sources: (1) Michelle took nearly ½ hour to make her shake; and (2) one of the judges was unusually brutal in some of his critiques. [We may be instituting time limits in future contests as a result.] This was relatively minor compared to the accusations leveled in past years. Three video cameras recorded the event this year, including a camera inside the judges' chambers as they tasted and scored the shakes.

As alluded to above, the field of milkshakes this year was beyond anything I've ever seen in the history of the contest. In fact, Michelle was so giddy about it that she was bouncing around at one point during the contest shouting "I love this family! I love this family!" (I think maybe she'd had a little too much of "Citrus Blast"). It's hard to be sure when we'll get together again for the next contest, but either way, we'll be talking about the milkshakes from today's contest for a long time.

Peanut M&Ms Revisited

2009-09-26T19:33:00.001-07:00

It's hard to say exactly what possessed me last night. We visited Costco early in the evening to buy a few necessities, and, as we waited in the checkout line, I left Michelle and the kids and grabbed a last minute 52 oz. bag of Peanut M&Ms. At $9, it was quite the impulse buy. And since I opened the bag last night, there's no returning it now. I'm stuck with it.

My weakness for Peanut M&Ms is well documented and seems to know no bounds (well, save for the size of the bag). As even a cursory review of these posts reveals, self-control has inevitably eroded, and I've eaten them and eaten them far past the point when they no longer tasted good.

Still, it has been a few months since I last purchased a bag, and since that time, I devised and implemented our exercise for treat days program. Maybe it's foolish, but I'm optimistic I'll have at least a modicum eating control this time around. That I managed to stop short of eating myself sick last night was encouraging. The truth is, if the bag survives a week, that'd be about normal (Yes, I know.) Two weeks might well be a record. Three weeks would be unheard of.

So I'm guardedly optimistic, but history is not on my side.

The 70,000 Calorie Challenge

2009-09-02T22:10:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago I posted about a new approaching to reviewing donuts. Here's the problem: I haven't been so hot on donuts lately.

First it was the oil soaked butter log from Peterson's Donut Corner that kind of shook my faith (and thoroughly disgusted me). How could a donut shop that I've heaped such lavish praises on in the past (including calling them the best donut shop in San Diego County) turn on me with such lazy craftsmanship on a late July afternoon? After paying for and tasting that batch of donuts, I had to battle the thought: I don't really like donuts that much.

Then I had three experiences with Randy's Donuts (in Los Angeles) over the course of a month or so, due entirely to the generosity of traveling friends. Even absent the Peterson's oil soaked butter log experience, Randy's Donuts revealed everything else here in San Diego County to be so decidedly inferior that I've started to genuinely question why I bother. To satisfy my sweet tooth, of course, but I've started resorting to other means (like these giant chocolate chip cookies that I've started making).

Ah, but there are other reasons, too, why I haven't really blogged much about donuts lately -- chiefly because I've been trying (again) to reign in treats.

Granted, it's a much kinder world in that arena when I'm hovering around 5 lbs. of my target weight [as opposed to years and years I spent weekly resolving to lose 40, 50, or 60+ lbs.] Since July, Michelle and I have taken to another exercise incentive plan. It's devastatingly simple: 4 days of exercise a week = 1 treat day; 5 days of exercise a week = 2 treat days; 6 days of exercise a week = 3 treat days. The treat days carry over from week to week, and they never expire. This was working very well for me, at least until things got terribly busy at work, and I was out of town a few weeks.

Now, with roughly four months until Christmas, I'm trying to layer in yet another goal into my exercise routine – the 70,000 calorie challenge. My goal is through exercise and extra activities (like taking the stairs at work) to burn an extra 70,000 calories by Christmas. This amounts to roughly 17,500 calories a month, or roughly 673 calories a day (exempting Sundays). That may be a bit much given the effects of my work schedule lately on my exercise routine, but I'd like to think there's something noteworthy just in the attempt.

Care to join me?

On Hamburgers

2009-08-04T19:00:00.000-07:00

Let me be plain: Five Guys has passed In-N-Out on my list of favorite burger joints.

I returned to Five Guys this evening after visiting it about 18 months ago (the last time I was in Columbia, South Carolina). I got the cheeseburger ($4.99), which at Five Guys means two 1/4 lb. patties. On the burger I elected to have pickles, tomatoes, lettuce, and jalpenos. The jalapenos, my friends, made all the difference. Placed underneath the patties and apart from the other toppings, their delayed heat enhanced the rest of the burger.

Now, in fairness, my meal at Five Guys -- burger, regular fries, medium drink -- cost me almost double what I can get for the same at In-N-Out. And that would probably matter if I was taking my whole family out to dinner.

But tonight I don't care. Maybe I'm just too familiar with In-N-Out, but their burgers don't thrill me anymore. The jalapeno cheese burger from Five Guys tonight did.

On Donuts

2009-07-13T23:01:00.001-07:00

It's been nearly four years now since I started this blog. At the time, I had just finished the California Bar exam [and the sixth Harry Potter book] and was about to start my legal career. I had one child, and relatively few church responsibilities. I wanted some kind of creative outlet that could provoke a different style of writing, though I was hesitant to start blogging, both because everyone seemed to be doing it, and because I had doubts that my writing would only expose me for a fool. Despite, those concerns however, my views on donuts, ice cream, and day old bakery items seemed novel enough that, with a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor, they might warrant their own little corner of cyberspace. Hence, the Forbidden Donut.

As the years have passed, my taste in treats – particularly donuts -- seems to have evolved. So too has the nature and purpose of this blog. What once was my primary outlet for playful communication with friends and family has taken on a more subdued, often now backseat role, to other media, other responsibilities, and other habits. I have three children now, and since the start of 2008, I have also felt pressed to make daily entries in a journal. The window of time available to post seems to be all the time shrinking, and with it, the creative energy necessary to muster even these feeble posts. I used to strive for two posts a week. Lately, I've been lucky if I can manage one a month. [I stopped feeling guilty about that about a year ago.] Michelle also started her own blog, which has served to narrow the scope of my own somewhat.

With all this said, I am happy to note that I have decided to take on a more focused effort to review the donuts and pastries in the San Diego area and beyond as it suits me. Oh I will still allow myself room to post here just about anything I feel like, but my donut reviews in particular will be guided by four general criteria:

Price: Donuts can be wonderful things. It should go without saying, however, that the price of a donut is important. All things being equal, a free donut is far more wonderful than a donut that costs me something. And the more I have to pay for a donut, the more I expect from it (and consequently, the less forgiving I'm inclined to be for any shortcomings).

Taste: Donuts that taste good – particularly on the fourth or fifth helping – will generally score better than those that don't.

Character: The character of a donut takes into account those sensory perceptions apart from taste: appearance, smell, texture, and sound.* Yes, yes, I agree with you. The appearance and smell of a donut often have an impact on how that donut tastes. These categories are not meant to be mutually exclusive. Character, however, also encompasses the flavor of the bakery itself, including the atmosphere, the attention, care, and creativity put in to making the donuts, and even the personalities of those serving them up.

Value: My overall opinion of the donuts, taking into account the three categories above and anything else that affects the donut tasting experience.

These structured criteria should prove more helpful in comparing donuts (and any other food, for that matter) across the board. It also gives me a good excuse to revisit several shops I've already tried.

See you soon!

* Yes, sound. As in what the donut says to you when you first make eye contact in the bakery, or while it sits in the passenger seat on the drive home, or on a plate in the dining room table while you're waiting for your spouse to get out of bed so you can finally start sampling.

Oreos

2009-06-18T20:57:00.000-07:00

So I kind of fell of the wagon in May. On my way down, I took with me a few Double Stuf Oreos and a few of their generic counterparts. They tasted good. Really good.

But, I knew that Michelle had her limits on how many packages I could appropriately buy and work my way through -- at least without getting some indicting looks, if not an outright lectures. I figured that if I was going to get beyond two bags, I needed an excuse.

Enter family home evening.* Every fourth Monday night, I am responsible for selecting and securing the treats for our family get together. I knew that just buying Oreos for the treat wouldn't be enough: for one, Michelle wouldn't be happy that I'd spent money to get the treats; and two, I was concerned that, having to share the bag, there wouldn't be enough for me.

So, in the name of research, I decided that we needed to do an Oreo taste test. The blind taste test would help determine if Oreos were worth the premium, or if we weren't just as well off with the cheaper generic brands. I was also interested in testing the seemingly inflated claims of some who swore that Newman O's -- an organic Oreo-like cookie -- are markedly superior to the Oreo.

This gave me license to buy five bags of Oreos and Oreo look alikes:** Oreos, Newman O's, Ralph's brand, Target brand, and Walmart brand. The Oreos cost the most at $3.19 for 18 ounces. Newman O's were the costliest cookie per ounce at $2.99 a bag on sale for 16 ounces (18.6 cents an ounce as compared to the Oreos at 17.7 cents an ounce). The Walmart brand were far and away the cheapest: $1.35 for 18 ounces. The other two brands fell somewhere in between.

We invited some friends over for the tasting, and I tried earnestly to keep to keep the methodology clean. The cookies were all on numbered plates 1-5, but were otherwise unmarked.

We let the kids first sample a few from the numbered trays. I didn't bother to blindfold them, but just asked them which they'd like the best. There was no clear consensus among, except that they all liked eating cookies.

For the adults, I had each blindfolded and seated at the table. I gave them a glass of milk and then gave them cookies from the five different plates in succession. They were allowed to eat as many or as few as they cared to. Their task, aside from a sugar fix, was to tell me which they liked best and which they liked least.

The Oreos did very well, coming in either 1st or 2nd on just about everyone's list. Newman O's also were among the 1st or 2nd selection of three of the adults (including me -- for as much as I wanted that not to be the case). They were also, however, considered the worst of the cookies by the two remaining adults. One particularly insightful participant described the Newman O's as tasting like chlorophyl -- though this was apparently a compliment (since he liked them the most).

The generic brands were, almost without exception, discernably inferior.

A few other thoughts and observations from my research:

One of the reasons I determined the Oreos and Newman O's were superior was because they had noticeably more filling per cookie sandwich. Walmart's cookies had about 1/2 the amount of filling as a regular Oreo.
I should have varied the order of the cookies I gave participants, since the taste of each cookie seemed to get muddled by the time I got to numbers 4 and 5. I didn't have the time or the means to allow the participants to perfectly clean their pallets before each tasting. For me this meant that I started making decisions less on taste (as they all started run together) and more based on texture and amount of filling.
The way in which the cookies are eaten/tested seems to matter. For instance, my perceptions seemed to change a bit when eating an Oreo straight vs. dunking them in milk.
Finally, I would have vastly preferred to use Double Stuf Oreos. I couldn't, though because Newman O's and most generic brands only make regular stuffed. I can't be sure what doubling the filling on the cookie does to the overall quality of the cookie.***

All this is to say, of course, that further tests are needed.

* For the uninitiated, Family Home Evening is a night each week -- usually Monday night -- when our family gets together, sings songs, has a spiritual lesson, and then an activity and a treat. It would be hard to overstate how important the treat component is to making such activities a success.

** It was actually six bags, since Michelle and I accidentally ate a bag of Oreos the Friday and Saturday before the Monday tasting.

*** As it is I'm always separating the Double Stuff cookies to make them into Quadruple Stuf cookies.

Taste the Fire

2009-04-29T21:50:00.000-07:00

Those of you in the Southwestern states may have been privy yesterday -- as we were -- to the "Taste the Fire" event at El Pollo Loco. Essentially, El Pollo Loco -- a Mexican restaurant chain that features grilled chicken -- was offering the world a free meal on April 28, 2009: two pieces of flame grilled chicken, two tortillas, and salsa for every person who walked through their doors from noon to 8 p.m.

I've been an El Pollo Loco fan for years and was especially pleased at the prospect of feeding my family there for free.

So yesterday I had Michelle pick me up from work so we could rush over to the nearest restaurant. We got there just after 5 p.m., and the line was already out the door. We parked, and took our place in line, and found we were surrounded by homeless people. I suppose that made sense, but it made me a little less sure that I'd done the right thing in making it a family outing.

The guy in front of us was especially chatty, perhaps partly explained by the fact that he reeked of alcohol. He seemed generally pleasant, though a bit less so when he volunteered information about things like his most recent arrest and what he deemed to be excessive bail ("I've never had bail set at $25,000 before") as well what he deemed to be excessive force by the "trolley cops" when they caught him without a ticket recently. [Meanwhile the family in front of this man felt the need to explain to my kids that they really were nice -- they'd only cursed and felt the need to flip off a few passing cars as we arrived because they'd been provoked.]

As we neared the inside area of the restaurant, the man in front of us did speak of Utah fondly and just how much he loves Mormons (this before he found out that we were Mormon). When Michelle noted that we were Mormon, he noted proudly that he'd read the "Mormon Bible" and even tried to recite a few passages he remembered. He spoke even more fondly of his wife of 11 months -- who was in and out of line while tending their things -- and he beemed to talk about the fact that they were married legally by a minister. The mostly one sided discussion made for an odd sort of kinship between us -- fellow people in line -- that I might've looked more gently upon if I hadn't been so caught up in what I felt was an increasing need to shield and protect my kids.

As we left it, the man at one point had decided to go to Utah in hopes of lower rent and a kinder general populous in Provo.

Ultimately, our turn came up in line. We got four of the aforementioned 2 pc. chicken meals for free, and even got suckered into buying $4 worth of sides. We decided against eating at the restaurant, opting instead for the comfort, privacy, and safety of our own home. The chicken and salsa were good -- they always are at El Pollo Loco. And, whatever might be said of the propiety of taking my wife and kids to the event and having them mingle in line with the folks we mingled with, we sure went home feeling more grateful that we even had a home to return to.

How Far I've Fallen

2009-04-16T21:32:00.000-07:00

It's mildly painful this evening to realize that it's April 16, meaning it's been 9 days since my birthday. I got sick in the afternoon on April 6 and then spent the rest of the week fighting off a fever and alternating positions between the couch and my bed. It was the kind of sick that I couldn't do much besides exist, and exisiting just for the sake of existing loses some of its charm after the first day or two. [I intermittently tried my hand at Dr. Mario on the Wii, though I couldn't focus enough to be competitive and ended up dropping 800 points in my rating at one point.]

About the best thing I can say about being sick last week was that Michelle wasn't -- though I still left her a bit overwhelmed.

As the flu left, we all decided to pass around a cold around our house, from which we're still suffering. I have vowed to give thanks every day hence that I'm not hacking up a lung, or having to listen to Michelle or one of my kids do the same. I'd like to think we'll be just about entirely on the mend by Saturday, especially now that I opted to splurge for a gallon of orange juice this evening.

Recovering physically is one thing. Over the years, though, I've noted that my chief difficulty with getting sick is that all of my good habits seem to fall by the wayside. For instance, it's been weeks since I've exercised [and I've been patting myself on the back just for walking to and from the trolley these last few days.] It's likewise been weeks since I've tried to regulate at all what I'm eating and how much. My scripture study has devolved into the few verses I hurriedly read before falling asleep, and the television or Wii easily and quickly dominate my free time. Alas, my Dr. Mario rating isn't getting any higher. And even if it was, who cares?

Tonight, I'm thinking I want my life back. [I want my hair back, too, but that's another story.] I don't think, though, that I'm strong enough to simply reclaim it tomorrow in its entirety. And that bugs me.

Things You Do When You've Been At Home Sick All Week, Have A Few Moments of Lucidity, And Need A Break From Playing Dr. Mario

2009-04-10T18:40:00.000-07:00

I sent this email moments ago to the Clearplay customer service department. For the uninitiated, Clearplay is a Utah based company that purports to offer a filtering technology that automatically mutes and skips the "bad" parts out of your DVDs, thus making them a bit more palatable to the more sensitive viewers [I count myself among them]. If you click one of the links on the side of my blog, you can read an article I published a few years ago on the technology. As you'll note below, however, I'm thus far not a fan.

To Whom It May Concern,

Last week I reached the last straw with Clearplay. Having recently purchased a brand new, latest model player, I figured I would finally be able to enjoy the moving viewing experience you tout so as to sell your players and your monthly subscriptions.

However, 15 minutes into the first movie, the filtering stopped working, or seemed to be misaligned so that my family and I were subject to all the things your filtering and DVD player were supposed to keep out. I called the next day and was instructed to upgrade the software, which I did. Yet the same filtering problems remained. I called back and was told I must have a defective player and that I'd need to send mine in to be replaced. "No need to worry," I was told by your customer service rep., "we'll pay for the shipping." I was told I would have an email with a shipping label in a few days, and then it would take me 2-3 weeks for a new player. To "compensate" me for my troubles, I was also told I'd be getting another 2 months membership for free.

Alas, no email with a shipping label ever came. Indeed, the only thing I've heard from you guys subsequent to my phone call now nearly two weeks ago was a message from a sales rep of yours, advising me that, while only one week in, my free membership was about to expire and that I should renew now for a special low rate.

This was not my first incident with your technology. Only the latest. Prior to this latest purchase, I purchased an older version of your player in December. It froze up constantly, and increasingly refused to read DVDs such that it became entirely worthless. When I talked to your reps about it, I was told that, tragically, the 007 model had about a 50% failure rate. The only solution offered for my troubles was for me to further purchase a two-year membership, which would "allow" your company to send me a new player [i.e. the one I just purchased], which I was told had only a 1% failure rate. It seemed like an odd thing at the time to be giving a sales pitch at the same time that the customer is complaining about, and the sales rep is admitting to, the fact that the technology was a worthless piece of junk.

While you continue to broadcast your accolades in your weekly newsletter, I would have it known that I am entirely unsatisifed with both your technology and your customer service. I ignored it for a time because I so desperately wanted it to work properly. However, my frustrations with both aspects of your company have now so boiled over, that I have resigned myself to at least no longer having to deal with the frustrations of owning one of your players. As such, I am returning it to Seagull Book.

My expectations at this point are that this email will probably fall on deaf ears, much as a previous, similar email seemed to, which email dealt with issues relating to my previous player. There is some part of me, though, that can't help but hope that Clearplay will finally rise to the level of its sales rhetoric and attempt to make whole an aggrieved customer. [And please note, by this I do not mean offering me a "discount" on an extended membership or a few months free of updated filters.] For what it's worth, if a meaningful effort is not made on your part, this bad taste in my mouth will ensure that I will be warning anyone who'll hear me to steer far clear of your company and your technology.

Sincerely,
Aaron Clark

The Six Week Plan [umm, make that 3 weeks]

2009-03-14T22:11:00.000-07:00

This was supposed to be a redemptive post. A post about new beginnings, about a treat free weekend, and about an earnest commitment to salvage what's left of my honor and dignity by seeing through the last three weeks of what was supposed to be our Six Week Plan.

But tonight there is only weakness.

Three or four weeks ago I committed to help Michelle in her efforts to get back to her pre-pregnancy weight. Since the Christmas season we'd been battling [unsuccessfully] the tendency to indulge. Then three months later, in an effort to reclaim ourselves, we swore an oath to live treat free lives for the six weeks or so leading up to my birthday. Apart from the carrot of slimmer figures, we also put some tax return money up as a reward to frivolously spend on ourselves if we met our goals. All we had to do -- or at least all I had to do -- was to go without treats and to exercise regularly.

Michelle has done relatively well these past three weeks [or at least that's what she says.] But my heart has mostly only been half in it -- committed in the mornings, but looking for wiggle room by the evening. Such double-mindedness has lead to minor eating indiscretions at the office [e.g., a single donut two weeks ago, brownie bites on consecutive days this week etc.] and non-treat -- but no less caloric -- bowls of cold cereal late at night. Frankly, it's been the worst of both worlds: too few sweet treats to satisfy me, and yet none of the weight loss benefits of resisting.

Michelle seems to have taken great delight in pointing out my comparative weakness.

Something needed to change, and yesterday morning, feeling familiar stirrings, I re-signed a pledge promising not to eat treats for the next three weeks -- the last three weeks of our six week plan. I told Michelle about it and even made it through the day and evening without indulgence. Since it was a Friday, it was a doubly-difficult feat. I felt back on track.

Tonight, though, we attended a church function. A game night, celebrating St. Patrick's Day. Yes, desserts were to be provided, but we wouldn't partake.

Not three minutes after we arrived, though, I found Michelle with a giant chocolate chip cookie in her mouth. In between chomping the cookie, she mentioned something of getting back at me for the donut I'd eaten two weeks ago [I hadn't told her about the brownies this week.] Two minutes later, she was munching another cookie -- just as large as the last one. What was I supposed to do?

At that moment there was probably someone, somewhere, doing something against all odds to keep a committment they'd made to themselves or someone else.

Alas, it was not me. I started in on the brownie bites, followed up with the oatmeal raisin cookies, and finished with a chocolate cupcake or two. [No, actually I think it was 3 cupcakes, and probably 4-5 cookies.]

So I cannot write tonight of strength and honor, discipline and self-control. I can only write of the oft traveled road of over-indulgence, regret, and the painful reminder of Thomas Jefferson's famous words: "We never repent of having eaten too little."

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be able to make the committment stick.*

* To those of you tempted to counsel me to moderation -- rather than the feast or famine mentality manifested by this post -- thank you for the kind thought. Since Christmas, however, I feel no more capable of moderation than of holding back the tide. So we'll be sticking with the feast/famine approach for the time being.

A Late Night With Natalie

2009-03-06T20:16:00.000-08:00

It's now nearing 1:30 a.m. The events of the evening have followed a similar pattern:

Natalie woke up around 10:30 p.m. Michelle went in to comfort her, and then we determined to let her fall back to sleep by herself. We waited and waited and waited and waited. Michelle grew increasingly frustrated.

By midnight we thought Natalie might be asleep again. We turned off all the lights and crept into bed, only to have Natalie, moments later, erupt with a new round of cries. The cries seem so much more pronounced when you're in the same room.

Michelle gets near frenzied by this point, abandoning all hopes for the following day and giving way to everything we'd spent the last hour and a half trying to accomplish. She brings Natalie into bed to try to nurse her down, which fails. Natalie continues to squirm and Michelle seems less and less able to deal with it. We have neighbors above and below and on the other side of our bedroom. Can we really just let her cry it out at midnight? And then what about when she's up again at 2 a.m.? At 4 a.m.? And even forgetting the neighbors, we're in a 2 bedroom apartment. Where are we supposed to go while she's crying herself back to sleep? All of these thoughts only seem to add to the desperation.

At last Michelle doesn't know what to do. She says prayers don't help, they make her depressed. She can't handle it. She won't handle it. And all of my own prayers throughout the evening touching this exact situation have again lead me to the same desperate circumstance.

I take Natalie out of the room, and Emily immediately starts crying between coughs from an adjacent room. I'm then trying to deal with Natalie and Emily -- who feels sick and wants to sleep in our bed. I get Emily a drink and try to comfort her while holding Natalie. Emily then goes back to sleep, and I'm stuck [while still feeling sick myself] with Natalie, who shows no sign of wanting to sleep -- though gratefully she does sit peacefully in my arms.

She then spits up all over the couch, and I have no spit rag. And the truth is I start to feel spent.

At length I offered a vocal prayer to God while I'm holding Natalie [who is awake still.] I try pouring out my frustrations and fears, my difficulties, and the difficulties of everyone else in this house. I wonder why Natalie is still awake tonight and what I'm supposed to do about. I wonder what He can and will do about it. I wonder why He doesn't seem as near, and why it is my prayers lately in these desperate hours feel so forced and dry. And as the answers aren't readily apparent, the prayers are offered with less feeling and with less hope.

And then I turn on the computer to read the latest Ensign message from President Monson, ironically on prayer. As he describes it, the great answer is simply to pray, and to be more constant and earnest in our prayers.

This is not helping. Not tonight. Not the last 5 nights. Not when I'm already in earnest and wanting to know why the Heavens seem silent as Michelle and I try to cope with Natalie's sleeping habits in a two bedroom apartment.

Throughout, though, at every instance when I'm tempted to complain or feel forsaken, a thought tries to wedge its way in: do I expect to be delivered simply for the asking? Do I expect prayers, even desperate prayers, to spare me difficulty? Is He not sustaining me even now? Is it not a great blessing that she'll sit contented on my lap? Has He not already allowed for the fact that, when Michelle can no longer handle things, He has given me strength sufficient that I can? And has He not still provided everything I have needed and more?

And then I remember Neil L. Anderson's thought: faith is not just a feeling, it's a decision. I feel inclined to choose faith, and as I ponder that thought while continuing President Monson's message, I find my little girl asleep. At least for now.

The Nutella Chocolate Donut

2009-02-15T18:39:00.000-08:00

I have a moment to pay homage to Michelle's latest pastry efforts: this time a foray into the world of donut making.

Last Sunday, with a few of my sisters visiting, Michelle offered to make homemade donuts for our Sunday Evening Treat.* This was Michelle's second attempt to make homemade donuts. I'd meant to post about her first efforts at the time, but blogging time doesn't seem to come as easily these days. [They were great donuts, with an impressive homemade glaze -- though, as she'd acknowledge, many were a little doughy in the middle. The holes crispy cinnamon homemade donut perfection. A fine first effort!] Here's a picture:

Showing off her budding mastery of pastry know-how, Michelle's second effort had none of the weaknesses of the first. The second batch of donuts was nice and crispy on the outside, and cooked through on the inside. [She'd even asked me before she made them just how crispy I wanted the donuts to be.]

This time around Michelle had more of the same glaze, as well as cinnamon sugar for the donut holes. These easily would've satisfied anyone looking for a meaningful homemade donut experience.

I want to call attention to a particularly innovative, and tasty, effort of hers: the Nutella donut.

As Michelle tells it, my sister was searching through our cupboard, found some Nutella (which, for some reason, manages to survive in the cupboard even as all other chocolates in the house are devoured within hours.) Michelle suggested they spread it on some of the donuts.

Michelle's homemade donuts held up well against the thick Nutella spread, and were just plain enough to allow the hazelnut chocolate taste to take center stage with every bite. There was nothing light about the donut, but, especially with a glass of milk, it was the best chocolate frosted cake donut I'd had in some time.

I'd like to think she owes all of her inspiration to the Forbidden Donut.

*These Sunday evening treats are part of the reason we'll be seeking refuge in our "Six Week Plan" of exercise and good eating. . . that'll start this Tuesday.

Golden Donuts: Go For The Toasted Coconut

2009-02-01T20:54:00.000-08:00

Last February, Michelle's anniversay gift to me came in a pink pastry box -- the kind that scream "sugary and delicious" even before you know what's inside. There were some Little Debbie's Donut Sticks inside, a few Hostess Donut Gems, and then a series of 6 envelopes and a small notebook with a picture of a Donut on the front.

Inside each of the envelopes was a $5 bill and directions to a local donut shop. As she excitedly told me, she'd researched and tried to find the six top rated donut/pastry shops in San Diego County. Few gifts could've been more thoughtful.

As I've visited these places, I've posted my reviews here.

Two Saturdays ago, I visited the last shop on my list.

Golden Donuts (North Park):

Golden Donuts is nestled in a tiny strip mall in North Park. It's not the nicest part of the town. A small sign with a dragon greets you as you enter, letting you know that they only take cash. I left in the early hours of the morning and didn't tell Michelle were I was going (or even that I was going), so I felt a bit rushed to get home. I quickly surveyed their fare and was initially a bit disappointed with what seemed to be yet another spread of mediocre donuts.*

(Smiling is So Much Easier With Donuts)

Whatever the donuts look like, I'm always bound to choose three specific donuts: a chocolate sprinkled donut (for Jared), a "pink" donut (for Emily), and a maple bar. I'm free to choose the rest. I was trying to be strong, and the donuts didn't do much to overcome it on this morning, since I only bought a 1/2 dozen [a cinnamon crumb, an old fashioned, and a toasted coconut yeast raised donut.]

The chocolate sprinkled donut was just what it purported to be: nothing more, nothing less. The pink donut was supposed to be cherry. There wasn't much cherry about it, though the frosting was red. The cinammon crumb was ok, and the maple bar frosting was crumbly and too thin.

The more donut tasting I do, the more I'm drawn to the old fashioned glazed donuts. Theirs was a quality old fashioned donut, with a healthy amount of glaze (some of which had seeped into the cake itself) and crispiness. I'd buy it again.

Their toasted coconut donut was the value of them all, perhaps mostly because I'm a sucker for toasted coconut and because, for all of the shops I've visited here, I haven't seen many yeast raised toasted coconut donuts. It was delicious, and it alone is the reason I will visit Golden Donuts again.

* I say this simply because I've found very few places here that seem to input any passion or creativity into their donut offerings, both of which is evident immediately both from the donut selection and aesthetics. Save for a very few, they all seem content to offer the same 10-12 types of donuts everyone else is offering.

New Year's Resolutions

2009-01-09T20:30:00.000-08:00

While I was working as a missionary for my church, I once met man who told me confidently that he was perfect. . . save for two weaknesses: women and booze.

In that same vein of introspection, I seem to have at least three: chocolate cake, peanut M&M's, and sugar cookies, each of which I ate my weight in over the holiday season.

[Yes, that's Sonic the Hedgehog -- a chocolate Sonic the Hedgehog]

Now two weeks removed from all of the holiday celebrations, I feel a little more confident sharing one of my New Year's Resolutions that will surely prove to be one of the keys to all my happiness this year:

I will only eat 6 bags of Peanut M&M's this year. [I'd originally planned it to be 4 bags, but on January 1st, I found a sale at Ralph's for some leftover "Holiday Mix" bags of M&Ms. They lasted until January 3.]

A few other snippets of things I've been meaning to post on:

Surfin Donuts (San Clemente, CA):

A friend at work tipped me off to Surfin' Donuts when she learned of my donut exploits, giving particular mention to their dutch crumb bear claws. When we took the kids to Disneyland last December, we paid a visit.

Their donut selection was limited, and at the hefty price of .89 a donut, they couldn't quite get my attention. However, a chocolate donut and a pink donut caught Jared and Emily's attention respectively, and I hardly felt I could deny them -- not when we were headed to the happiest place on earth. They each kindly gave me a taste, and I can report that they were serviceable. [But please, at .89 a piece I'd invite you to look elsewhere.]

[The Glazed and Cinnamon Crumb Bear Claws.]

Michelle and I each picked out one of the recommended bear claws, which were a much better value at $1.39. Both were filled with an apple pie type filling and were very good. The cinnamon crumb was easily our favorite.

Donut/Yogurt Shop Near Little Caesar's [Linda Vista, CA]:

I stopped by this place at about 4 p.m. on Halloween. We had Hot N' Ready pizzas in the car, but I was feeling carefree. My sister Sarah was with me, so we decided to check it out.

They had about 7-8 donuts total under the glass as we walked in, and I distinctly remember a fly buzzing around somewhere. My immediate inclination was to turn around and walk out, but I couldn't get myself to be so bold. No, instead I shot a look to Sarah, who didn't seem brave enough to walk out either. I then responded to an attentive cashier and selected the two donuts below [which all but wiped out their donut supply]:

[Yes, this is just about how they looked under the glass -- and these were the better looking ones]

My hope is that just looking at the picture gives you some clue as to how they tasted: old.

Since Sarah paid for the donuts, I don't remember how much they cost. The free donut holes were a nice, unexpected gesture, but the poor quality and selection -- even at 4 p.m. -- makes my list for one of the three worst donut experiences of all time. The next time I pass this place on my way home from Little Casear's, I'm determined to turn my head and look the other way.

Frosty the Snowman (Layton, Utah)

While we were in Utah, we made a snowman. Emily insisted we name him Frosty, and then wondered openly what we had to do to make him talk. When I told her that required a magic hat, she wanted to know where we could find one. When I told her we could only get a magic hat from a magician -- and that we didn't know any magicians -- Jared chimed in and suggested we look in the phone book.

Sadly, only a few hours after we built Frosty, someone decided to trespass on my parents' front lawn and destroy him while we weren't watching. [We found foreign footprints leading to and away from Frosty.] I tried to rebuild him, but someone pushed him over again on Christmas night. Hopefully Santa was watching and taking notes.

Fast Times at Ilion High (Revisited)

2008-12-05T04:58:00.000-08:00

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

2008-10-11T21:33:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-02T20:44:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-27T06:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-20T21:21:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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.

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

2008-07-22T21:29:00.001-07:00

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)

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.

(a chocolate candy bar donut?)

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."

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.

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.

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

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.

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

2008-06-29T20:00:00.000-07:00

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]

2008-06-15T16:07:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-06-15T15:33:00.001-07:00

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!

2008-06-06T06:42:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-31T16:15:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-26T20:36:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-26T08:57:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-10T22:28:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-20T19:55:00.001-07:00

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

2008-04-17T21:07:00.001-07:00

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

2008-03-26T21:15:00.000-07:00

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"

2008-03-17T15:33:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-03-11T19:30:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-03-06T21:41:00.000-08:00

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?

2008-02-16T21:53:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-13T19:05:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-09T19:57:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-08T20:19:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-01T21:07:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-31T20:50:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-27T16:08:00.000-08:00

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

2008-01-05T21:23:00.000-08:00

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.

Saints and Poets

2007-12-24T20:07:00.000-08:00

This morning I was reminded of that haunting scene in Thorton Wilder's Our Town: Emily Gibbs has just died, and she decides to revisit her twelfth birthday. Though she relives the beginnings of the day with fresh wonder and excitement, she ultimately can't bear it. "I can't look at everything hard enough," she laments. Frustrated that that the participants of the day seemed incapable of appreciating what lay before them, she asks to go back. On her way she asks the stage manager "Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? -- every, every minute?" "No," is the cold answer. "The saints and poets, maybe--they do some."

I thought on that scene this morning as I made my children oatmeal, and particularly as I looked over a gift my father gave me for Christmas. This year he gave us a compilation of his journal entries covering the early part of the lives of his children. The first entry in the compilation is from 1977, when he and my mother learned she was pregnant -- with me. Those entries offer a glimpse of past events akin to Emily Gibbs'-- though perhaps simply in taking the effort to record them, Dad came a little closer to "realiz[ing] life while [we] lived it."

It didn't take long before I thought on my own children, and I considered what it was I wanted to be able to remember about them -- and what I wanted them to be able know about themselves [at this age] when they are my age. So I tried paying closer attention at breakfast:

There was Jared's prayer this morning. Instead of blessing the food, he prayed "Please bless Emily that she'll stop touching the Christmas tree."

Then, in the middle of breakfast, Jared asked for more brown sugar on his oatmeal. I denied the request, explaining that I had already put a little extra brown sugar into his oatmeal since it's Christmas Eve. At the words "Christmas Eve", Emily spontaneously shouted a cheery "Ho, Ho, Ho!"

Finally, as breakfast was ending, Jared noted: "I hope it's a long time for us to die, Dad. Do people come off the ground when they die?"

The noteworthy moments multiplied -- exponentially -- as I looked for them, and I very quickly found I could not look on them hard enough. I could not hold my children tight enough to keep them as they are. In fact, I could not even hold onto today's priceless breakfast scenes. It is not in my power.

Instead, my only hope seems to be in recording -- in my journal entries or this blog -- what few experiences from the day are deemed important enough to preserve. If my responsibilities take me too long into the evening on any given day, they risk cursory treatment, or, far more often, simply getting skipped entirely. If I happen to miss the mark one day and dwell too much on the unimportant, time still passes unforgivingly. At best, I find that mildly distressing.

Neal A. Maxwell once noted that we humans never seem to feel quite "at home" in time. We too often either find ourselves wanting to hold onto certain moments longer, while making other events pass more quickly. He mused that the discomfort is evidence that we are eternal beings. I suppose that doctrine has never seemed as clear to me as over a bowl of oatmeal this morning with my kids.

At any rate, Mr. Wilder, it seems that "saints and poets" may not be alone in realizing, in some measure, "life as they live it." Instead, for what it's worth, my money's actually on those who diligently keep a journal.

On the Tenth Day of Christmas...

2007-12-23T20:52:00.001-08:00

My true love threatened mutiny if forced to listen to any more Manheim Steamroller.*

With only a few days to Christmas I am already lamenting the passing of the Season. That it must end at all means it must end too soon. I am starting to tire, though, of my Christmas music collection.

Tonight Michelle and I will finish reading A Christmas Carol -- a Christmas tradition we started years ago (to keep up with President Monson, who apparently does the same). At under 100 pages, we read a few pages a night during the month of December. For those who've read the story, hopefully you'll agree that, as fond as we are of some of the movie versions of the story, they can't match Dicken's narration in the book itself.

By the way, I am still waiting on some sugar cookies, though I have it on good authority that Michelle and Jared will be making some for Santa tomorrow. They are, after all, Santa's favorite. Hopefully he'll appreciate my contribution as well -- cookie decorater -- since it'll be my job to make sure that his cookies have just the right amount of frosting, and that the frosting is just crusted over by the time he reaches for them. I suspect that my attention to detail in this regard will be handsomely rewarded.

Lastly, thanks be to President Bush, whose December 6 Executive Order has allowed me to spend Christmas Eve at home. I intend to make good use of the day by investing a few extra hours in Super Mario Galaxy on the Wii.

* And were we relegated to the music that has come after their first two CDs, I'd have to agree.

On the Sixth Day of Christmas...

2007-12-19T21:10:00.000-08:00

Ah the Christmas season. Since last Friday's office holiday party (and the accompanying office dessert contest), I've daily given up more and more ground to the sugary treats set before me. By tomorrow I'll have lost control completely, and by Friday, I'll perhaps be in an insulin induced coma. Hopefully I'll wake up in time, though, for some sugar cookies on Saturday.

On the First Day of Christmas...

2007-12-13T20:56:00.000-08:00

Twelve days left until Christmas, and the Clarks are in full Christmas mode. Christmas music, presents under the tree, We've even had some nippy weather the past few nights to justify it (in the 40's). Knowing that Santa is among my avid readers, I thought it prudent again to post my letter to him this year, which I wrote in conjunction with our home evening activity on the subject.* I'm sure you'll sense the more concise (and modest) approach this year. I'll let you know on December 25th how Santa took to the letter:

Dear Santa,

I have been the best in the family, so I deserve the most.

I trust you Santa. You've never let me down (except that one time).

Love,
Aaron

* By the way, Santa, Jared's more focused letter has already been posted on Michelle's blog.

But I Did Stay at a Holiday Inn Express Last Night

2007-12-05T21:18:00.000-08:00

I got to argue an appeal before the Ninth Circuit today. That was cool.

While some of my colleagues stayed at the Ritz-Carlton, I opted for the more functional Holiday Inn Express (in a much sketchier part of Pasadena, CA). Anyone familiar with this blog might guess why I went out of my way to stay at such an admittedly inferior hotel: The Holiday Inn Express offers complementary warm cinammon rolls for breakfast -- as many as you can eat.*

I started staying at the hotel a few years ago when the firm I was working for sent me on a series of business trips the took roughly six weeks. I ended up in the nether parts of the country and stayed of lots of different hotels of varying quality. Quickly enough, though, I started searching out the Holiday Inn Express because I knew that, if all else failed, those cinnamon rolls would be waiting to greet me the next morning.

Granted, the Holiday Inn Express cinnamon rolls hardly register on my list of top pastries, but as part of a free breakfast -- with a glass or two of skim milk -- they've found a warm place in my heart, and with that small gesture have perhaps attracted a lifetime customer.

*After speaking with my colleagues it would seem the Ritz doesn't even offer a complementary breakfast, much less warm pastries and milk. They also charge $9 for daily internet access, whereas the Holiday Inn Express offers complementary wireless access. How do ya like them apples? By the way, for anyone interested in knowing how many I actually ate this morning -- only two. I thought it prudent given that a pastry induced coma might've detracted from my arguments this morning.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2007-11-22T13:37:00.000-08:00

I don't know about you, but Thanksgiving Day started for us at 5 a.m. this year. That's when Emily awoke needing some attention -- the rest of the house decided to get up with her. We decided to spend those early morning hours playing Mario Party 8. Michelle won the early round.

At 6:30 a.m. I took the kids -- still in their pajamas -- to Yum Yum Donuts to get donuts and a Thanksgiving Day paper.* [On our way to the car we passed a few festive neighbors, already outside drinking.] This is the first year I've had the foresight to not try and finish off the entire dozen donuts in the morning.

Michelle labored late into the night yesterday prepping today's dinner. Sometime after 9 p.m. last night I made my way to Albertson's for some pie crusts. I felt sorry for those parents filling their carts to start preparations, with bleary eyed children in tow.

All that preparation was well rewarded. From the acorn squash, walnut, and pomegranate salad to the perfectly dressed turkey, the light, buttery rolls, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie: all merited high praise.

We delighted in having some company to share it with.

Having now settled in for the evening, we've played some Christmas music, made our Black Friday plans, and are now watching "A Muppet Christmas Carol." Though we were far from famly, I can't remember a Thanksgiving going more smoothly. Tonight I feel almost completely at my leisure. The fact that I don't have to work tomorrow only adds to that sentiment.

Happy Thanksgiving!

* Michelle once or twice made coffee cake on Thanksgiving morning...back in the days we didn't have kids. She told me definitively this year that's a tradition we won't be continuing. By the way, the donut/newspaper tradition started back in Boston during my 2L year in law school. The newspaper, of course, is for the Black Friday ads.

The Deal of a Lifetime

2007-11-06T21:46:00.000-08:00

Michelle is sick, so I spent most of the day home. I like being home.

This afternoon I took the kids to Blockbuster to rent Ratatouille, then to Albertson's for some chicken soup and orange juice (for Michelle). We got to Albertson's at just they right time: they were putting out the discounted Halloween candy bins.*

Now, I'd sworn I wouldn't buy any post-holiday Halloween candy this year, but I couldn't resist the open invitation, or the $1 price tag. What surprised me, though was to see to of the larger 45 ounce bags of M&Ms in the bin (that weren't even overtly "Halloween" candy). I picked up the bags and mused openly to a nearby employee, "These can't possibly be $1." They were the big bags -- the kind that normally retail for $11 at Albertson's.

"Oh yes they are," she shot back proudly and defiantly. So I put the two bags in the cart, believing not for joy, and expecting the cashier to probably correct the apparent error.

She did not, and I ended up walking out of Alberton's with 90 ounces of M&Ms for $2. At 4.5 cents and ounce, that's far and away the least I've ever paid for M&Ms.

Now lets see if I can make them last for more than a day or two.

Stick With the Double Double (Part II)

2007-11-06T21:09:00.000-08:00

Where was I before those pesky fires? Ah yes. Hamburgers.

A few took issue with my laudatory comments on In N Out's Double Double -- both offering their own supposedly superior options (feel free to scroll down). As for Five Guys Hamburgers, I'm in the unfortunate (or perhaps convenient?) position of being unable to verify claims of superiority.

Not true of the Carl's Jr. claims. The day after the comments -- the first day of the fires -- I made a special trip to a nearby Carl's Jr. I went with an open mind, hoping for the superior form of "hamburger nirvana" Matt pines away for back East. It didn't happen.

Looking to match a similar burger, I went with the classic Double Star w/cheese.

The first thing I noticed was that the Double Star costs 30 cents more than the Double Double. Not a good sign, unless it really happens to be superior. The burger itself was quite functional. The patties had more of a grilled flavor to them -- the same I've tasted in Burger King's fare. Throughout the experience, though, there was one persistent thought: There isn't anything in the taste or assembly of this burger that I couldn't get cooking on the grill at home. (Of course, this violates Rule #37 of my maxims for living: Never pay to eat out something you could make at home.)

So as for me and my house, we'll stick with the Double Double.

Day 3

2007-10-24T21:30:00.000-07:00

I'm actually starting to get stir crazy. No work again today (and no work tomorrow either.)The air this morning was visibly caked with smoke. I could hardly spend a few moments outside without my eyes, nose and throat starting to burn. Maybe this is why they want everyone inside and limiting their physical exertion.

The major networks spent the day covering the fires again, though several starting inserting commercials. Tonight, they were just about all back on their regularly scheduled programming, though they're all still running a ticker on the bottom of the screen updating evacuation notices. Our car is still packed and ready to go at a moments notice, but it's looking less and less likely that will be necessary.

This afternoon we readied for the ward Halloween carnival, which went on despite the air warnings (The air out here was actually much improved this evening -- though reports are that it's still terrible downtown.) As part of the festivities, Michelle entered some of her chili in a ward chili cooking contest. She didn't ended up taking home any prizes for the chili -- though apparently her chili was the first (and one of the few) to be eaten completely. All the way home she openly mused on how the telling sign of an award winning chili wasn't a ribbon, but to be the first eaten. Of course, it would've been nice if she'd won a ribbon too.

Other highlights included the cake walk. Between my and my brother's family we took home about 12 cupcakes. Since I finished off the Costco chocolate cake this morning, the timing was perfect.

Day Two

2007-10-23T20:54:00.000-07:00

No work today. Lots of TV, switching channels frequently to find any station showing live footage of the fires. Michelle spent the day readying our car and our things in the event of another evacuation. We've been advised to stay indoors (the smoke tinged air outside tends to give one a headache), and to stay off the freeways.

That didn't stope me from heading to Costco (not to worry, I took all local roads). I convinced Michelle I had legitimate business to transact there, but I really only had one thing in mind: The family needed a morale boost and I needed chocolate cake.

The Costco chocolate cake. Not the 8 lb. All-American Chocolate cake that's mostly frosting (and hence, not terribly appealing.) No, the smaller 4 lb. bundt cake with a chocolate ganash type frosting and a drizzled white line of frosting on top of that. I brought Jared along with me for moral support, and to help figure out our best defenses when Michelle found out we'd bought it.*

As it happened, there were cheers when I brought the cake home. Michelle only mildly protested (which in this case actually represented a hearty consent). I did my parental duty by waiting until at least after noon to break into it.

* Jared's best idea was this: "I'll just tell her, Dad: 'Mom, we're keeping the chocolate cake.'"

Update as the Fires Rage

2007-10-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

Only in hindsight is my foolishness so apparent.

I began the morning later than usual and caught only enough of the Internet to read on CNN's website that there were a few "small fires" in remote parts of Northern San Diego County. I ate a heaping bowl of cereal, held late morning prayers with my family, before literally running to catch the trolley. I read 1 Nephi 17 and then slept for the remainder of the ride, gearing up for the work day ahead.

I got off the trolley and immediately noticed the smell of smoke and burnt wood. I mused on that as I walked, and then passed a coffee shop where two paralegals informed me the office was closed. I rejoiced and took the next trolley home.

Once home, I turned on the television and stayed glued to the news. With morbid fascination I looked at the map delineating the locations of 7 different fires burning in varying parts of San Diego County. None were near La Mesa. We stayed fascinated with the fire, and I openly wondered/hoped the fires might keep me home from work tomorrow too.

I went ahead with the rest of the day, feeling insulated enough that we only reluctantly decided not to head down to the beach today. I also tried to switch internet service plans, rejoiced when a customer service rep from Men's Wearhouse called to let me know they'd be replacing two of my shirts, and went to Carl's Jr. to test out a Super Star burger (w/cheese) before formulating a reply for a recent blog.

About an hour ago we continued in the state (readying ourselves to head to the pool) when we heard sirens and a loud speaker shouting something. Given our proximity to Fletcher it had to be directed elsewhere.

Still, Nichole can running into the apartment frantic. Police cars had driven up forcing evacuation of our apartment complex. As soon as Michelle heard, her voice turned frantic and in a seeming panic she started screaming for us to get things, find things, put things together, and get out of the house.

I still felt calm. Even amid an apparent evacuation, it couldn't have had anything to do with us. I put together my laptop bag, found my backpack (which has Ipod) and meandered out to our car. It was during that walk that the seriousness of the situation. Police cars were racing up to our building on the other side. I walked down a little farther and saw a billow of smoke. Then, in that instant I saw a tree on our side of the street, but on the other side of the wall catch on fire.

I ran back to the house, and with a heightened sense of urgency started getting things ready. I unhooked our main computer, and got our children. People were running around our building now. Neighbors who had raced home wanted to know when this had happened. Police were shouting as us to leave, pounding on our neighbors doors. I realized for the first time that I could lose just about everything I owned. We filled our trunk. I noticed Michelle had loaded a bunch of pictures and a few journals. I'd taken care of the computers. We loaded into the car when Michelle, still talking frantically, told me she'd forgotten her wallet. She told me to run in and get it, and I reluctantly complied. As soon as I got out of the car a policeman was shouting at me "You're going the wrong way sir! Get out of here!" I still ran back to our apartment, hoping to find that wallet. The policeman followed me though, shouting at me all the time "Get out of here! Get out of here now!" He only gave me a few moments to look for the wallet, standing in the doorway shouting at me the whole time. I ended up leaving without it, and the caravan of my family and my brother's family left the apartment complex.

There was an empty feeling, leaving the apartment and seeing the fire, not knowing when we'd be able to return and what we'd be returning to. Michelle shouted thanks a policeman as we drove off. We were headed to a church evacuation center, and Michelle was lamenting she'd been so concerned about preparing for Christmas and we didn't even have a 72 hour kit. For most of the drive we alternated between feelings of gratitude that we were all together safe and feeling foolish that we weren't better prepared. Jared displayed a little nervousness by asking lots of questions about the fires and the fire getting our apartment.

We got to the stake center and saw familiar faces. Each of those faces was there to help -- not there as evacuees. We checked in, were given a room and offered cookies. Most importantly, there was a room with a TV showing the local news. We met people from Poway, and I shared a few nervous moments with a man who wondered what area we'd come from. When I told him "La Mesa" he expressed surprise the fire had gotten that far South, and then said "It's a strange sensation not knowing what you're going to be coming back to." I saw Jared & Emily a few moments afterward -- Jared was telling me about toys -- and felt profound gratitude that my little family was unscatched. For a few moments, I felt like that was all that mattered.

The fire affecting our area was apparently under control and put out almost as quickly as it started (no details yet on what started it). I'm not sure if we were even at the stake center an hour when a friend offered to let us stay with them. [Not before this same friend joked with me that there were reports my home had been looted -- the only thing they'd taken was the Wii.]

On our way to their house, we checked on our own and saw only charred hillside and a few burned pine trees. We were able to return home and offer thanks, and essentially continue a normal evening. [though Michelle has filled the car with those things we just couldn't bear to lose -- should we be evacuated again.]

At last report, the 8 fires in San Diego county are 0% contained. Tonight there are thousands [250,000 in an early count this afternoon] who have been evacuated from their homes. We were one of them only for an hour or so. My office is closed tomorrow. I won't be sleeping in Qualcomm stadium, a high school, or a church tonight. I feel guilty about that, especially as I watch others' homes burn on the news. At least tonight I'm a little less inclined to take my creature comforts for granted, and a little more prepared if something threatens to take those same comforts away again.

Stick With The Double Double

2007-10-20T20:31:00.000-07:00

Most already know of my regard for In-N-Out burgers. In fact, I'm surprised other hamburger joints are able to survive in Southern California, since their burgers are either markedly inferior or double or triple the price (and that's just to offer something comparable.)

This weekend we play host to my brother's family and my mother. They're visiting from Utah. Any time we have company from out of town we usually make sure they have opportunity to make the obliged pilgrimage to In-N-Out. Today was no different: After a few hours poking around the San Diego Zoo, we made our way to the In-N-Out closest to our home.

I felt especially hungry tonight, and so decided to try a 3 x 3 (3 hamburger patties and 3 slices of cheese), instead of the normal Double Double.

What a mistake! Perhaps I couldn't have known before hand, but the entire balance of the burger changes when an additional patty and cheese slice are added to the same single slice of tomato and lettuce, the same amount of sauce, and the same toasted bun. While the tomato, lettuce, and sauce act as perfect compliments to a Double Double, alas, when competing with a third patty and slice of cheese they are almost drown out entirely. Because of that, after my first few bites I found myself thinking "Wow, that's a lot of cheese!", instead of my usual reaction, in which my thoughts melt away during those few delicious minutes.

In the end, the 3 x 3 was a functional burger, though suprisingly quite inferior to its smaller counterpart. Indeed, the fact that that burger inflicted 50% more damage on my body than the already dangerous Double Double all but ensures that I'll never make the mistake of ordering another in my lifetime.

All That Glitters is Not Gold

2007-10-16T21:33:00.000-07:00

I have been a bachelor the past five days, with only my Diet A&W root beer to keep me company.* Truly I don't seem cut out for single life.

Granted, it has been worse in years past. There were a few times in Cambridge when Michelle was out of town where I'd find I was staying up until 2 a.m. flipping channels and eating cereal, hoping for something to replace the loss of her company. Diet A&W can be good for that sort of thing, but not nearly good enough.** I haven't been quite miserable this time around, but I haven't really been happy either. Instead all this free time has painted my weekend and my evenings in a grayish hue.

One might be tempted to think otherwise -- that this kind of alone time is exactly what you need. Evenings free without fretting about getting dinner on the table or the kids ready for bed! Just hours and hours to work on all those projects you've put off until you had enough time to get to them. But I defy you to be even half as productive as you imagine you'll be, and to not spend the better portion of your evening or your weekend trying to find something (and generally something unproductive) to fill the void left by your loved one's absence.

Sadly tomorrow they will return, and all this longing produced by their absence will quickly be forgotten amid the daily routine. There might be a few moments, perhaps even a day or two of increased joy, but soon enough we'll settle back into things, and be comfortable enough to be occassionally cross with one another. And then, paradoxically, I'll surely return to craving just a little more free time, not really knowing what I'm wishing for, the feelings that spurred this post naught but foolishness. Only after she leaves again will I remember.

The great tragedy seems to be that even recognizing all this beforehand, I am yet too human to alter that course of those events.

*Yes, my brother Nathan technically has stayed at our home in Michelle's absence, but he's home so little that I've found my Diet A&W is the only thing I can really count on.

**Some of you might be thinking "Hey, Aaron like's Peanut M&Ms a lot -- why doesn't he just get some of those?" To any who might be wondering, I fear without Michelle around to provide some form of regulation (even if it's just a look of disappointment) I might sink to uncharted depths in that regard. I'm not anxious for a relapse right now -- not with Halloween coming, quickly followed by Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Once Upon A Mattress

2007-10-09T20:27:00.000-07:00

On Saturday we sat at the feet of the prophets (in our living room) watching General Conference. We also went bed shopping. Thrilling stuff, I know.

I know two things about mattress shopping (and probably only two things): (1) buy a name brand; and (2) never pay full price.

An otherwise unexciting day of shopping was made more interesting because of this fact: we found two local mattress stores both of whom offered to beat their competitors lowest price on any mattress by 5%.*

Michelle would lay on each mattress and comment on the different feel -- often times going back and forth between the comparable Serta and Simmons models. I would lay on each, pretend to have a comment, and think about how much it cost.

After we'd settled on a mattress at the first store we thanked the salesmen and told him we needed to do some due diligence at other local stores. It was at this point that he reminded me about the 5% price guarantee and volunteered that a competitor was selling the mattress we had our eye on for $200 cheaper. He claimed he'd match and beat the price by giving us the same price and not charging us sales tax. That sounded pretty good -- but we still left.

Later in the day we visited the competitor -- who also claimed they'd beat any price by 5%. Their salesman was a bit more aggressive. I'd hoped to keep under wraps the fact that we'd already shopped at a competitor, but Jared gave us away: "Daddy, this store has toys too!"

Once we got the 2nd store to agree to match the first store's price (note, he only agreed to match the first store's price, not beat it), we left and went back to the first store.**

Then came the final bit of finagling. We went back to the first store and sat in the parking lot. Michelle urged me to talk again with the sales rep at the first store, telling him we'd been offered the same deal by his competitor that he'd offered earlier, and asking him to beat it by 5%. I was loathe to be so pushy, since I essentially was making the man bid against himself. Once Michelle pointed out it was all part of the business, and that they'd even invited that kind of haggling, I decided to venture.

After I inquired, the man at the first store decided to sweeten deal by offering us a free bed cover, valued at $120, as well as no interest financing for 26 months (meaning we could earn the interest on that money, instead of them). I rewarded him by letting him know that we thought his presentation was better than the other guy's anyway. We then signed on the dotted line, and are now the proud owners of a new Simmons mattress.

* This had my head spinning. If two competitors promised to be the other's lowest price by 5% -- couldn't I eventually get someone to sell me a mattress for $1?

** The salesman started to press as we made our way out the door, wondering why, with their price match guarantee, I didn't just finalize the sale there. I finally had to be candid: "We're looking at spending a lot of money. I'd like to be able to consult with my wife in private before we come to a decision."

Donut Escapades

2007-09-30T20:00:00.000-07:00

In Spring 1997, I was a freshman in college, recently finished with somewhat successful basketball season and only a few months away from a mission. Basketball had brought some degree of notoriety, but did nothing to add to my list of close friends. It was a lonely year in many respects, but would've been more so without my good friend Jamin to commiserate with.

Jamin and I made a memorable Spring break trip that year: a five hour round trip drive to Rochester -- the nearest place with 7-Eleven's -- for Slurpees. Most thought the trip, and my fetish for Slurpees, inane foolishness. I might have agreed, but that didn't mean I had anything better to do.

I thought on that trip Saturday as I decided to drag my family with me to Los Angeles (roughly 5.5 hours roundtrip), to sample a few famed donut shops. Perhaps sensing history, Michelle was surprisingly complicit, especially after I suggested we'd finish the day at Pink's hot dogs. My younger brother Bryan, visiting from Utah, also took to the idea. Perhaps he remembered accompanying me on a few of those early morning trips in upstate New York just after my mission when I took him on an hour long trek to get donuts from from Holland Farms before anyone was up.*

The impetus for this trip was a recent article on MSN, referenced in a previous post, purporting to feature the "America's Best Donuts." Two of the ten shops listed were in the Los Angeles area. As I mentioned before, I was skeptical, wondering openly what criteria were used to discern the best donuts, and what the author's qualifications were enabling him to make such bold assessments. After all, how many shops has he been too? How thorough his research? Had he had any training in donut theory? My suspicion was that by "best", the author really meant "most famous," which often has nothing to do with taste. I felt obligated to make my own assessments. Hence, last Saturday's trip:

At each store we bought six donuts, opting for a standard maple bar and glazed donut where possible, and then selecting the other four donuts based on what offerings seemed most intriguing or appealing. My review the shops and their donuts follows the order of their rankings based on Saturday's visits:

Randy's Donuts

We began the morning at Randy's. Having visited the store earlier in the month, I knew they made quality donuts. Saturday's visit only reinforced that. Our 1/2 dozen donuts cost just over $5. Here's the menu:

We started with another buttermilk donut and this time sampled a glazed donut:

Michelle raves about the Randy's buttermilk donuts ("They taste like buttermilk!"). I don't see (or taste) it.

The glazed donut, though, was remarkable. Soft and slightly warm, the glaze was lighter than most other glazed donuts -- almost more refined. The donut doesn't call attention to itself like its more famous Krispy Kreme counterpart; it's subtlety only adds to its delightfulness. The glazed donut also had more of a homemade taste than any donut I've ever purchased. It was a favorite among all of us and easily ranks as one of the best donuts I've ever eaten. Seriously. I think I'd contemplate a trip to Los Angeles just to get a dozen (well, maybe two dozen) of those glazed.

We also tried a Randy's cinammon crumb donut:

Here, Randy's distinguished itself from a previous favorite donut of mine from Mag's Donuts in Orange County. Randy's cinammon crumb donut -- a cake donut -- was lighter and softer than any cake donut I had ever eaten.

Lastly, we enjoyed the maple bars:

The maple bars on Saturday didn't have the slightly crunchy exterior like the one I'd sampled earlier in the month. They were, however, just as soft and chewy, and the maple icing remains the best I've ever tasted.

Stan's Donuts

Stan's was our third stop, but finds itself second on our list. Stan's didn't make the MSN list for "Best Donuts" but came highly recommended by a friend. I discovered later it apparently made Forbes 2001 list as the best donut shop in America. It certainly lived up to my friend's recommendation, even if no particularly donut there made for a particularly compelling experience.

Stan's is nestled in Westwood very close to the UCLA campus. We spent a little under $6 on our half dozen:

Stan's website boasts over 75 different kinds of donuts, and claims you'll find donuts there that you won't be able to find anywhere else in the world. By all appearances that was true, as the sight of all those difference kinds of donuts was simply overwhelming.

Still we managed to decide on six for sampling:

We first tried the pink donut, which Stan's dubbed "The Simpson's Donut." It looked every bit the part, but tasted very ordinary. The same actually could be said of all the donuts in the box: the glazed (very much like the generic glazed I could get at an Albertson's), the maple bar, the cinammon crumb (which is actually a yeast donut here -- the cinammon crumb is held to the donut by light glaze that actually falls off the donut in large chunks), and the cherry topped cream filled (I'm not sure what we were thinking in selecting this one). The orange buttermilk donut actually did distinguish itself, if only because, as Michelle described it, it tasted like "manufactured orange."

In the end Stan's is a fine donut shop that seems to distinguish itself by variety, rather than quality. It was a fun little shop, and I found myself rooting for the place. I'm sure if there were a Stan's right around the corner from where I live, I'd be quite contented to visit it as my dependable local donut shop. But you know what they say, "Jack of all donuts, master of none."

Frittelli's Doughnuts & Coffee

Last, and decidedly least, is Frittelli's. The first shop on MSN's list of "America's Best Donuts," it automatically brought with it higher expectations. Fritelli's seemed to embrace the expectations, too, by taping the very same MSN article to one of their display windows and prominently displaying a chalk board sign on the sidewalk that claimed "America's Best Donuts!" Alas, the store epitomized my greatest fears style over substance.

Frittelli's appears to market itself as a high end, designer donut (sorry "doughnut") and coffee shop that caters to the rich and famous in Beverly Hills. Indeed the doughnuts can only be had at designer prices. Our half dozen donuts cost us over $11.00 -- more than twice what we paid at Randy's and Stan's. I suppose none of the other places gave us a nice baby blue box though.

(Yes, that's the Food Network on in the background on an HDTV. Perhaps now you're starting to sense why the doughnuts were so costly)

We started with the maple bar:

Once we divided up the doughnut and parsed out samples, Michelle and Bryan gave initially glowing reviews -- with Michelle focusing her comments on the donut's texture. What I tasted, though, was a very ordinary maple bar, and that wasn't enough for me. Once I noted this outloud, Michelle and Bryan were both more moderate in their praise.

We then sampled their blueberry buttermilk doughnut:

The buttermilk doughnut was more dense than what we'd tasted at Randy's. In fact, it reminded me a lot of banana bread. It was a very average doughnut -- with blueberries.

We next tried the "Heath Bar Crunch" chocolate doughnut:

Admittedly, it had never occured to me to put a candy bar on top of a doughnut. I liked the Heath Bar, but the rest of the doughnut was unremarkable. In fact, the candy was sweet enough that it shifts your tastebuds can't taste the donut. Perhaps they intended it that way. (Honestly, I'm not sure I like the idea of candy toppings on donuts.)

Lastly we went with the trifecta of designer doughnuts: butterscotch, orange cranberry, and red velvet:

The orange cranberry doughnut actually came closest to matching Fritelli's reputation -- an orange cake donut, orange glaze, with cranberries sprinkled on top. I felt like I was eating something fancy.

The butterscotch doughnut tasted nothing like butterscotch, and the red velvet doughnut tasted like a bland chocolate (albeit deep red chocolate). With each of these cake doughnuts, the cake itself wasn't nearly as fresh as it had been at Randy's, and I found my I was reminded more of Mag's consistency and texture more than anything else. In a blind taste test they might have easily been from one of the inferior donut shops here locally.

Throughout our sampling, I remained quite cognizant of the price of the doughnuts (nearly $2 each), as well as the chalkboard promises of "America's #1 Doughnuts." Perhaps that's why, on the whole, I found Frittelli's utterly disappointing. Indeed, Frittelli's promises high end, designer flavors, and sometimes the donuts actually tasted like what they were described to be. But even when the taste matched, I often only tasted a very ordinary cake doughnut with exotic flavors. On the scale of doughnuts I've eaten and donut shops I've visited, it would never even occur to me to place Frittelli's anywhere near the top -- even ignoring the price disparity. Were Frittelli's just around the corner from my home, I suspect I'd never even be tempted to visit. And if I was, the cost of those donuts would probably easily drive me elsewhere. The doughnuts just aren't good enough.

So in the end, my research brought mixed results. We confirmed one truly top notch donut shop, enjoyed an average donut shop with lots of character, and, despite it's recent national acclaim, exposed a pretender. All in a day's work.

* For further details, see the 2nd half of the now two year old post on my Top 21 Donut/Pastry Experiences of All Time

Changing of Seasons

2007-09-27T20:24:00.000-07:00

Summer has slipped quietly into Fall here in San Diego. The once unmanagable heat, which twice this summer required us to condescend and turn on our air conditioning, has given way to the crisp 78 degree Autumn air.

The changing of seasons has given cause for deep reflection. And, In pondering my existence the past few days, measuring it against the perilous times we are in, I've been stuck with one almost irrepressible thought:

I still cannot be trusted with an open bag of Peanut M&Ms, no matter the size, and no matter how many I may have already eaten in a day.

'Tis the Season

2007-09-23T20:24:00.001-07:00

Too early for candy corn?

I didn't think so either.

How to Eat Fried Dough

2007-09-15T21:10:00.000-07:00

We returned from Oahu Monday morning.* Those looking for a travel log should look elsewhere. Here we deal with donuts.

The first sampling came from Napoleon's Bakery, which accompanies the Hawaiian restaurant chain Zippy's. We stopped by in the late afternoon to look over the dinner menu, though it was the bakery that intrigued me.**

What you're looking at, and what caught my eye, was this chocolate yeast raised donut. It was a new concept to me, and I had no reason to resist.

While a unique concept, the chocolate yeast raised donut proved to be unremarkable. The chocolate in the dough added very little to the donut beyond the color. still, I didn't lament the 93 cents it cost me to try it.

A few days later we stopped by Agnes' Portuguese Bakery in Kailua. Michelle raved about these malasadas:

I didn't. They have to be eaten warm to be tolerable. Michelle would talk of the crispy outside and the softy and chewy "delightfully warm" interior, with just the right amount of sugar. Perhaps too she was swayed by the notion that their Portguese donuts. Had they been called "Oversized Hush Puppies coated in sugar", she may better have seen them for what they were.

At any rate, I wasn't so easily fooled. Granted, as Michelle pointed out, all doughnuts are ultimately only a combination of fried dough and sugar. Not all donuts, however, compel such coarse reminders of that.

I, instead, spent my morning appetite on these bad boys:

I decided to tackle this enormous cinammon roll, as well as a macademia nut covered maple bar. Both were well dressed up, and undoubtedly would've tasted better if I felt like I could have afforded some milk to go along with them.*** Neither, however, left a lasting impression.

Lastly, while vacationing I ran across an article purporting to list "America's Best Donuts." I'm more than a little suspicious that most, if not all, of the donut shops made the list because they're famous or quirky -- not because they've got America's best donuts. However, one on the list, Randy's Donuts, was only a few blocks from where we parked in Los Angeles.

Groggy though we were from a miserable red-eye, we left a place in our schedule for Randy's. We bought several kinds. In fact, we had to buy $5.00 worth to be able to use the credit card.

The maple bar above was the best I've ever tasted: the frosting was perfectly sweet and the donut itself slightly crispy on the outside. I fear unless I return there again, I will never taste its equal.

The chocolate frosted cake donut above had semi-sweet chocolate frosting. I wasn't impressed, but then the maple bar had raised the stakes a bit. Michelle liked the buttermilk donut a lot too, but my tastebuds had been ruined by the time we got to that donut, so its subtleties were lost on me.

In all, a fine vacation, though I went far enough down that sugary path that we've resolved again to go without sugar...at least 'til Friday.

*First post in almost a month? Two words: Nintendo Wii.

** While there I observed a man wearing a U of U med school polo shirt. He seemed to have observed me too, and apparently wanted to confirm his suspicions I was LDS. His approach left something to be desired: he walked up to me and asked "Are you wearing two shirts because it's fashionable or because it's too cold out?" How would you have responded? I just started at him blankly for a few seconds before deciding to say flatly, "I'm not wearing two shirts."

***Our best efforts found a gallon of skim milk for $5 at Safeway.

President Faust's Passing

2007-08-16T20:24:00.000-07:00

I've been remiss in not honoring the passing of James E. Faust sooner.

For those not yet made aware, James E. Faust, Second counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, passed away last Friday due to causes incident to old age.

There are two talks I'll long remember President Faust for: The first was his talk for the 1998 First Presidency Christmas devotional when he spoke about the similarities between Santa Claus and the Savior -- thus putting to rest any doubts about whether Santa Claus is real.

The second talk was the one he gave during the Sunday morning session of the October 1997 General Conference. It was titled "The Weightier Matters of the Law: Judgment, Mercy, and Faith." It was not so much the doctrine he taught but the emotion with which he shared the following story:

"I fear that some of our greatest sins are sins of omission. These are some of the weightier matters of the law the Savior said we should not leave undone. These are the thoughtful, caring deeds we fail to do and feel so guilty for having neglected them.

"As a small boy on the farm during the searing heat of the summer, I remember my grandmother Mary Finlinson cooking our delicious meals on a hot woodstove. When the wood box next to the stove became empty, Grandmother would silently pick up the box, go out to refill it from the pile of cedar wood outside, and bring the heavily laden box back into the house. I was so insensitive and interested in the conversation in the kitchen, I sat there and let my beloved grandmother refill the kitchen wood box. I feel ashamed of myself and have regretted my omission for all of my life. I hope someday to ask for her forgiveness."

As he drew near to the end of that story, emotion overcame him and he stood at the pulpit weeping as he tried to regain his composure. His tears offered a powerful and eloquent sermon that I have never forgotten.

After hearing of his passing, I thought of this quote of his from the Priesthood session from that same October 1997 conference:

"I would like to say a word to you brethren who are a little older. President J. Reuben Clark Jr., a Counselor in the First Presidency, used to say from this pulpit, 'Brethren, I hope I can remain faithful to the end.' At that time, President Clark was in his 80s.

"As a young man, I could not understand how this wise, learned, experienced, righteous Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ could have any concern for his own spiritual well-being. As I approach his age, I now understand."

There's little question but that he indeed remained faithful to the end. We will miss you, President Faust, and your good company, good humor, and good counsel. May we live faithful enough to qualify for the blessings you now enjoy.

Weightier Matters

2007-08-09T21:48:00.001-07:00

Faithful readers of the Forbidden Donut know that this is a forum for only the most serious of issues. Tonight's post is no different.

On my refrigerator, pinned beneath a magnet, currently rests a coupon from a recent Ralph's circular offering 2 12-14 oz. bags of M&Ms for $2.00. I'm wondering whether I should use it.

Here's my quandry: this morning I reached my long sought after weight loss goal--235 lbs.* Alas, being under 240 lbs. isn't all it's cracked up to be, since, among several remaining physical impefections, my ab muscles remain hidden. Indeed, it will still be with great caution and reticence that I'll take my shirt off on those Hawaiian beaches in a few short weeks.

Partly because of that, and partly for good measure, I've determined I should probably strive to lose another 5 to 10 lbs. (since I've obviously still got it to lose). I figure this will at least give me a good buffer zone just in case I ever feel like I need to eat a dozen donuts or something similar after a particularly trying day at work (or better yet -- for no reason at all).

But the coupon expires next week. Given our impending trip, do I trust myself to buy 2 more bags of M&Ms? The real question is: Have I reached that threshold of responsibility where I can buy those bags of M&Ms and do anything other than scarf them both down on consecutive evenings?

History says no. Indeed, history says the M&Ms would stay in my secret stash jar for a day, maybe two, maybe even a week. But while they're there, I'll be thinking about them. Always thinking about them. And as soon as I open up the bag, I'm only 8 or 9 handfuls and a stomach ache away from finishing it off. Numbness to follow, then contrition, and finally, the next evening, increased cravings for more M&Ms. It's at this point when I talk myself into just eating the 2nd bag all at once and getting those M&Ms out of the house. A stomach ache follows, then contrition, and then the cravings return the next night. Before I know it, seven years have gone by filled out by delightful but regrettable treats, and thousands of promises made and broken to start in earnest tomorrow.

And yet...isn't it a sacrilege to pass up the chance to buy a 12 oz. bag of Peanut M&Ms for $1.00? That's the question that needs to be answered before next Wednesday, when the coupon expires.

* I actually hit this weight a few weeks ago on a fast Sunday but was so hungry by the end that I decided to eat several bowls of Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms -- that set me back a few days.

Living In Fear

2007-07-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

Michelle & I both managed to finish Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows late last night: Michelle finished around 1 a.m. I followed about an hour and a half later.* Decision time came at about 10 p.m. We'd both been reading about two hours (two separate books, since I was adamant about not sharing in those first few days) when I made the decision to throw caution into the wind and plow through the rest of the book**. I think, perhaps, I may have set the record for the quickest finish for a working bishopric member with two little kids.

Finishing the book meant no longer living in fear -- fear both of those demented souls anxious to spoil the ending, and those who, by overestimating their cleverness at keeping secrets, inadvertently give it away. This is why we tried to keep a low profile, avoided discussing the book with anyone at church, and had to shew away our Sunday evening guest when she mentioned she was reading the book.

In the end, the book, especially the unspoiled ending, was well worth the added measure of security.***

* No, it's not because I read slower. The Federal Government seems to frown upon reading for pleasure during the work day. This is why I was about 100 pages behind.

** It remains unconfirmed, but I may well have finished the book in record time for the category of "working bishopric members with two little kids."

*** It might not have been worth it if I'd ended up missing my court appearances this morning, which I did not.

WiiBay

2007-07-16T21:45:00.000-07:00

As if my week weren't already eventful enough, last Saturday we made an afternoon trip to Costco. We'd been hoping only for some bread, tortillas, lunchmeat (and fine samples), but ended up finding a pallet of Nintendo Wii's for sale. I had been searching stores for them casually ever since they came out last November. I'd never found one.

Knowing, as I did, that demand for the Wii continues to outstrip supply -- likely well into next year -- it was a golden find. I wasn't strong enough to resist. But then, I didn't try. Almost as quickly as I saw them on the pallet, I read the sign quickly, put it in my cart, and moved on to buy some tortillas. Michelle even expressed delight.

As we got to the checkout I looked back at the pallet. Several more had disappeared since I'd last seen it. We then raced home. I quickly checked eBay to verify my suspicions, and then I took Jared with me back to Costco to buy two more*.

Yes, you're welcome to come over and play.

*There were five left by the time I got in the check out line again.

Two Stories of Obsession

2007-07-13T20:56:00.000-07:00

Alas, I'm left alone on a Friday night with only my blog to keep me company. How dreadful my situation must be!

Yet there is reason for optimism.

The world is gearing up for two major events next week, either one of which would leave their respective fan bases scrambling to catch their breath. Combined, the results may well be cataclysmic. Surely you're familiar with both: the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and, only slightly less well known, NCAA Football 2008.

As to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, some might be aware I recently took 6 weeks to reread the first six books -- almost to the exclusion of all else.* Having re-read the books, puzzled through Snape's return to the dark side and Dumbledore's demise, I might have thought few people in the world would be looking forward to Book 7 more than I was.

Indeed, I was mistaken. A friend of mine recently disclosed he'd published an electronic book, entitled Harry Potter 6 3/4: The Unofficial Harry Potter Index. The book reveals both an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter*, and an index of most everything that shows up in the first six Harry Potter books. Jared then takes his research and offers his predictions on what's going to happen in Book 7. I have not read his book and make no vouches for its accuracy or credibility (though it is nice to see his wife gave a testimonial for the book). I note, though, knowing how thorough he was, that I have not read his book for fear that he may have gotten things exactly right -- and I don't want him ruining the book for me. For anyone curious or interested, he's no longer charging for the book. Email me and I'll send you a copy (with his blessing).

As to NCAA 2008, the game will be released on Tuesday -- though there are reports that some stores have broken the honor code and released the game early (No comment on whether or not I happened to visit two different stores today in hopes of confirming such reports and finding an early copy).

I have a long and storied history with the NCAA Football franchise, though again, there may be crazy people more ready to demonstrate their devotion than I. For my part, I actually bought a Playstation 2 last week for the sole purpose of playing this game, particularly online with family and friends. I also splurged on a special memory card that allows me to download the named rosters for all 110 Division I NCAA Teams (said rosters having been assembled by the truly obsessed).

I had initially proposed taking a week off work to both read Book 7 and get the NCAA game out of my system. Apparently, though, we're already using my vacation time on some trip to Hawaii, and Michelle claims it's not refundable. My suspicion, though, is that she just wants first crack at the game.

* Unhealthy in a good way...kind of. It's like me buying a bag of Double Stuf Oreos, then eating the entire bag in one sitting. Unhealthy? Obviously, but also mildly entertaining -- especially if I decide to blog about it.

I hope they call me on a ...

2007-07-11T21:30:00.001-07:00

As part of my new bishopric duties, I showed up at the church tonight wearing a white shirt and tie. I had expected to attend opening exercises for mutual. As it happened, however, the missionaries were in the parking lot with a number of priests (also in white shirts and ties) gathered round. Apparently, it was "exchange night" with the priests.*

For a moment it seemed they might need someone else to drive, and I was hardly in a position to make myself seem unavailable.

At one point, an aged onlooker in a Scout leader uniform wondered in what seemed to be a mocking tone of curiosity -- mingled with an air of superiority: "Hey, are you guys going tracting tonight?"** (As though it could be the evening's only worthy pursuit if we were to spend it with the missionaries).

"I sure hope not," I blurted before having a chance to measure my words. The uniformed inquirer was taken aback by the apparent defiance, which I then pressed further by noting "I've already done two years of tracting."

Not willing to give up, he then rejoined with what seemed to be a mounting sense of superiority "Well, we've all done two years of tracting."

"Ah yes," I replied wryly, now determined to win the point, "but I made sure to do mine well enough that I wouldn't have to do it again."

I suppose some see a kind of bravado to tracting. It's like missionary manual labor -- meaning it's hard, and not something missionaries generally look forward to. Perhaps if I were a more upstanding member of the church and a more diligent returned missionary, I would've been chomping at the bit to get out there and go tract out my neighborhood and show both the missionaries and the priests how we Spanish missionaries worked it in Roseville.

Not tonight.

* Why they stopped calling them "splits" is beyond me -- maybe to avoid the inference or implication that ice cream might be involved?

** Apparently he felt safe that he wouldn't volunteered since he was wearing a scout uniform.

You'd Better Watch Out

2007-07-02T20:48:00.001-07:00

From reports, Jared had an especially difficult day behaving. He talked with me calmly about when I came home from work and sat next to him in the "time out" corner. In fact, he mentioned at one point that "Mommy and I are mad today." He then seemed to settle down, for a time.

Not much later he was acting up again. Michelle, feeling frazzled, resorted to the only disciplinary option she felt she had left: calling Santa Claus.

Jared happened to overhear her conversation and begged for the chance to talk with Santa as well (no doubt to give a report on Michelle). Essentially, Jared had to be obedient and good or Santa would not bring him any presents this year.

Jared quickly fell in line.

Later, Michelle called Santa back to report Jared's improved behavior. Jared continued to beg for the chance to speak with the jolly old elf, so we gave him the chance. I was on the other end of the line practicing my best "Ho, Ho, Ho", when little Jared got on the phone.

"Hi Santa," he said confidently.

Santa then conveyed to Jared the need to be obedient to be on the "nice" list this December. Jared reluctantly agreed.

I suspect if we use this technique too often, the magic might wear off. Only a few minutes after his rare conversation with Santa, he noted to us "I don't like Santa."

One For the Record Books

2007-06-16T20:15:00.000-07:00

I'm sure most of you were hanging onto to your seats anxious for updates on the success or failure of my month long commitment to do without sugar. I've now gone 21 days without it.* Its siren song remains alluring, but has less power over me -- for now. I've matched that effort by swearing off most carbs after dinner and exercising almost daily. As a result, I've lost over 10 lbs. in this same span.

A nearby Ralphs recently sold 12 oz. bags of M&Ms for a dollar a bag (with coupon). Tempting fate, I had Michelle purchase 2 bags of peanut M&Ms for safe keeping nearly two weeks ago. I haven't touched them.**

Last week Albertsons offered all General Mills cereal at 6 for $10 -- 8 for $10 on a special Thursday 8 hour sale. Additionally, for every 3 boxes of cereal purchased, they gave out a coupon for a free gallon milk and a coupon for an additional $2.00 off the purchase of 5 boxes of General Mills Cereal. At last count, I think I purchased 23 boxes that week*** -- also I believe a Clark record.

* By my calculations, it's been over 8 years since I've gone this long without satisfying my sweet tooth.

** By my calculations, this is the longest any two bags of Peanut M&Ms have survived in the Clark household since the candy was invented. [Not counting, of course, the time last year when I'd purchased 24 packages of discounted "Pirates of the Carribean" M&Ms. The fact that any two of those packages survived more than two weeks had little to do with self-control -- since all 24 of the 12 oz. packages didn't last much longer than a month collectively.]

*** No, Michelle wasn't thrilled with me buying 23 boxes of cereal - citing some phantom "storage space" issue. As it happens, though, aside from the bargain basement price of the cereal itself, these milk coupons turned out to be quite valuable: They're apparently worth "up to $4.50" depending on the price of the gallon of milk. However, our local store automatically rings up the coupon as worth $4.50, irrespective of the actual price of the milk. Last Saturday then -- while I was buying 5 boxes of cereal, a gallon of milk, and some 99 cent day old bread -- the cashier accidentally rang up the milk coupon twice, deducting $9.00 from the total, and I ended up with a grocery bill of $1.19. [Of course as soon as I noticed the error, I pointed it out to the manager and cashier, both of whom decided the mistake wasn't worth correcting]. Today I actually used 1 of my milk coupons to buy 2 gallons of milk: the 2nd gallon ended up costing me 19 cents. I suspect these kinds of victories can only be truly enjoyed by those on a tight budget. Or maybe just by me.

**** For those keeping score, this is the 150th posting on the Forbidden Donut.

New Frontiers

2007-06-03T20:52:00.000-07:00

Tuesday evening I got an unexpected call from the Stake President inviting me for an interview the following evening. Despite the fact that we've only been in the ward six months, and that I hardly know anyone, I was asked to serve as 2nd counselor in a reorganized bishopric. We were sustained and set apart this morning.

I confess I felt absolutely ridiculous sitting on the stand today -- all the more because I knew that most of the ward probably has no idea who I am. * I've spent the rest of the day bewildered.

Oh, and I've now been 8 days without sugar.

*Indeed, one woman confessed to me afterward that she never remembers seeing me in church before today.

Desperate Times

2007-05-27T20:11:00.000-07:00

It's now official. Michelle recently set in motion plans for a week long trip to Hawaii in early September -- without the kids. She can hardly contain her excitement (though I've had difficulty discerning whether her affection the past few days is because she loves me or because she loves this vacation).

At any rate, that gives me little more than three months to at last meet my weight loss goals, which right now are about 20 lbs. away.

Toward that end, and recognizing that the love of sugar is the root of all evil, I committed last night to do without sugar for nearly a month -- using the same kind of stick incentives that've brought me success in the past. It's unfortunate that it came to this, but alas, desperate times call for desperate measures. I lament that I'm not stronger and cannot instead simply adopt a protocol of moderation.

So, as a personal favorite to me, please feel free to enjoy generous amounts of peanut M&Ms, Cookies & Cream ice cream*, and sale priced sugar cereal over the next month or so. It will mercifully mean less for me.

*A recent weakness.

American Idol Woes

2007-05-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

There it was. Michelle and I had invested almost two hours in the American Idol season finale -- on a 20 minute DVR delay. We'd waded through random musical numbers, including "Wind Beneath My Wing" from an apparently inebriated Bette Midler.* We endured awkward, cringe-inducing "Golden Idol" awards, and a Clive Owen speech about how wonderful American Idol is and how many records they've sold. We didn't want to, but we did -- and it would all be worth it when they announced the winner of this year's American Idol is...

Hey! Wait a minute! What the...?!

Alas, our DVR stopped recording the show just as the winner was about to be announced. For a few seconds, Michelle alternated between anxious, high-pitched squeals, and threatening growls (strangely resembling a menacing coyote).** Since we'd been on a 20 minute DVR, we totally missed the ending. All was lost. We had to check out the online news websites to find out Jordin won.

I blame on the fact that Michelle opted against voting for Melinda Doolittle last week. (I still debating whether to ever forgive her for that.)

* Though maybe she was just trying to liven up the song by acting inebriated.

** She also came very close violating one our recently added house rules: Don't throw the big TV.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

2007-05-24T20:19:00.000-07:00

I took Jared to his first Cubs game a few days ago -- they were playing the Padres here in San Diego. I'm not sure which of us was more excited: Jared, who would get to ride the trolley, drink lemonade, and eat popcorn; or me, getting to watch the Cubs in an idealized father-son evening.

It started out that way. Jared was fascinated by the trolley, peppered me with questions most of the way there, and stole the hearts of the surrounding passengers.

The game, however, was a little different story. Oh the hot dog, lemonade, nachos, and ice cream cone were everything Jared had hoped for. He cheered for the fireworks following the home runs (and I let him, even though they were for the wrong team), and asked me more then twice when we were going to be able to get out on the field and play. I hadn't quite counted on the possibility, though, of a nearby drunk guy screaming words Jared had never heard before, at the top of his lungs, at some of our favorite players. The man must have thought himself quite amusing...that is, until I put him in a non-lethal version of the Siberian choke-hold.*

Michelle and I are now waiting out the next few days to see if Jared managed to learn any new words lately.

*No, not really. Only with great effort, however, did I manage to avoid throwing peanuts at him.

Mother's Day Meanderings

2007-05-13T20:05:00.000-07:00

Semi-organized thoughts and anecdotes from the last three weeks:

Among the highlights of my two week training in South Carolina: I went nearly two weeks without sugar. To acknowledge the accomplishment, I devoured a 12 oz. bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms for dinner the following evening.* [Obviously, as long as I'm eating them to replace a meal -- instead of in addition to a meal -- I figure I'm cutting calories.]
Leading up to perhaps the most important day this century -- July 21, 2007 -- I've started re-reading the Harry Potter series. Oddly, when I've been caught reading these books on the trolley or an airplane several adults have felt quite at liberty to strike up a conversation discussing the books [the kids normally just smile or nod approvingly.]
I set a new record yesterday on our exercise bike: 10 miles, burning 596 calories in 24:36. This bested my previous record for the 10 miler, set in May 2005, by 14 calories and a full 20 seconds. I chalk it up mostly to temporary insanity and a dash of guilt over what I'd eaten the night before.
I've now seen two late night screenings of Spider-Man 3 since it came out last week, and have fallen asleep during both viewings.
We went out for pizza with friends Friday night. What does it say about a pizza place that their best dish is an ice cream sundae?
Jared and I got Michelle a Mother's Day gift yesterday -- an IKEA gift card. Though Jared was supposed to tell Michelle it was a secret, he instead immediately told her exactly what we'd bought: a red card. Even so, our established family routine should have required Michelle to at least feign some obliviousness [and thus maintain the illusion of a surprise]. After all, it's only common courtesy. But she didn't. Instead, she defiantly declared that she was pretty sure she knew what we'd bought. So I gave her the gift a day early and she lamented that I'd spoiled Mother's Day. That'll teach her.
Speaking of Mother's Day, Michelle, anxious for a sugar fix of her own this evening and recognizing she'd used up all the eggs yesterday, asked that I make her no bake cookies tonight. [In my youth I was a master at the art of the no bake cookie, having learned to keep them on the stove for just the right amount of time to ensure the proper texture.] Making them tonight, though, brought back teenage memories, including one time I had made no bake cookies on 3 consecutive evenings. On the third evening, when my dad found me hovering over the stove as the milk, sugar, butter, and cocoa came to a rolling boil, he rebuked me and wondered openly whether I wasn't addicted to sugar.** Obviously he couldn't have been further from the truth.

* My research indicates that Peanut Butter M&Ms are far inferior to their more upstanding older brother, the Peanut M&Ms How can I tell? In a typical 12 oz. bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms, I start feeling disgust and regret before I even hit the halfway point in the bag. With the 13 oz. Peanut M&Ms bags, those feelings are easily delayed until at least 2/3 of the way through the bag. Never mind that I end up finishing the bag in one sitting either way, the Peanut M&Ms offer a far less unpleasant experience.

** Mind you, he never actually told me to stop making the cookies.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

2007-04-22T19:29:00.000-07:00

A few of us at my office are headed to South Carolina for two weeks of training from the Department of Justice. The thought is that we'll emerge from the training as able trial lawyers.

We had one of my co-workers over for dinner recently who is also slated for the training. In conversation his wife expressed some reticence about the two-week training and the possibility (surely mostly in jest) that he'd be swept away by some of the solicitious eye candy that'd surely be attending the conference and sizing him up.

After they left, I wondered openly to Michelle why she didn't share similar concerns. I expected something from her that both reinforced her trust in me, and also reminded me how dashingly handsome I remain. Instead I got this:

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. I'm just worried about how much you're going to eat!"

Sunday School

2007-04-22T17:26:00.000-07:00

She played contented in my arm
And cooed mid my hand's soft caress
I felt to catch her playful glance
And hold fast to her trusting touch.

But I could not hold her tight enough
And the moments hurried past,
unmoved by helpless pleas.
Time would rob me of my little girl;
I missed her already.

House Rules

2007-04-16T20:47:00.000-07:00

We had family home evening tonight. Owing to some of the events of the day in our home (which perhaps it'd be better if history mostly forgot), Michelle gave an impromptu lesson on "rules". She'd hoped to have us collaboratively agree to a "No yelling" rule. Once Jared learned what a rule is, though, he sponanteously suggested several of his own:

Don't kick the lamp
Don't kick the clock
Don't kick the computer
Don't kick the walls
Don't kick the couch
Go on the potty
Don't pee on the floor (this had been suggested previously)
Don't hit, except for the mean, mean pirates
Don't throw the big TV

Our home feels much safer now.

Old Habits

2007-04-10T21:04:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year.

It doesn't matter what kinds of promises I made to myself in the contrary...With a few minutes to kill during my lunch hour today, my feet made their way to a nearby downtown Ralphs to survey the leftover Easter candy.

I came home with three bags of candy: Cadbury Mini-Eggs, Reeses Pieces, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Each were $1 a bag.

Throw Down

2007-04-10T20:39:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, Michelle threw down the gauntlet, sending a message that her cooking needs to be taken seriously.

First there were the birthday cupcakes on Friday. Up into all hours of the night on Thursday, Michelle put together both strawberry and brownie cupcakes. Those strawberry cupcakes, though a little understated, ranked among the best cupcakes I've ever eaten*. The brownie cupcakes were no slouches either.

Saturday night Michelle took it to another level and put together a restaurant quality Mexican meal (that I would've paid money for): carne asada, grilled shrimp, rice, beans, homemade salsa, and guacamole. It's easily in the top three meals she's made of all time.

If that weren't enough, there was the three layer, triple chocolate cake, with ganache filling.

Yes, I know. I was thinking the same thing. I married well (Lots of hours as a missionary tracting hard in the rain -- ask anyone).

Anyway, please, take your best shot at matching Michelle's cooking. She'd like nothing better. Be warned, though, I've yet to meet her culinary equal (except for that one time we went to see Alton Brown). Just make sure I get to taste the fruits of your labors.

*At least one co-worker gave voice to the same opinion. Another, perhaps overhearing those comments and sensing the challenge, brought in her own cupcakes on Monday for no apparent reason. For the juicy details, please email the secret family question to my email address.

Cause for Celebration

2007-04-07T06:42:00.000-07:00

I'm 29 years old today, and we're going to celebrate (the 15 or so grey hairs on my head notwithstanding).

A few years ago, as my birthday approached, I had a conversation with Michelle that started down the well worn path of feigning disinterest in any birthday celebration. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's not that big a deal" was the general theme of my remarks. Michelle rebuked me and effectively stated that birthdays are a big deal in our house, and I'd just have to deal with it.

Ever since I've allowed myself the indulgence of looking forward to my birthday, and reveled in the fact that we make a big deal about birthdays in our house.

Conference Chaos

2007-04-01T20:27:00.000-07:00

Years ago when I was a missionary in the budding metropolis of Corning, CA (the olive capital of the United States). Soaking in another conference weekend in the chapel, I vowed then that I would attend every session of conference for the rest of my life.

Alas, any hopes of staying true to that promise ended a long time ago. Now, having two little ones, the notion of attending (and even paying attention to) a full session of general conference -- other than the priesthood session -- seems like wishful thinking. As a result over the last few years conference weekend has become a mix of probably uplifting messages that I only catch parts of (and not even those parts not very well) amid a guilt riddled two days where I feel I could've caught more if I'd only exerted myself more. My sense is it's even worse for Michelle -- who doesn't get to attend the priesthood session.

And here's a random conference question I've long been trying to figure out: When I'm watching conference on a delayed schedule, is it as sacreligious as it feels to leave my eyes open during the prayer?

Unsolicited Advice

2007-03-26T21:52:00.000-07:00

I've discovered the secret to exercise and weight loss. It will soon be revealed to the world in a hard cover book, value priced at $19.95, complete with meal planner, easy to follow recipes, and a picture of me on the cover showing off my bulging biceps.

But to those faithful readers who still bother to check this blog -- even though it's been weeks since I've had a decent post -- I'll sum it up for you for free:

The stick often works better than the carrot on lazy people -- at least initially. Indeed, don't be afraid to use a big stick.

Take me, for instance. I've been in a rut for weeks (some might say months) where exercise has been difficult and good eating near impossible. I mostly blame Michelle.*

I've tried incentives, and at one point even small sticks. For instance, Michelle and I both agreed that if we ate sugar during the week, the offending spouse would have to withdraw $5 from his/her personal account and place it in the other's. This worked fine until we realized that if we both cheated at the same time we effectively got to have our sweets and neither had to give up anything. Obviously we can't have the penalty money going to each other.

So it was time to bring out a bigger stick. Now, if I cheat and eat sugar I have to put $50 in my children's 529 college saving's fund -- which means I'll never see it again. I've also made the same threats against myself (always in writing and always sent to Michelle) when I need a little extra motivation to exercise in the evening. And of course, it works.

Now some of you might not have $50, so feel free to use whatever is precious to you. It needs to be precious enough that it'll be painful if you fail, and make sure someone is there who is willing to punish you when you do (Michelle has only been all too eager). You'll be amazed at what you can accomplish when someone effectivley has a whip at your back, ready to lash you at the first sign of failure.

Obviously I don't want to jinx things, but I think you're looking at the next best seller.

*Required Disclaimer (as the pressure eases on the strangle hold around my neck): I'm kidding folks. Definitely kidding. Mostly.

Help Solve a Crime

2007-03-15T22:07:00.000-07:00

I came home this evening to find a type-written note at our door. Apparently, our apartment/condo complex's beloved advertising blimp is missing. The situation is grave, indeed, and someone in management really isn't happy about it. So they've crafted a letter offering both a carrot and a stick (though mostly a stick) to the residents of the complex -- which is no doubt intended to induce shame and guilt in even the most innocent tenants (which we are). Sadly, it's mostly made me giggle (though I feel guilty about the giggling).

Perhaps you can help solve the crime.

"Subject: Blimp vandalism, $500 reward for information

Last night the blimp that we use for advertising above the property [and what a blimp it was!] was cut from its securing lines, thus allowing it to float away in a totally uncontrolled manner. This act of criminal vandalism resulted in a loss exceeding $7,000.00 and is a felony. In additions, the person(s) responsible for this act created a significant safety hazard to aircraft in the area as the blimp was allowed to freely float in the airspace used by commercial and private aircraft en route to Montgomery, Gillespie and Lindbergh airports. Further, at such time as the blimp descends from flight, there is no way to know where it may land, placing persons and property on the ground at risk.

We have notified the San Diego and La Mesa Police Departments as well as the Federal Aviation Administration of the situation and all agencies are taking this action very seriously. Formal investigations are being commenced by these agencies and we anticipate residents will be contacted during the investigation. We ask that you cooperate fully with any representatives of these agencies in their investigations and supply any information you may have as to suspicious activity or personal witnessing of the destructive action relation to the blimp by any party. Additionally, we are offering a reward in the amount of $500 to anyone who provides us with information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person(s) responsible for this irresponsible and reckless act.

In the course of our operation of the blimp we took specific precautions against accidental loss by adding extra securing lines and metal reinforcement to the primary cable in order to avoid potential for injury or damage. For someone to have cut the steel-reinforced line, a premeditated and planned action against the welfare of people both on and off the property was committed. We ask that if contacted, you assist law enforcement with their investigation and efforts to identify and ultimately apprehend the responsible party.

Please contact us in the [...] management office at [...] with any information you may be able to provide and we will insure that the proper authorities are notified. Thank you for any assistance you can provide in this matter."

Buffalo Chicken Blues

2007-03-05T21:22:00.000-08:00

Perhaps you're not as easily taken in as I am, but then I'm not usually a sucker for hamburger commercials.

I found I could not resist, however, Carl's Jr.'s latest creation -- the Buffalo Chicken Sandwich. I wasn't fond of the commercial, mind you, but the sandwich seemed to offer a piece of the halcyon days of my youth, when a perfect weekend required little more than a good video game, a pizza, 50 wings, and a bottle or two of orange soda.*

My interest in the sandwich worked itself into a frenzy over the weekend when we got a coupon in the mail for a "buy one get one free."

Alas, what a tragic disappointment. One might have easily mistaken it for a McChicken sandwich drenched in Frank's Hot sauce. Yet at the same time they have so little confidence in their sauce and in the sandwich, that they feel the need to slather one side with a forgettable ranch sauce. The result is a dismal mess -- and not the kind of appetizing mess they'd lead you to believe.

So, learn to be wiser than I have been. Stay away from the Buffalo Chicken Sandwich at Carl's Jr. Stick with the pizza and wings.

*I grew up in a world where it was near unthinkable to order a pizza without an order of 50 or so chicken wings. The only question was how hot you wanted them. It was a simpler time.

Bleak Prognosis

2007-02-26T18:31:00.000-08:00

Before I visited the doctor today, Michelle decided to enter my recent symptoms into Web MD - the all-knowing, consumer friendly, website -- to discern what I might be suffering from (and oh how I have suffered).

Here are the symptoms: a painful sore throat, lightheadedness, a fever, swollen and painful-to-the-touch-lymph-nodes in my neck, insatiable appetite for peanut M&Ms.* Alas, things did not look good, for, according to the website, I may well be suffering from. . . the Plague.** My concern only grew upon learning that, apparently, the bacteria causing the disease "can be carried by small wild rodents, other wild animals or even household pets," all of which are terms that have been used to describe my children.

You can probably imagine my relief when it turned out to be a simple case of strep throat.

*Okay, okay, so maybe she only put in "enlarged or swollen glands."
**Web MD then helpfully points out "It is possible that the main title of the report Bubonic Plague is not the name you expected." It then provides a few helpful synonyms, including "Black Death", and "Black Plague."

Sick Day

2007-02-26T10:05:00.000-08:00

I have been miserably sick all weekend. To make matters worse, there's been nothing good on TV.

7th Inning Stretch

2007-02-18T21:25:00.000-08:00

Today marks seven years of marriage for Michelle and I. Spurning the traditional anniversary gifts, I bought her a 5 lb. fillet of beef from Costco this year -- and two vanilla beans.

Now, before you start throwing rocks at me, know this: I've never seen her so giddy over anything I've gotten her before.* After spending the day scheming, she excitedly informed me tonight she's got five recipes in mind that she's anxious to use the filet on.

For her part, she's arranged for baby sitting and a golf outing tomorrow morning, as long as her clavical is feeling up to it.** I note without reservation that she's my favorite.

In other news, we also jointly resolved -- for the 37th time this year -- to go without sugar for a time. For those not keeping track, there've been 49 days so far this new year. The pact comes with cruel twist: each violation is punishable by a $5 fine, payable to the other, out of the guilty party's personal account.

All the same, happy anniversary to us!

* Not to be compared to the pound of veal given to a 4 yr. old Bill Murray in Scrooged that lead to the following exchange:

Four year old Bill Murray: "But Daddy, I asked Santa for a choo-choo."
Drunken Butcher of a Father: "Then go and get a job and buy a choo-choo!"

Shortly following this sad exchange, the older Bill Murray is mocked for by the Ghost of Christmas Past for tearing upon witnessing the exchange, and Bill dryly retorts (in a way on Bill Murray can), "I was touched by a gift. A four-year-old kid receives what at today's prices is an expensive piece of meat."

**Indeed, as a federal employee I now count President's Day among my favorite holidays -- all the more because so many of the rest of you have to work.

The Anti Anti C.S. Lewis

2007-02-14T20:23:00.000-08:00

It's Valentine's Day. A day of love. A day of fun. A day of sugar cookies (for me anyway). Yet I am provoked to wrath.

A family friend recently decided to take a few swipes at C.S. Lewis, decrying, among other things, those who "constantly quote him." It's one thing indeed to check those foolish among us who might treat him as a prophet (he was not) or those who declare him to be "the be-all-end-all of the gospel" (which would be silly).* It's entirely another to disparage the man and his writings.

Tsk Tsk Sister Astle, I think you're making a big mistake -- a mistake you should be too smart to make.

Here's the first clue: you've admittedly never read anything he's written! Instead, your familiarity with C.S. Lewis appears to be based entirely on: (1) quotes from talks/church articles; (2) watching the recent cinematic adapation of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.
You've been given bread crumbs (and in the case of the movie, moldy bread crumbs) and yet seemed to have declared yourself familiar enough to give an opinion on the entire feast. Sure you are better than that.

Indeed, if you think simply that The Screwtape Letters gives "great points regarding the devil and his attempts to lead us away from our goals" then you have missed the weighter and more valuable portion of the book. The devils in the book are merely a vehicle for him to address subjects such as prayer, discipleship, humility, love, and death. Additionally, Letter VIII addresses trials or, as certain trials, "spiritual troughs." In all I have ever read on trials and enduring, I'm not sure if I've ever read anything quite as touching and inspiring. I'm quite serious.

Be careful not to cast the book aside just because people, including recently President Faust, -- are fond of quoting it, or because you perceive some have an unhealthy obsession with it. They're quoting it for a reason -- and they're not even quoting the best parts!

Ah, and you've apparently prejudged The Chronicles of Narnia because you've seen the latest movie. Not a good move (and, after repeated viewings, not that great of a movie). It's the same kind mistake you'd be making if you'd decided on the New Testament by comparing the battle scenes in the Four Gospels to the battle scenes in The Passion of the Christ. What battle scenes, you ask? Exactly. Let's just generally try to avoid judging a book based on the movie.**

You also don't want to miss out on several chapters in Mere Christianity, or the allegories in The Horse and His Boy, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Prince Caspian, and The Great Divorce. If that weren't enough, his books are refreshingly short.

So let me put it simply: Lewis was not a prophet. He is not "the be-all-end-all of the Gospel." Be that as it may, many, many of his writings (*not all*) are inspired and offering compelling insights on gospel principles -- far more than you've given him credit for. People do well to quote him.

Your criticism of his writing is uninformed and undeserved. Lest my wrath be upon you, I think you owe him an apology.

*I've never actually met or talked with anyone that I knew to be guilty of either offense. Furthermore, I'm almost certain I've heard and read the same conference talks and "countless church articles" that quote C.S. Lewis and have yet to sense any unhealthy admiration of the man or any undue weight to his writings.

**For what it's worth, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe is among my least favorite books in the Narnia Series.

Caveat Emptor (Let the Buyer Beware)

2007-02-11T21:08:00.000-08:00

A young boy once ventured to the top of a tall mountain. Near the top he encountered a venomous, talking snake. “Carry me down to the bottom of the mountain,” begged the snake, “and I promise I won’t bite you.” The boy had been warned about mountain snakes, but accepted the snake’s proposition anyway. After the boy carried the snake on the long journey down the mountain, he bent to put the snake down. The snake quickly bit the boy in the leg. Writhing in pain, and facing certain death (or at least amputation) the boy cried: “Why? Why did you bite me? You promised!”

“Ah,” said the snake, “but you knew what I was when you picked me up.”*

A few nights ago, my younger brother Matthew proposed marriage to a young lady. She apparently accepted. Before it’s too late, it seems only fitting that this young lady be informed of some of the standard terms, conditions, and disclaimers that accompany any marriage into the Clark family. As readers of the Forbidden Donut, you’re entitled to a sneak peek, especially in the event that you’re considering one of my still available siblings (and there are many) as a potential partner.

Dear Leslie,

What were you thinking?

Your decision to marry Matthew can only have resulted from one of two things: (1) you are crazy; or (2) Matt’s misrepresented what kind of family you are marrying into.

Suspecting you are not guilty of the former, and acting as the Clark family’s unauthorized legal representative in the protecting you (and us) against the latter, you are hereby informed and advised of the following:

1. If you’d rather not keep something a secret – say a proposal date or impending wedding – make your new mother and father in law among the first people you share it with. It's terribly important that you let them think it’s a secret. In fact, make sure you tell them not to tell a soul. Then wait for them to start dropping “subtle” hints about your secret to all they know, which hints make the secret all but impossible to discern.

2. Christmas mornings for you will hereafter begin at 4:30 a.m… or earlier.

3. Anything sweet or remotely tempting to eat (e.g., candy, cookies, cereal, baking soda) can’t be expected to last any longer than a few hours in your home. You’ll find this rule is unaffected by the quantity of the treats.

4. Peter does everything around here. He follows a long line of Clarks who formerly held that distinction.

5. If you find someone has raided the ice cream and left a spoon in the carton, it’s probably Leanne. Or it’s one of the rest us framing Leanne.

6. Your betrothed is generally beloved among his siblings, but he also seems to owe us money in varying amounts. We expect you’ll make good on his debts.

7. Yes, it’s true: We Clarks certainly sort laundry, but you’ll probably never catch anyone actually folding laundry. That notion is strange to us, no doubt the result of growing up in the back woods of Upstate New York.

8. When traveling with your future father-in-law, ready yourself two hours ahead of any intended departure, because that’s when he’s going to want to leave.

9. Speaking of your future father-in-law, you’ll never again want for school supplies.

10. And anytime you’re in Iowa, you’ll now have complimentary lifetime passes to Urbandale’s finest basement gym.

11. By now you’re already aware that we have an annual milkshake contest. Along these lines, be advised that just because someone makes a banana bread milkshake the year previous, this apparently does not mean that this same person actually likes bananas. In fact, it’s apparently supposed to mean that she hates bananas.

12. Along these same lines, you’re further informed that your opinion may be solicited as to whether or not a milkshake, by definition, requires that milk be added, or whether one may surreptitiously circumvent the process entirely by simply stirring in Oreos and M&Ms into half-melted ice cream and pretending she’s actually made a “shake.” (Not that I’m trying to suggest a position or anything, or that your chances of receiving a wedding gift will increase or decrease depending on your acquiescence to any perceived suggestion.)

13. If the family is playing wiffle ball, you may want to keep an extra eye on Nathan’s kids. No doubt Nathan’s supposed to be watching them, and no doubt he even thinks he’s watching them, but alas, they’re just as likely to be stranded in a ditch somewhere.

14. Be extra sensitive when your future husband comes home from a golf outing with his brothers. He doesn’t take losing well.

15. All the good cereal is on the top shelf of the food storage room downstairs. And no, we older kids (and we’re still trying to figure out whether Matt technically counts as one of the “older kids”) were never privy to the kind of smorgasbord now available at the Clark home on a daily basis. We had peanut butter toast.

16. Among the famous accomplishments of your in-laws: the world’s largest collection of DI books, consumption of a Big Texan meal (72 oz. steak, plus salad, baked potato, shrimp cocktail, and roll) in under an hour, a girl scout cookie eating champion (back when they were under $2 a box), a two-time popsicle eating champion, the Dr. Mario World Champion, a sister-in-law who once proudly walked around BYU campus with a paper bag on her head, and an ingenious cat trap.

17. And of course, a blogging brother-in-law with an unhealthy obsession with Peanut M&M’s – as long as they’re on sale.

If, after reading this letter, you still decide to go forward with the marriage, bienvenidos. You knew what we were when you picked us up.

Con Cariño,

Aaron

*I dutifully remind Michelle of this story whenever she identifies another weakness in my habits or character.

Life's Necessities

2007-02-07T20:59:00.000-08:00

Michelle and I made significant sacrifices enabling me to take my current job and move ourselves to San Diego -- none more harrowing than giving up premium cable and *sigh* dvr.

Three months into our San Diego, limited basic cable, non-dvr, experience, we're reeling.

How's the line go...?

"There there little luxury. Don't you cry. You'll be a necessity by and by."

Who could have predicted how excruciatingly painful it would be -- after 15 months without a commercial -- to be at their mercy every 7.5 minutes! Who could have foreseen the difficult of reverting back to a lifestyle requiring us to watch tv shows when they actually air or miss them entirely! Such misery!

What ended up tipping the scales, though, was Michelle's displeasure at Jared catching some unsavory commercials on otherwise relatively innocent tv shows. He'd ask "What's that Momma?", and Momma would blush and turn the channel.

So we're getting DVR again, though this time we'll forego renting a box from the cable company and just buy one that doesn't require a subscription. For whatever reason we're more willing to pay a bit more up front if it means we avoid the monthly rental fees.

Hey, after all, it's all about keeping our kids safe. Sometimes you've just gotta bite the bullet...for the kids.

Cause for Celebration

2007-02-05T20:13:00.000-08:00

We celebrated a momentous event tonight: Jared is potty-trained.

To mark the acheivement (which he attained by filling up an intricate sticker chart) we threw a party. Earlier in the day Michelle made a "purple hippo cake" at Jared's request:

We also got some Little Caesar's Pizza (in typical fashion, we ended up with four pizzas after I picked up two pizzas at the wrong Little Caesar's and then felt compelled to go pick up the two we'd actually ordered from a different store)*. He also got a "black knight" from Target, and is currently watching his favorite movie, the latest straight to DVD version of Brer Rabbit, featuring Danny Glover as the voice of Brer Turtle and Wanda Sykes as Sister Moon.

It can hardly be disputed: it pays to be potty-trained at the Clark house.

* Maybe someone out there can help us understand how Little Caesar's can offer large, one topping pizzas for $5.00, crazy bread for $1.00, and a special "Party Deal" to buy two one topping large pizzas, and two orders of crazy bread, for the bargain basement price of $12.99.

Momentary Lapse

2007-01-30T20:15:00.000-08:00

Oh yeah...I've got a blog, don't I?

I hope to get back to posting soon. In the meantime, try to get a jumpstart on your taxes.

Post Christmas Post, Part 2

2007-01-08T21:13:00.000-08:00

Umm...so my family wasn't supposed to be sick this long.

At any rate, here's what you missed since my Christmas Eve Post:

4.5 hours of opening presents on Christmas Morning (my family does it one gift at a time...and there were 17 people in the house);
The Christmas matinee of Rocky Balboa -- a decent movie, I guess, though what I really can't wait for is the werewolf movie previewed just before it started. Something like Blood and Chocolate (who doesn't want to see a werewolf movie with that title).
The four or five games of wiffle ball in my parents backyard, in January (we ruined that yard) and me avenging the fact that I was the #4 overall pick in the first game. I also discovered a near unhittable forkball.
Michelle winning the annual Clark Milkshake Making Contest on December 27, 2006 with a "Cinnamon Roll Milkshake" (it really was good). I placed a respectable 5 out of 11 with a plain, yet perfectly constructed, peanut butter cup milkshake. Among the controversies to arise out of this year's contest: (1) do you have to add milk to be able to call it a milkshake?; and (2) do you have to use a blender (perhaps better -- is there an unfair advantage to not using a blender)?
Me coming out of nowhere to smoke the family competition at Disney Scene It? My record: 5-1. The lone loss coming after Michelle, in a jealous rage because of the fame and accolades of my unheralded prowess, rustled me from sleep at 2 a.m. demanding a game. Knowing I was hardly coherent (and playing under protest) Michelle managed to steal a game from me. I followed it up the next day (during my waking hours) with a decisive victory.
Watching the most amazing ending to a football game I'll ever see (Boise St. vs. Oklahoma) the night before we were to get up at 3 a.m. and drive 12 hours back to San Diego.
Being with Michelle as she's hacked out a lung...for the past week and a half.

We're optimistic about the New Year, though it won't actually start until Michelle gets over being sick.

Post-Christmas, Part 1

2007-01-04T21:34:00.000-08:00

Any stay at my parents' home seems to induce lethargy with respect to good habits (including writing). I have a glut of things I want to cover here, which I expect to do over the course of the weekend, pending Michelle's recovery from what may perhaps be a sinus infection.

First, a poem I wrote Michelle for Christmas, which I'm confident enough in (at least the subject matter) to publish to the world:

My heart to thee, my love, my queen
Whose absence I disdain
Whose presence noble kings might seek
Thy thoughts to entertain.

Thy beauty doth exceed the rose
Thy petals fairer all
That sunlight bends with hopes it might
Upon thy count'nance fall.

Thy fretting makes thee fairer still
To view thy furrowed brow
Demand perfection of thine acts
And grace in thee endow.

Whose children's glance delights thine eyes
Whose kindness quiets tears
Thine ears discern their faintest cries
Thy touch calms every fear.

Thy caring hands lift weary souls
And strength and hope renew
With silent, oft unnoticed, acts
Lone seen from Heaven's view.

To thee, my love, whose gentleness
Long since ensnared my heart
Though storms and mountains lay ahead
May I ne'er thy side depart.

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-24T21:18:00.000-08:00

No times seem dearer than those with family at Christmas -- all the more as we celebrated by sharing our testimonies of Christ and our hopes in Him.

It also doesn't hurt that Santa came.

Merry Christmas to all (and to all a good night)!

5 Days Until Christmas!

2006-12-20T20:38:00.000-08:00

There was a period of years when I stopped believing in Santa Claus. Santa knows this, and from my discussions with him, I know he holds me blameless. It was actually my Dad's fault.

Many Christmases ago I wrote Santa a letter. I'd written faithfully every year, but never quite gotten what I'd hoped for from him on Christmas morning. So on this particular year I tried a different strategy -- threatening Santa Claus:

Dear Santa,

I really want a VCR for Christmas. In fact, if I don't get one, I'm going to stop believing in you.

Yours Truly,
Aaron

Not long after my Dad sat me down for a little chat. My letter lay open on the table. I was aghast -- it was supposed to have been sent to the North Pole! He then told me flat out: "There is no Santa Claus and you're not getting a VCR." He said there was no money for one, to which I pointed out that I was asking Santa, not my parents, for the VCR.

I cried angrily that he'd read Santa's letter and wondered how I could go on. There was no comfort in return, only an admonition not to spoil it for the rest of the kids.

Only years and years later was my faith in jolly old Saint Nick restored -- when President Faust spoke of him at the 1999 Christmas Devotional and noted the similarities between Santa Claus and Christ. Not long after I found means to speak to Santa himself, who frankly forgave me (I had, after all attempted to extort presents from him) and we both lamented the actions of my father. We mused on the presents I might have had if I'd but believed in those intervening years. He then deftly deflected my hints that I should then get all of those lost gifts at the following Christmas, noting: It's the season that comes only once a year.

Santa also noted that retribution against my father would be swift. From reports, Santa instructed my grandparents (on my mother's side) to make sure that he got a tin of pretzels for Christmas (and Dad hates pretzels).