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.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Five Guys
Back in October, a few took issue with my reverence for the In-N-Out Double-Double. One reader mentioned Five Guys as being superior.
This evening finds me in Columbia, South Carolina. Among my first order of business here was tonight's trip to a nearby Five Guys. I had intended to make the trip with a friend, but when others got I were supposed to make the trek downtown by ourselves, though somehow we ended up with a group of eight accompanying us. This made me uncomfortable, since I was headed to Five Guys to try the burgers, while the rest followed along on the thought that I was recommending it.
Gratefully, though, I have high praise for Five Guys.
Five Guys offers two sizes of burgers: regular (two patties) and small (one patty). Their burger options include the chance to add bacon to a burger or cheeseburger. The decisions don't end there.
After ordering a cheeseburger, they asked "What do you want on it?" [I wasn't ready for this, nor for the long list of potential toppings to choose from. I went with what I know: Absolutely no mayonaisse, tomatoes, pickles, and lettuce.* I then waited, eating a few peanuts** while they filled my order.
The burger was good. Very good. [The fries were very average.] The interplay between the patties and cheese actually reminded me a great deal of the In-N-Out Double-Double; in fact, I'd be hard pressed to distinguish them.
Again, the burger was very good. BUT, I missed the special sauce In-N-Out puts on its burgers. Perhaps the tomatoes weren't as crisp. And...the meal cost nearly $2 more than a comparable In-N-Out meal. Shouldn't that mean the burger was supposed to be 25% better?
Bottom line: Very good burgers. I'll be back. Given a choice between Five Guys and In-N-Out, though, my taste buds and my wallett opt for In-N-Out.
* Perhaps, given more chance to process the potential toppings next time, my next Five Guys burger will taste even better.
** The floor was so clean, thouh, that I felt awkward about droping the peanut shells on the floor. I did it anyway.
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.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Heavenly Donuts
There's a donut place near our old stake center* -- Heavenly Donuts -- that I've been passing for over a year, but never stopped at. Though I had committed last night not to have any sugar today, I happened upon a delightful excuse this morning as I started to make my way home from the Worldwide Leadership Training Broadcast: I needed to stop so I could do "research."
I took in a sampling of their most tantalizing donuts -- and then a sprinkled covered, chocolate donut for Jared. The cinammon crumb donut tasted inferior to most any other I've tried -- the "crumb" was sloppily applied and too sparse. Michelle described them as "bread crumb...with cinammon." The cake itself showed some promise, though.
The glazed donut tasted only slightly better than what I might've gotten at Albertson's -- which is to say it was perfectly adequate.
The frosting on the maple bar crumbled when I cut it up -- meaning I had to reattach it after it fell off. That's unforgiveable.
I've long thought I was looking for San Diego's best donuts -- I am. It occurred to me today, though, that I seem at least as interested in tasting all of San Diego's donuts. Hence, even my trip to Heavenly Donuts had some redeeming value -- though I won't be returning.
* I went to our stake center this morning because they were showing the broadcast an hour earlier than at our new stake center.
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.
Friday, February 08, 2008
New Digs, Extreme Pizza
There aren't many benefits to moving -- especially when moving to a third floor condo with a broken elevator, while sporting a 200 lb. TV. (If you don't believe me, try it sometime.) It does offer an excuse to order out for a little while.*
So last night we surveyed the chaos of our home, gauged our energy for the evening, and decided to try Extreme Pizza. Their pizza apparently garnered honors as being San Diego's best pizza in 2006.**
Alas, this does not bode well for the San Diego pizza situation.
We ordered a large 14" Green With Envy (pesto sauce, tomatoes, feta, fresh basil, oregano, and mozzarella), and a large 14" Railroad Grade (italian sausage, pepperoni, fresh mushrooms, red onions, fresh tomato sauce, mozzarella, and cheddar). They certainly sounded delectable.
With a "Buy one Get one Free" coupon, we paid $21.47 or so.
They certainly looked like the gourmet pizzas they purport to be. It even tasted pretty good, though on the third and fourth pieces I felt like I was forcing myself to be pleased with it. (Jared & Emily turned up their noses almost immediately).
Of course, to say a pizza tastes "pretty good" isn't saying much. All pizza tastes "pretty good," but not all pizzas cost $20 a pop. Indeed, all in all I found the pizza just a bit more serviceable than Domino's $6 1-topping medium pizzas (which seem to be roughly the same size). And maybe that's even a stretch, since I'm always to finish off a Domino's medium pizza. I can't say the same about last night's fare.
I'm just glad we had a coupon.
* We're also only two blocks away from a donut shop I'm anxious to try.
** At least according to their coupon. Who knows, though, maybe they decided to rank themselves number #1.
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.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Ugh, Moving
Yes, tomorrow we are moving. I sure hate moving.
It will be move #9 since we've been married. With all that experience, one might think moving would get easier. It hasn't.
Still, a few guiding principles have emerged:
(1) Make it short: If you ask someone help you load a moving truck at 9 a.m., that doesn't mean you start packing at 9 a.m. If the world could but learn this one principle....I promised some folks at church last Sunday that we'd have the truck loaded in about an hour.
(2) Have food: I told these same folks there'd be plenty of donuts if they helped. Earlier this evening, we stopped by Krispy Kreme and picked up 4 dozen donuts for the morning.* Most of them will still be around tomorrow morning.
I suspect, if I could deliver on those two promises, even you might want to help.
*I only had to pay for two dozen, given my lovely "Buy one dozen, get one dozen free" card. It's good for another five free dozen. Want some?
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?
Thursday, January 31, 2008
The Passing of a Prophet
We got word Sunday night that President Hinckley had passed away due to causes incident to age. It brought somberness and tears to the evening, even as we thought on his happy reunion with his wife, Marjorie.
Two weeks or so ago he spoke at a regional broadcast for our area. He looked older than I'd ever seen him. He spoke slowly, and it seemed as though it took all of his energy to do so.
Still, his health didn't seem to affect his ability to give good counsel. He spoke plainly on strengthening marriage, speaking as well as I've ever heard anyone speak on the subject. He mentioned the need to cultivate mutual respect with one's spouse. He said we should stop trying to "remake" our spouse, and noted that he was "offended by the sophistry that LDS women are only to be barefoot and pregnant." Decisions as to when to have kids and how many are between a couple and the Lord.
He also talked of learning to "cultivate the art of the soft answer," noting that "quiet talk is the language of love, of peace, of God" and that ours, like the voice of Heaven, should be a still, small voice.
Of course, at the time, I didn't realize it would be the last time I would hear him speak. I take comfort, though, in the fact that, even if I had known, I could not have paid any closer attention than I did, or taken any better notes.
Oh, I will miss you President Hinckley. I will miss your pragmatism, your media savvy, and your self-depricating humor. I know that you were and are a prophet of God, and I have tried with all my heart to follow your counsel. I add my voice to the millions who lament your passing, and who hope to someday to be worthy of the happiness and sweet reunion you now enjoy.
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.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
The $100 Dilemma
So, we've been accumulating "Thank You" points with Citibank over the past 2 and 1/2 years. Until recently, though, the number of points had been a mystery.
It turns out we've got about 11,000 points, which means we've got just more than enough to get a $100 gift card to a number of different places: Circuit City, Target, Pottery Barn, Bed Bath & Beyond, JC Penney, Sears, and a number of different restaurants (to name a few).
Herein lies our dilemma.
Do we get a practicle gift card? One that'll replace income we otherwise might've spent in one of our budget categories -- like clothing or household items -- thus improving our circumstances by $100? Or do we follow our hearts and just get a $100 gift card to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse?
We're both inclined to get the Ruth's Chris card. Fantastic, insanely expensive steak, that we'd all but given up hope of ever tasting again.
And yet...the pull to be practicle keeps giving us pause. We're careful enough in monitoring our monthly budget that we'd notice the impact if we went the practicle route. We'd never spend "real" money eating out at Ruth's Chris -- so score 1 for getting the card -- and yet the possibilities here seem close enough to real money to make us feel some sense of obligation to treat it as such -- score one for the budget (sigh). Furthermore, Clark family rule #15 firmly states: never eat at Ruth's Chris unless someone else is paying.
So, please, for the sake of the happiness of our tastebuds, give me your best reasons we should get the Ruth's Chris card anyway.
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.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Ringing In The New Year
January is depressing.
Not only is it dark, cold,* and a year 'til Christmas, January also happens to follow the most gluttonous month of the year [and rightly so].
This inevitably means -- if resolutions are to be kept -- a difficult month of sugar withdrawals.
It's been a miserable five days.
*Well, relatively cold -- you can rest assured I haven't forgotten I live in San Diego.
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.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Saints and Poets
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.
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.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
On the Tenth Day of Christmas...
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
On the Sixth Day of Christmas...
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.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
On the First Day of Christmas...
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
But I Did Stay at a Holiday Inn Express Last Night
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.
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.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Happy Thanksgiving!
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.
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!
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
The Deal of a Lifetime
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.
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)
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Day 3
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Day Two
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.'"
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.'"
Monday, October 22, 2007
Update as the Fires Rage
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.
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.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Stick With The Double Double
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.
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.
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