A Tale of Two Donut Shops

Peterson's Donut Corner Revisited

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

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

(Yes, they're that big)

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

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(a chocolate candy bar donut?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Disappointment of Cosmic Proportions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Not pleased. Not pleased at all.)

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

Only the coconut donut came close to being pleasant.

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

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

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

A New Hope [For San Diego Donuts]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Help?

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

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

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

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

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

Happy National Donut Day!

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

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

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

Happy Donut Day!

Throw Down

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Memorable Memorial Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Middling Reviews of Mediocre Donuts

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

Rose Donuts -- Linda Vista, CA:

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

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

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


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


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

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

A First

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

And you thought you had nothing to be grateful for.

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

Nice Milkshakes Finish Last

These are the times that try men's souls.

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

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

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

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

Mom's Lime Dream milkshake finished fourth.

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

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

It's Milkshake Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easter Aftermath

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breaking Down the Entennman's Glazed "Popems"

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

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

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

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

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

These donuts fared better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

World's Greatest Hamburgers? Not Today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

Whither the Double Stuf?

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

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

Didn't Oreos used to taste better?

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

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

Fall From Grace?

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

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

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

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

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

Not these donuts, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Five Guys

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heavenly Donuts

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



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

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

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

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


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

New Digs, Extreme Pizza

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm just glad we had a coupon.


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

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

Ugh, Moving

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

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

Still, a few guiding principles have emerged:

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

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

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



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

The Passing of a Prophet

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

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

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

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

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

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

The $100 Dilemma

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

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

Herein lies our dilemma.

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

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

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

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

Ringing In The New Year

January is depressing.

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

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

It's been a miserable five days.


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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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."