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.