The Delicious Cycle

Thanks to Scott Wessman, who pointed me to this comic strip illustrating the delicious dilemmas I face every day at meal time.

Spring Break 2009 - Europe or bust!

Last week was spring break for the kids. We were planning to take a trip to Disneyland. Wanting to avoid Disneyland's crowds and heat in the summer, and knowing that the new baby will be here in October, the week of spring break looked like our best chance to make a Disney trip happen in the next two years or so. But two days before we were planning to leave I found out I had to leave for Europe the next day for work. Honestly - no golf clubs or nuthin'.

The trip ended up being a whole lot of work and not too much spare time to goof around, but I snapped a few photos.

First, of course, it's Britain's most well known food: Nachos

Despite being delicious, the preparation was a little odd. The chips were kind of like a generic version of Doritos, seasoned with the cheese flavor. It's not known how often the cook is called upon to prepare an order of nachos, but it might not be that often because a good 30% of my chips came out "extra crispy".

The plate featured two large blobs of mostly-melted cheese sitting atop the pile of chips. The ratio of jalepenos to chips was quite high. The sour cream was a little britishy and the salsa was kind of bland, but the guacamole was nice.

What really made this dish memorable were the environs in which I enjoyed it. Who can say naught of "The Clarence"? This place is an olde world pub that features a lunch and dinner menu in addition to its wide array of spirits. Because this was not my first trip to Europe, I coolly ordered my Pepsi in a pint glass, thereby avoiding the classic American mistake of ordering a soda and ending up with about 4 fluid ounces in a tiny glass. The Clarence is only a short couple of blocks down the street from Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, etc. and I highly recommend that you stop in for a plate of nachos the next time you're in London. In the meantime, please enjoy these photos of The Clarence.

Jeff and I walked back to the hotel so I snapped a few shots of Big Ben and Parliament. We didn't stop to check them out, or visit the other tourist sites close by because, let's be honest, Jeff doesn't care about that stuff one bit.

Most hotels in Europe are terrible. I navigated around that fact quite nicely with my choice of the Sofitel St. James, pictured below. I highly recommend it.

At the end of the week we flew to Zurich, Swizterland for a day and a half. I had never been to Switzerland and I must say it is quite charming. Here are a couple of shots of the cobblestone street and shops outside our hotel:

As you probably know, the main food preferred by the Swiss is, well, nachos. When in Rome . . .

The sour cream was definitely problematic. Surprisingly, the chips were quite nice. I wouldn't put the guacamole in my Top 10 of all time, but the portion was decent and overall this dish wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Along with these beauties I also ordered chicken fajitas. They were served as two tortillas, filled precisely to the brim with cubed pieces of chicken, glued together with cheese so that the tortillas formed a taco shape that held its form at all times. No salsa, no onions or peppers, but they were actually not too bad.

In the morning I enjoyed a delightful bowl of museli. This was a granola-yogurt concoction infused with fresh apples and nuts. The picture doesn't do it justice, but I have to say it was delicious!

We had a layover at London Heathrow before flying back to the states. I love shopping in convenience stores and snack shops in Europe because they always have the most interesting flavors of treats and drinks. I enjoyed this Gorgeous Cloudy Lemon soda on the plane . . .

. . . along with these chips. The flavor printed on the bag is not a joke. These chips were seasoned with a flavor that tasted exactly like a combination of cajun spices and squirrel. Not surprisingly, I would not recommend these (but I did eat the whole bag on the plane).

I wanted to upgrade my cabin class for the long flight home, but I found out at the ticket counter that the cost to upgrade into Traveller Plus (not even Business Class or First Class) was $4,000. Staying with my economy class ticket seemed like the prudent thing to do.

That's it. Spring Break 2009 - Europe or bust.

I eat other peoples' nachos

Hey, let's just be honest here: we all have our faults. Some people are racist. Some people disrespect the opposite sex. Some people lie, and cheat, and steal. Some people have compulsive habits that control their lives.

Me? I eat other peoples' nachos.

It started when I was a kid. Grace, Idaho county fair. Rodeo time. For some inexplicable reason, someone dropped a yet-unfinished cardboard carton of nachos from the bleachers onto the ground below. I was about 6 years old, so naturally I was underneath the bleachers goofing around instead of watching the rodeo. I happened upon the nachos and did what seemed totally normal to me: spread the cheese sauce onto the hamburger that my uncle had bought for me (over my protests in preference of getting a CHEESEburger).

If you're one who eats other peoples' nachos, there are abundant opportunities to ply your craft. Junior high was a shangri-la of not-my-nachos eating. Seriously, it felt like my civic duty. It was the mid-80's, "there [were] people dying, and it [was] time to lend a hand", but kids were still leaving their partially-eaten nachos all over the cafeteria at the end of lunch. It was a no brainer: I honored the starving children of the world by eating the nachos.

A particularly memorable nachos-capade occurred at Jack Murphy Stadium in San Diego. Days before I got married, a couple of cousins and I took a road trip to San Diego to have some fun. At a Padres game one night, I watched a barely-touched tray of nachos sit on an armrest three rows in front of me - totally abandoned by their owner. Inning after painstaking inning the nachos sat there. What kind of respect is that to show a serving of nachos? None, and I for one was offended. So during the 7th-inning stretch I ambled down a few rows, nonchalantly picked up the orphaned dish, and returned to my seat. The cheese was cold and had that darkish film across the top layer but it didn't deter me one bit. They were some of the best free nachos I've ever had, if for nothing more than the feeling of rescue and closure I brought to the situation. My cousins still mention this incident fairly regularly.

Which brings me to tonight.

Eating other peoples' nachos might seem like something that a person would grow out of. You may consider it to be limited to childhood, or misguided adolescence, or at the most young adulthood when wild oats are sown.

Not with me. No ma'am. I proved tonight that a mid-30's, married with 4 kids, grown professional man can still eat other peoples' nachos. No doubt about it.

We're at Fat Cats, mid-way through our first game of bowling, when I notice that the group of college kids on the adjacent lane have put the plastic lid back onto their large order of chips with queso. Strange, I thought, that more than half of the order remained and yet the lid was back on. Surely they were only attempting to keep the cheese warm while they bowled.

Several frames passed. My own bowling score wobbled as my ability to concentrate waned. I wanted to focus on the pins, but I could only think about the chips. And the cheese. And the chips together with the cheese.

The group finished their game and began putting on their street shoes. I made my first public declaration. "If those guys leave those nachos there, I'm eating them." I had to plant the seed in our group's mind so as to avoid a counter-offensive from my own ranks when I made my move. They guffawed and made comments of disdain. They didn't believe me, but I knew what had to be done.

See, the key to eating other peoples' nachos is making sure that the nachos have been officially abandoned. A plate of nachos has a very long shelf life, so it's not unreasonable to think that an owner could put his nachos down and then come back for them much later. I would do it, if I had accidentally left my nachos behind.

So I didn't strike immediately after the group left their lane. I waited and watched. I saw them head towards the front doors and then out. I waited some more, but timing was critical because a new group could arrive at the adjacent lane at any time and clear the table, throwing the nachos in the trash.

I made my move during the second frame our our second game. It was a bold movement, straight for the container and straight back to my seat. I didn't ask for permission or for forgiveness. I simply removed the plastic lid, dipped a chip into the room-temperature cheese sauce in the cup, and savored it all.

Our friends on this outing - we'll call them the "Parks" - didn't say much. It was a polite avoidance, like the kind you employ when another couple gets in an argument in your company, or when someone else passes gas in a social setting. "Ignore it. Don't make a scene." I'm sure that's what they were thinking.

Well guess what? I ate the entire remains of that order of nachos and it was darn good. All of the cheese sauce was in a cup, so none of the chips had become soggy from direct prolonged exposure to it. The chips were crispy. The sauce was delightful. It was like a nice gaspacho, but instead of tomatoes it was just cheese. Delicious, cold, free cheese accompanied by a helping of delightful chips.

That's right. I ate other peoples' nachos tonight. And I'll do it again if you leave yours lying around.