Restaurant Review: CHOM Burger. Provo, Utah.

My daughter Sarah can be a mite importunate at times. For instance, the other day she mentioned a burger joint she was interested in knowing more about; CHOM Burgers at 45 West 300 North. In an off-hand manner I told her I might scope it out someday when I felt like it.

Her cutting glance told me at once I had made a huge tactical blunder.

"Well, er, I'm sure I'll get to it pretty darn soon -- don't worry" I said meekly. She continued to glare at me.

"Wretch!" she finally replied. "Do as I bid you within forty-eight hours or I'll have your flabby paunch sliced up and dried for beef jerky!"

I groveled at her feet in abject terror.

"Yes, mistress" I moaned. "It shall be done!"

"See that it is, worm" she hissed at me, then turned to mount her fire-spitting griffin to fly back to her enchanted castle in the Black Forest.

She gets touchy like that sometimes . . .

I ordered the CHOM Burger, sweet potato fries, and a medium chocolate shake on this beautiful Saturday in November. This is real Trump weather (I call it that because it's so unexpectedly mild, and because it annoys a lot of people).
You don't speak your order to anybody; you have to fill out a form to hand to the person behind the counter:

I can't imagine why they do it that way. The menu is sparse and uncomplicated. When I filled mine out I felt like I was being sent to the principal's office with a note from my teacher. But on the other hand, they do have a cool Star Wars mural done with white chalk:

My meal cost $13.48. The burger was excellent. It had a deeply meaty and satisfying taste, and it held together remarkably well -- not falling apart into soggy pieces as so many hamburgers like to do.

My chocolate shake was also superb. Thick, but not too thick to suck up slowly, savoring every mouthful. Now the sweet potato fries were a problem. They tasted fine, but whoever prepares them for frying is a bit lax about getting the skin off. Fried regular potato skin is fine; but fried sweet potato skin takes on a gritty unchewableness similar to tin foil that made my fries unpalatable. I still ate some; they were that good.

So I'm giving the place Four Burps. But do yourself a favor and order the regular fries instead of the sweet potato fries. That's what I'll do when I take my daughter Sarah, She Who Must Be Obeyed, there in the near future.

Enduring pain with faith, or . . .

 ". . . we all must learn that suffering in and of itself does not teach or grant to us anything of lasting value unless we deliberately become involved in the process of learning from our afflictions through the exercise of faith."
Evan A. Schmutz.

The pains that I have to endure
shape my faith's unseen contour.
But I'd be content
could I circumvent
suffering's vexing Grand Tour.  

Restaurant Review: Guru Cafe. Provo, Utah.

Across from the Utah County Government building on Center Street is the Guru Cafe. This is the 'in' spot for downtown Provo-ites to graze. We got there right when they opened at 11:30, and the place was full up by 11: 50.

I took my daughter Sarah and two of her kids, Lance and Brooke. We had a half order of sweet potato fries, with a fry sauce that was deep and smoky; a kid's cheese quesadilla; a juice box; a salmon rice bowl; and 3 cheese tortellini, for a total of $34.18.

The sweet potato fries were good. The salmon rice bowl was a bit on the bland side. I needed to give it the old Tabasco once-over to feel like I was really eating something. But the 3 cheese tortellini was an outstanding dish. To quote my daughter Sarah:  "It tastes Italian and creamy." It had a good texture and a rich complex sauce that was not overwhelmed by the cheese. Lance and Brooke pretty much ignored the kid's quesadilla in favor of looking out the window at the passersby. I was not sorry to see them ignore the sweet potato fries; after a few bites of the tortellini my appetite came roaring back for the first time in over a week, and I began snarfing down the fries like nobody's business.

As I have mentioned before, I am on a quest for meals that don't just fill me with stodge but that bring a touch of happiness. This meal today did that.

I give this place Four Burps. The service is fast and friendly and the food will not even give an ulcer cause to complain. Twas a beautiful eating experience -- with my beautiful daughter and frisky grand kids. Life doesn't get much better than this, unless there's anchovies involved.

Trump’s lawyers seek to delay fraud case — until after he is sworn into office

SAN DIEGO — Attorneys for President-elect Donald Trump went to court Thursday to ask that a civil fraud suit against Trump scheduled to begin in less than three weeks be delayed, a reminder of the unusual complications facing Trump as he shifts from businessman to commander in chief.    WaPo 

Commander in Chief is not God;

so if he's on trial for a fraud,

it's best to proceed

at maximum speed;

in jail he'll still have powers broad. 

Never left alone

 "We are never left alone as we work in His vineyard."    David A. Bednar.


I toiled my best in sun and rain, in wind and bitter cold;
my fingers knotted with the strain, I finally grew old.
My usefulness was over, as my legs and arms gave way;
to illness and to poverty I now would be a prey.
But then a mood stole over me, twas almost a caress;
it seemed to say "My friend, I have much more for you -- not less!"
And then I understood at last the Savior's great delight
in helping me through all my days and ev'ry chilly night,
and that He had prepared for me rare comforts not a few;
even now they fall on me as kindly as the dew.
The vineyard's not a dreary place; the work there not in vain. 
The rivers flow so kindly there, and swallow up my pain. 

Restaurant Review: Two Jacks Pizza. Provo, Utah

Two Jacks Pizza on Center Street is a blue collar, utilitarian noshery. It's narrow and noisy and comfortable.

I ordered their homemade lasagna, with a fountain drink. That set me back exactly $10.43. The meal came with a green salad, fresh out of the bag:

I ate it not because it tasted delicious, but because it's good for me. Dammit.
The lasagna is chewy and bland; I had to add a lot of red pepper flakes to give it some 'oomph'. It's hard to tell what's in it, besides lots of melted cheese.
The staff is prompt and cheerful:

I give this place Three Burps.

And now I'd like to step back to reconsider why I'm eating out so much, and blogging about it. I've come to the conclusion that most eating establishments in Provo serve strictly provender -- 'stodge', as travel writer Paul Theroux calls it. It's to fill up your gut, not comfort your soul. That being the case, I might just as well make myself a sandwich at home as to continue going out to places that only cater to my belly, and do that not very well.
After nearly 30 years of always eating out when on the road with the circus, I think I deserve something better when I go out to dinner nowadays.
So I'm reevaluating my restaurant review criteria. Can eating be anything more than a dull shoveling of fodder into my mouth? Especially when I eat by myself?

Well, at least my dessert was a satisfying success. I stopped by the grocery store for an Owyhee Idaho Spud -- "The Candy Bar That Makes Idaho Famous".  They're pretty good, so I bought a couple extra to put in my goody jar for the when the grand kids come over.

Timericks

Stocks and the dollar leapt higher Thursday while bonds remained under pressure as investors bet that a Donald Trump presidency could mean more fiscal stimulus, lower corporate taxes and higher inflation.   WSJ. 

The Donald is good for a rise

in ev'ry legit enterprise;

the stock market soars

and shoppers in stores

economy now do despise. 

OPEC’s oil production rose to record highs in October and is expected to remain elevated this month, a top industry watchdog reported Thursday, highlighting the challenge the cartel will face hammering out a plan to cut output at its meeting later this month.   WSJ.

The sheikhs that are sitting on oil

give their accountants hard toil

to come up with ways

to make the stuff blaze

so they can keep dressing in voile. 

For one group, the post election reaction has been electrifying. Yes California, a grass-roots organization with 3,000 or so supporters, has for years been trying to persuade Californians to take up the cause of secession.   NYT

If Californuts want to leave

I do not see cause to bereave. 

The state's full of smog

and Hollywood grog;

deport 'em all on the qui vive. 

White evangelicals, Catholics and Mormons carried Trump

Mormons nationally, according to exit polls, preferred Trump to Clinton by 61 to 25 percent.  Lauren Markoe, in Religious News Service.

The exit polls know LDS

maintain certain kinds of weird dress;

that's how they do know

to count Mormon flow

(as well as the horns they possess)  

The love of God

"No mistake, sin, or choice will change God’s love for us."   Ronald A. Rasband. 


No matter how we may delay,
there comes on that wonderful day
both judgment and love
from Father above;
hoping that with Him we'll stay.  

Restaurant Review: Golden Corral. Orem, Utah

To celebrate the New Age of Trumpery, I took my daughter Sarah and her family out to eat tonight at the Golden Corral buffet in Orem. It's a franchise, of course, but there are some valid and original points I hope to make about the cuisine and company there.

It cost $43.53 to feed one senior citizen, two adults, and one eight year old. The three year old and the one year old got fed on the cuff. We had water to drink, because fountain drinks cost extra. Besides, Sarah doesn't want the kids to have too much sugar before bedtime.

I have a long and checkered history with buffets. When I was younger and constantly on the make to save an extra buck or two I would surreptitiously fill my coat pockets with rolls, fruit, hard boiled eggs, and salami, to tide me over for my evening meal. This left my clothes rather pungent during the hot summer months. As I grew older I grew no wiser and kept eating like a teenager whenever I paid for a buffet -- which often led to disaster an hour or so later. So tonight I ate rather sparingly.

Sarah and Jonny snarfed down jumbo shrimp and roast turkey, with plenty of sides. Young couples and their sterling digestion . . . it makes me sick!

Grand son Lance kept making a grab for his sister Brooke's food, on the theory that anything anyone else has must taste better than what he has and so belongs to him by right. His droit du seigneur held true until he got a taste of a piece of pineapple dipped in the chocolate fountain. His pained expression would have moved a heart made out of marzipan. After that he was pretty much content to go get his own food.

As the evening progressed our table top disappeared under a pile of dishes, crumpled napkins, and discarded shrimp tails. Goaded by the zestful appetites of the young folk, I ate more than was good for me, and am still hearing rumbles from my innards like the distant thunder of an approaching electrical storm.
It bothers me to see all the food that goes to waste at a buffet; so many plates of food that are just barely tasted and then set aside. If the leftovers could be given to a pig farmer or doled out to the needy I would feel better -- but there's no way a modern buffet restaurant can manage such things. Happily, Jonny and Sarah pretty much cleaned their plates, as did I. After his third helping of jumbo shrimp Jonny said that Golden Corral was a much better buffet than Chuck-a-Rama. I had to agree with him that the food seemed prepared with more care and less industrial homogenization.

As is the wont of a one year old, Brooke enjoyed everything that was placed in front of her -- until she didn't. Then she didn't want to be held and she didn't want to be put down and she didn't want to eat anything more and she whimpered for whatever anyone else was eating, and in general gave warning that a titanic tantrum was building, which would be unleashed on an unsuspecting and innocent world if she were not taken home soon and allowed to run around the living room couch while laughing insanely.

I give the place Two Burps. Mostly because this kind of a buffet restaurant is an anachronism nowadays. It's only good for feasting, and who does that anymore? Except when a Trump gets elected President . . .