Spudnuts?

While going through iPhoto I noticed some pictures that made me smile.

For those uneducated about the world of potatoes, spudnuts are donuts with mashed potatoes in them. (Yes, I am from Idaho and I have relatives that put mashed potatoes in chocolate cake. Warning, mock not what you do not understand.) Growing up making spudnuts was a family tradition around Christmas time. Since I left my family makes it a big event with hot chocolate and sleigh rides. Katie and I do this around Halloween because everything gets so busy in December. It also makes the calorie fest of the holidays last a month longer.

Side note: My nephew has to take us on buggy rides whenever we are at the farm.

Buggy ride ~ August 2007

The first year we did this our friends mixed up the dough. Unfortunately she started mixing before reading the entire recipe. 15 cups of flour later and a whole lot of spudnuts it was decided to cut the recipe back next time.

The spudnuts getting ready to be fried.

Spudnuts rising ~ October 2008

The final product is such a homer moment, but so worth it.

Spudnuts ~ October 2008

Explosions and other effective coping mechanisms

Last week found me brewing up a storm on the inside. You know, the kind of situation where the little things keep adding up until you're ready to blow your stack? Taken singly, I could handle the little things, but I was just soooo caught up in the Greek tragedy of my life right now {insert hefty dose of sarcasm} that the end of my rope was dangling above me. Because, hello, could the world not stop in its course and take note when I am sad because my patient died and we have to move to a cold, wet place and the sun doesn't shine there and I'm going to need a sunlamp and antidepressants just to function and I have to leave my dear friends behind and I am grumpy about packing our life into little cardboard boxes and we have to find a renter for our house and then we have to leave said nice big house to move back into apartment dwelling and I can't find an effing JOB?!? Ahem...

As I was approaching deep-fry meltdown status, basted with a thick layer of self-pity and garnished with narcissistic sprinkles, my friend Becca entered the scene. Becca is an excellent listener, and she had her tender ears of friendship on that afternoon while I accentuated the negative. I stood in her sunny living room while her two middle boys played in the kitchen. Her empathetic eyes engaged, she took in my trembling lower lip and vesuvial mindset and gave me a hug just in time for a sonic boom to erupt from her kitchen. Cue: chorus of terrified shrieks from Becca's three-year old son and a series of gasping sobs emanating from the six-year-old as his science project volcano exploded in their faces. Not a scheduled, controlled eruption, mind you. Exploded.

We two ladyfolk peeked around the corner to find the entire kitchen liberally drenched with vinegar, the side of the project volcano blown away, and two traumatized boys displaying their tonsils with gutteral wails. As the six-year-old began his sobbing mantra of "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm sorry momididntmeantoimreallysorryauuuuughh!", Becca gently reassured her offspring and steered them into dry, non-vinegar-scented clothing. The cherry on top? Hearing all the commotion, the one-year-old came toddling at top speed to assess the damage. He took in his brothers' orchestrated distress, shot one look up at his mom, grabbed her legs, and promptly joined his screams to the mix.

And what did I do? I took my impending breakdown out of earshot and...laughed. Bellylaughed until my abs protested. Laughed so hard that the tears that had been threatening all day finally breached the dam and flowed free. Laughed until my ridiculous perspective was turned inside out and upside down. Because it was just that awesome.

Okay, so maybe my heart is a shriveled little piece of tin for laughing at those boys, but dangit, I am going to buy them some ice cream. They lent me perspective. A little boy and his science project showed me that it could always get worse. Life could just up and explode in my face. Besides, it is good to be reminded that somebody else usually has it comparatively harder than me, particularly if they have just had their nostrils forcibly irrigated with vinegar.

Editorial note: I called back later that afternoon to inquire about the boys' mental health status. You know, a post-traumatic stress disorder assessment of sorts.
Me: So, did you ever figure out what happened with the volcano?
Becca: No, but Max {the six-year-old} grabbed his blankie and a belt buckle he really likes and has been curled up and rocking himself on the couch.

Don't hate on me when I confess that I have been breaking into random laughter every time I mentally replay the situation. And isn't laughter truly the best medicine?
Thanks, Becca.

Weekend recap: We. Were. Animals.

Hubby Love and I were craving a little out-of-home experience this weekend, what with it being such nice weather here in Denver. A quick internet consult revealed that the Denver Zoo was hosting a free day on Saturday.

Animal viewing?

For free?

Sign us up!

So we called up a pair of like-minded friends and trundled over to the zoo. Upon encountering the red pandas at their friskiest, Michelle and I both made the obligatory "awwww" (according to my true love, it's the sound most females are hardwired to produce at the sight of Small Fuzzy Critters), then proceeded to each ask our spouses for one.

Because on the inside, I am still mostly four and one-half years old.

And because Small and Fuzzy is pretty endearing, no matter who you are.

red panda, denver zoo ~ by katie

It was a superb afternoon for seeing the animals out and about. I highly recommend a January mid-afternoon visit, folks, because the zoo residents were mostly snacking, cavorting, pouncing, or sitting right up front looking regal, and the crowds were pretty tolerable.

The pachyderm house was full of all kinds of action. The tapir and the rhino each had their own Christmas tree suspended in their respective enclosures (I wonder if they got everything on their lists?), the hippos were busy mouthing on each other, and the elephants...well, just check this out.

elephant, denver zoo ~ by bart

Two of life's best creations: elephants + pedicures = awesome! When the keeper finished up with one toenail, the elephant would put her foot down and run over every inch of its surface with the tip of her trunk. I don't mean to anthropomorphize the great creature, but she could have fooled me into thinking that she was running quality control checks. All in all, a great time at the zoo.

After zoo-ing, we made the pilgrimage to a beloved Denver establishment: Chedd's. (Cue the heavenly chorus.) These people have made good on the concept of doing one thing and doing it oh-so-right:

Melty

Crispy

Over-the-top

Ooey gooey

Grilled cheese sandwich-dom.

definitely try the focaccia bread!

chedd's, 19th ave. & pearl st., denver ~ by katie

You can custom-pick the bread, cheese, and assorted fillings, or you can go with one of the preconceived menu creations. Either way, I cannot imagine going wrong. The process is a bit slow, but entirely worth it. The artisans are hand-crafting your own cheesity goodness, after all!

(I'm getting hungry typing this...) I give it 4/5 stars. Affordable pricing, great flavor, good concept. If only copious amounts of cheese were somehow good for me, I'd dish out that other star. If you are in or near uptown Denver, don't miss this place.

aaron McD., cheesin'it up

chedd's, 19th ave. & pearl st., denver ~ by katie

Then, as if we hadn't had enough...

Bart and I had heard of a new restaurant on 17th Ave. in Denver, and I'd been itching to try it. D Bar Desserts serves food and drink, but their specialty is...

wait for it...

desserts.

And we ALL wanted to sample some of THAT business.

D serves their plated desserts--the formal, more constructed items--after 6 pm, so since we were there a bit early, we went with offerings already in the gorgeous dessert case. It was "cake & shake" all around. Bart and I had the white cake with a chocolate malt shake, and our friends had the chocolate cake with a chocolate malt.

While we waited, a waitress strolled by with somebody's order of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and milk. I think the mores of modern western civilization were the only things that stopped all four of us from dogpiling on her and wolfing down every crumb of that amazing scent. (Although Bart DID accuse Aaron of undressing the cookies with his eyes.)

Once our plates arrived, we dispensed with all but the necessary nibbling. My conclusion: the white cake was firm and moist, with a light mouthfeel--not a dense sponge, but not flimsy. The buttercream icing and filling is absolutely perfect: creamy, smooth, not oily, not too sweet, and studded with raspberries. I would have preferred more raspberries, but I would still go work in the bakery for free just to learn how to make this confection. Paired with a small glass of chocolate malt and shared between two people, this was the Goldilocks of dessert: juuust right.

d is for delicious, decadent, divine...

foreground: our well-cleaned plate

background: aaron & michelle's chocolate nibbles

d dessert's cake & shake, 1475 e. 17th ave., denver ~ by katie

Aaron and Michelle shared chocolate cake and a chocolate malt. Their confection was everything chocolate cake should be: heavy, dark, and moist. It is welcome to sweep me off my feet with its luscious good looks any day of the week! Coupled with the chocolate shake, though, it leaned toward a very heavy flavor combination. I would recommend a vanilla shake or malt paired with this cake. As you can see, we were so enthusiastic about tasting, we forgot to photograph our treat. Dessert was definitely 5/5 stars--forget the calorie count, as it was dessert. I can't wait to go back and suss out the other offerings!

And so after a day filled with good friends, some"awww", some cheesiness, and some deep, dark, chocolate, we headed (or rolled, rather) out into the gorgeous sunset, stuffed and happy. I'll report back after I've done my penance running a half-marathon or so. Totally worth it.

19th ave. & pearl st., looking west into downtown denver ~ by katie