Ahhh Doughnuts...

Needing another challenge, I took upon myself the task of making homemade doughnuts from scratch. I wanted to see how hard it really was. I'm not talking about frying pillsbury biscuit dough you buy in a can. I'm talking making the dough, letting it rise, cutting out the doughnuts, frying them, and then glazing them.

The dough really wasn't that hard. Though the recipe I used did call for a specific weight of flour, I had to guess how many cups the equivalent was. Beyond that, the doughnuts turned out okay, all things considered. And who can beat a fresh, warm, all natural doughnut in your hand? Tyler couldn't wait to eat them, and who can blame him - Like father like son.

My Return to Happy Valley

This past week I had the opportunity of returning to Provo for a recruiting event our firm held for BYU accounting students. We actually hosted a dinner for them at the Sundance Ski Resort. My itinerary gave me some extra time to wander through Temple Square (I planned it that way on purpose), so I took our DSLR camera with me to take some snapshots. I've included a few here (see the pane on the right hand side). I've been having some fun experimenting with our new camera but unfortunately didn't have as much time as I would have liked to play around with it.

On my way back through Provo Canyon that evening, I decided to take a detour up the mountain towards Vivian Park. It's this little area up in the mountains where you are away from the city lights with these towering peaks all around you and a clear night sky. This was where I had proposed to Jessica, so I had to make a quick stop to park the car and remember that night. To this day I am awestruck that she actually said "yes." Thanks, Jess!

Looking for good Indian food? Look no further...

When Jess and I were living in Provo and I was at BYU, there was this place across the street from our complex that had the best east Indian cuisine ever called the Bombay House. It is on the southwest corner of University Avenue and 500 West (kiddy-corner from the old Brigham Young Academy building). I have never had Indian food equal to theirs since leaving the area, so whenever I get back to Provo I always make it a point to stop by for a meal.

The minute you walk through the door, the aroma of burning incense hits you and you find yourself in a dimly lit welcome area. The sounds of strange music and a woman singing in a strange language fills the restaurant in a subdued volume. The restaurant is family owned, and everyone is of middle-eastern descent. One time I sat at a table near the kitchen, and I overheard the servers speaking to the kitchen staff in some middle-eastern dialect.

Anyway, the ambience is soft and conducive to quiet conversation with whoever you are with. The atmosphere makes you believe you stepped half-way around the world. Then there's the food (no menu necessary -- I already know what I want):

"For starters, I would like the Vegetable Samosa. Then I'd like as an entree the Chicken Coconut Kurma and Garlic Naan. To drink, I'd like a Strawberry Lassie."

I"ve had Samosas and Kurmas elsewhere, and it tastes like dirt compared to this place (except -- ahem -- of course, any Kurma or Samosa Jess makes). To get a real feel for how good the food is, you'd have to experience it for yourself. Even if you aren't big on Indian cuisine, you have to like this restaurant's food. A perfect date-night dinner.

Why did I study Accounting?

Because I don't really do it anymore. I write evaluations, create budgets, talk to clients, and put out fires. When I was younger, I never said, "When I grow up, I want to write evaluations, create budgets, talk to clients, and put out fires." Well, I did say I wanted to be a fireman, but that's missing the point. Actually, come to think of it, I didn't grow up wanting to be an accountant. Life hit me in college and I picked something that would pay my bills and provide opportunities for me outside work. But the fact of the matter is that my profession does not excite me (yawn). And with that, I'm going to bed.

Get me out!

I've finally decided that the width of my living room is the size of a single car garage. I can outstretch my arms and almost touch both walls of my kitchen. I can stand at one end of my apartment, and if I spit really hard, I bet I could hit the other end of my apartment. How am I able to house a four-person family here? The painful thing about it is I probably pay more for my monthly rent here than all of you homeowners do for your mortgage. I hear stories about how people look back at how destitute they were when they were first married and laugh about it. Yeah, I've been married seven years, have two kids, a college degree, making good money, and my standard of living hasn't increased since I left home 12 years ago. Prozac, anyone?