How often can you indulge in something like a blue cheese encrusted filet mignon and tell yourself, in good conscience, ‘it’s for charity?’  That’s why I love Dining Out For Life’s annual fundraiser. Sure, I could eat every day like I’m striving for my first heart attack, but this is special.  BorgHealth be damned, this is for the public good.  Every tasty little bite was helping someone living with HIV/AIDS.  Even the baked provolone appetizer was making someone’s life better, just as certainly as it was making mine shorter.

Even as a McDonalds alum and general devotee of drive-though dining when necessary, something about the McGangBang just strikes me as wrong.  [via]  It’s not the price – I love the economy of merging two otherwise OK items off the dollar menu.  It’s certainly not the tastes, even though I generally avoid beef, but more importantly because it has mayo and cheese, both of which rock as far as flavoring.  It even has lettuce on it, which makes it healthy, right?  Do I have to admit to myself that my drawback with an item of food is solely it’s name?  Am I really that hung up on a simple label?

I wasted most of my Sunday coding on the sites, and now I’m just vegging on the couch watching Futurama while Spinner makes some pancit for dinner. Life is good.

Despite the slacking, there was a good swim and steam yesterday, and the coding means that comments are back on the photo gallery. This will be an ugly Business of Law week, but at least I’m going into it well rested, and fairly content.

Sometimes everything just comes together at once.  This weekend it was the Triton Invitational Water Polo Tournament at UCSD, and the La Jolla Rough Water Swim at the La Jolla Cove, interrupted only by a Saturday night of …JAYSIS!

This was the first year in years I didn’t attend both days of the big local water polo tournament.  In fact we only caught two games on the first day.  Both were blowouts, preordained by some heavily weighted brackets.  We caught Long Beach blow out Redlands, and UC Davis dominate Pomona-Pitzer.  We caught the tail end of USC’s 28-2 trounce of Claremont too, but didn’t even realize the significance at the time because someone had mercifully turned off the East Pool’s scoreboard.

Sunday was spent at the La Jolla Cove watching the La Jolla Rough Water Swim.  We got there early, grabbing coffee and bagels on the way, and made a day of it.  A friend of Randy’s was competing, and we met some new people, and made the now ritual promises that we will be in the water next year.  It’s only one mile, and the sharks are tiny, and there are lifeguards everywhere, but the race start on the tiny beach still terrifies me.  That and I’d really like some of my various pains to go away.  The plantar fasciitis has kept me out of the gym too much this year.   Feel free to hold me accountable here if next year’s pictures don’t include Chuck dripping wet.

Finally , JAYSIS!  Creamy goodness dripping down my chin.  Steam on the windows as though all four burners were going on the stove (which they were).  Decadence in all its cholesterol-hardening glory, with a special shoutout to the other Chuck.

Nice to do Sunday brunch this morning at a new local restaurant.  The Aloha Waffle at the Village Kitchen and Pie Shoppe’s new Escondido location (they’ve been an old standby in Carlsbad for years) was a pleasant surprise.  Don’t turn your faces like that!  Blueberry waffles rock, strawberry waffles rock, banana pancakes rock, and now I know that pineapple waffles rock.

The way the economy’s been going there have been a lot more closures than openings around here in recent months, and gas prices don’t invite Sunday drives like they used to.  Nice to have tasty options in what may even be walking distance.

Nice weekend of absolutely no business.  Just personal. 

June is shaping up to be a great month.

Both Shelter and Harold and Kumar rock, and I appreciate the fine folks at the post office who dropped them on our doorstep yesterday.

Surprised by how many of the beaches and surf spots we recognized in Shelter, and thankful that our summer mission is now to identify those we didn’t.  Having goals is good.

Diego is an amazing little puppy, but sometimes he’s just clumsy.

Pork chops with thyme, lemon and pesto will be eaten shortly.

She’s not trendy, and she doesn’t have a nice production deal with the Food Network.  I don’t think she’s done a TV show in years.  Actually, I think she’s dead.  That doesn’t stop me from giving a shout where one’s due though.  We had a guinea pig friend up to casa for dinner last night, and it gave me the chance to use and tinker with Camille Glenn’s recipe for Chicken Newburg.  It totally rocked with that perfect creamy goodness that lets you know your arteries are going to be tough enough to survive a nuclear blast.  She describes it as “sinfully rich, deliciously good, and very easy” and I usually like anything where you can use the descriptors sinfully, rich and easy together.  I’ve had her Heritage of Southern Cooking book since I was in law school, and she’s never done me wrong.  I did tinker with the recipe a bit though, and thought I’d share.

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Feeling quite satiated after a dinner of grilled sausage didn’t stop me from drooling during the (time-shifted) season premiere of Top Chef.  Leading off the season with deep dish pizzas was a great concept, even if it was just to patronize their chain restaurant sponsor.  Personally though, I prefer to bake an old thin crust recipe from an old Alice Waters cookbook.  The crust stays light, and with a good white sauce (no acidy tomatos) the ingredients on the top make or break the meal.  Pizza is about the toppings (or the atmosphere) and while a bad crust can ruin a pizza, the experience shouldn’t be all about the crust.

Bacon.  Lettuce.  Tomato.  Nothing else, just a pure and simple BLT.  [via Looka! ]

Can’t move.  I keep pushing the nurse’s buzzer but all that happens is the channel changes.  I’ve been in and out of a food coma for two days and while I keep waiting for someone to be merciful and pull my plug, the white light is just the little bulb in the back of the fridge.