DK Donuts (Review)

So..................................................................................................................who doesn't like donuts?

DK Donuts & Little Bean Espresso (1300 W State St, Boise, ID 83702 (208) 385-7480) has a special place in my heart.  For about a year I lived just across the street, in a dilapidated house that contained no less than four raging alcoholics at a time.  My place was in the basement, where I avoided much of the drama in exchange for mildew.  I didn't have much money at the time, and most of my food came in the form of Ramen noodles or canned food graciously given by churches.  Still, everyone needs an occasional treat, and mine was DK.  Every other weekend, said basement would be filled with a collection of my nerd friends, where we would stay up late into the night playing Dungeons and Dragons.  After the party had slain the heroes (because of course, everyone wanted to play as the bad guys,) we would venture over to DK, where plenty of fresh donuts could be found in spite of the late hour.

Fish on Fire

I love cooking shows.  I love the brainy ones that actually teach the in's and out's of cooking like Good Eats, America's Test Kitchen, and Barbecue University.  I like contests of skill, like Top Chef, Iron Chef, and Chopped.  I even like sensationalized "reality" cooking like Hell's Kitchen.  But there is one show I just can't get into.

Man Vs. Food.

Bar Gernika (Review)

I've been broke enough long enough that I feel self concious when people offer to give me things, but that being said I'm only human, and being able to turn down a free meal is a talent I don't have. Such was the case Saturday morning. Wife and I had been out hitting the yard sales, with Boy reading his comics irritably in the back of the car, but our end destination was my Mother-in-law's house, where Grandpa intended to take Boy to an airshow in Nampa. Wife and I had intended to return to the sales, but soon she was helping her mother assemble a file organizer kind of like this one, and I was drooling over a Pampered Chef catalog, admiring Himilayan salt and knives that presumably don't suck.

By the time we were finished, we didn't really have time to do much but eat lunch before visiting our friend in the hospital. Not wanting to go home, we contemplated having lunch at Mother-in-law's, before realizing that anything worthy of our efforts would take longer than we had. I had the feeling one of us was seconds away from putting up the white flag of surrender to Top Ramen, when MIL said the magic words. "I'll spring for lunch."