Ding-Dongs

Aren't Ding-Dongs great? You know, those foil-covered chocolate hockey pucks? Especially when they're nice and cold from the fridge; the crispy crackle of the shell and the sofy squishy center separated by the moist chocolate cake. I might be over-romanticizing it, but they are good.

Let's say that we have a benevolent but naïve king who decides that Ding-Dongs, at $2.19 or so a dozen, are too expensive and that everyone should have access to reasonably priced Ding-Dongs. So, he decrees that his government shall promote a "public option" to supplement the private Ding-Dong industry, claiming that this would create competition and keep the private companies "honest".

For a while, the people are happy because the public Ding-Dongs are almost as good as the regular ones but are much cheaper. You couldn't go very far before seeing someone enjoying the benefits of government Ding-Dongs.

Actually, there are some people who are not happy. The private company that makes Ding-Dongs finds it increasingly harder to compete with the public Ding-Dongs. As a result, the private company has to cut costs by laying off employees and reducing product quality, which drives more people to buy the public alternative, until the private company is forced out of business.

Why does this happen? Because the government doesn't have to worry about turning a profit. (In fact, when there's a net loss, the king justs redistributes some funds from the general coffers.) And all the while, the government is taxing the private Ding-Dong company and using the money to fund the public Ding-Dong company.

In the end, there was only the government Ding-Dongs and no competition to keep the government honest.

The moral of the story: Say 'no' to government Ding-Dongs.

Socialized Chicken

First of all, if you've been following this blog (and if you're the one, thank you), you've noticed that there's been a four-month hiatus, that I seem to have taken a sabbatical. (In other words, I haven't gotten around to writing anything.)

In my defense, I'd like to say that (a) I've been busy; and (b) yes, I have been thinking of stuff, but it's been predominately political in nature, and as I've alluded to before, I don't want this to be dominated by that. Good thing too, for if I had been writing all the things that I've been pondering, then someone might get the idea that I'm one of those right-wing domestic threats, and I don't need that.

Today, however, I participated in something that I found particularly blog-worthy, so let this be a grand re-opening.

Perhaps you've heard of Kentucky Fried Chicken's new grilled chicken offering, and furthermore maybe you've heard of the Oprah Winfrey Grilled Chicken Meal Giveaway. If you're otherwise too wrapped up in burgers to notice this phenomenon, here's the deal: for a limited time, you can go to KFC's "unthink" page and print a coupon for a free grilled chicken meal. (And I really mean for a limited time; by the time you read this, it'll probably be over. And again, if you're the one who reads this, thank you.) The coupon says that you don't get a choice of pieces, but they're not really going to give you a wing and a neck, are they?

An aside: I'm sure they would want us to interpret "unthinkfc" as "un-think fried chicken", but "un-thin KFC" seems to be oddly appropriate as well.

Today, I go to KFC to try it out, and the first thing I notice is the mass of other people doing the same. The parking lot is filled to capacity, and the drive-thru line is backing up onto the street. Yeah, this'll be fun.

Once inside, I jostle my way through the waiting throng (why can't they just sit down and wait?) and place my order. It's 11:54. I go sit down with my soda and my order number, 3364. I listen for whatever the current order number being filled is, and it's 3330-something.

At this point I'm thinking, they're giving away free food, what did you expect? But I'm OK with the situation: I've got time; I've got a positive attitude; I've got a limitless supply of diet Dr. Pepper. It'll be fine.

There is apparently only one "grill" producing chicken and three registers accepting coupons (two at the counter, one in the drive-thru), and supply is not keeping up with demand. There are bursts of order numbers being called out, punctuated with silence until the next batch is ready. One suspects that the drive-thru customers are getting priority, because if you're actually in the restaurant, you're more committed to the enterprise than someone that is already poised to drive elsewhere.

Or so you'd think. As time rolls on, I see people that have been waiting patiently (or maybe not-so-patiently) leave before their number is called. After all, it's getting closer to one o'clock. (I considered walking next-door to McDonalds and bringing lunch back to KFC to eat while I waited for lunch.) Ironically, not only are there a bunch of people without chicken, there is a growing amount of chicken without people to give it to.

I'm considering the possibility that for every person that is now drawn to KFC for the new grilled chicken, there may be a person that is so repulsed by the experience that they won't be back anytime soon.

And the throng of people by the counter waiting for their order to be called? Still there, and getting bigger. I imagine it was like playing the lottery and waiting for that last number to be called.

At 1:04, my number is finally called. (That's right, seventy minutes and four soda refills later.) I hollered BINGO and got some laughs, and maybe helped diffuse a riot; that's just the kind of civil servant I am. While I'm waiting with my ticket in hand, I catch that the guy behind the counter is offering to give people the normal chicken instead of the grilled chicken, which defeats the whole point of the promotion.

So if you're wondering about "Socialized Chicken", here's the point. I saw this as a parallel to the way that socialized medicine seems to play out: free medical care, reduced choices, high demand, low supply, long waits, giving up to get it elsewhere, substitution of services.

I have no ending here, except to say that I think I'll have pizza tomorrow.

On the hoof

Q: What's Mooyah?

A1: A web portal specializing in cattle farming.
A2: The new no-nonsense burger joint in town.
A3: The battle cry of the Bovine Liberation Front.

While you ponder, some cow humor:

Knock knock!
Who's there?
Interrupting cow!
Interrupti (MOO!)

Anyway, Mooyah is the newest burger joint in town (well, my town anyway, I don't know about your town), and it's pretty good!

First, a little history: About a year ago, someone decided to build a restaurant on one of the major intersections near my place of employ, and they decided that what the local economy needed was ... a wine bar, and from the looks of it, it was a hoity-toity snotty nose-in-the-air one at that. At the time I thought, good luck to you, you're gonna need it. I did eat there once, and as I recall, I had a plate of steamed mussels with a side of pretentiousness.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who wasn't gracing their doors, because they closed some months later, leaving a building on some prime real estate. It sat vacant for a couple of months, and then I saw signs of remodeling and the hope of another lunch option. Finally last week, the signage went up declaring to the world that this building would henceforth be a Chipotle!

And I thought to myself, well, crap.

My experience with Chipotle is that the food is OK, but the atmosphere is more of the hoity-toity snotty nose-in-the-air ambience that I can do without, especially when there's a better alternative: Freebirds! Better burritos, no pretention, and more body art than you can shake a Montblanc at!

So yesterday as I'm driving by YuppieBurritoLand, I see some other signage toward the back of the building, and I'm straining my eyes to read "Mooyah" and "burgers", and I'm thinking, I gotta check that out tomorrow. Today I had my first Mooyah.

The menu is interesting in that there's not much on it to get in the way of burger excellence. Burgers, fries, shakes, drinks. (Luckily, the soda fountain has Coke Zero, which I can handle if there's no diet Dr Pepper around.) No salad, no chicken. Cheese and bacon are extra, but the sauteéd mushrooms and grilled onions (as well as the normal fixings) are free.

I'll be back, and that's no bull.

Sugar-free fudge

Last year during my annual candy-making spree, a friend asked if I could make sugar-free fudge. He's a diabetic, you see, and he and that particular sugar-laden confection don't get along. I said I'd think about it, but don't get your hopes up.

The problem with sugar-free fudge is that sugar doesn't just sweeten fudge, it gives it structure. Sugar provides a crystalline framework for what would otherwise be a gushy chocolate mess, and artificial sweeteners will not do that. I know, you can buy "sugar-free fudge" at the store, but (A) they typically contain "sugar alcohols", which have their own digestive challenges, and (B) the ingredient list reads more like a chem lab than a pantry.

However, now that I'm dealing with my own diabetes, I thought I'd give it a try. Armed with some basic everyday food items and a smattering of food chemistry, I came up with:

Diabetic Fudge

1 8-oz bar of baker's (unsweetened) chocolate, chopped
3/4 cup of heavy whipping cream
1 tsp vanilla
32 packets of Splenda

First, the disclaimer: This is not a Hershey bar. This is some pretty strong stuff. If you don't like the bitterness of dark chocolate, don't go near this. You can see from the ingredient list that it doesn't have a lot of anything else to get in the way of the chocolate.

Step 1: Melt the chocolate. Do this without heating the chocolate any more than necessary; I put in the microwave for 10 seconds at a time until I just start to see some of it melt, then stir it over a low double boiler. The reason for the minimal heating is that the fat in chocolate (cocoa butter) crystallizes in different ways at different temperatures, and the crystals you want to keep (the ones that make chocolate firm) are toward the high side. Look up "tempering chocolate" for more on this phenomenon.

(Incidentally, it's possible that for this particular application, this business of carefully melting the chocolate is bogus; it's just that I automatically do this for chocolate work. I'll try just melting it for the next batch.)

Step 2: Mix together the cream, vanilla, and Splenda.

Step 3: Stir the cream mixture, a bit at a time, into the chocolate. The chocolate will change from a smooth liquid into a muddy paste; that's what happens when the oil in chocolate and the water in cream get together, and it's OK.

Step 4: Line a loaf pan (get the sides too) with foil. Scrape the fudge goo into the pan, smooth it out, and let it cool. (I put it in the fridge, then let it warm to room temperature to cut it.) If you don't have a loaf pan, just shape it into a 3/4 inch tall slab on a piece of foil.

Step 5: When cooled, cut into bits and eat.

Was it any good? I guess so, because my diabetic friend bought most of it. Phooey.

(Update: I forgot to mention one other relevant property of sugar. Sugar is hydroscopic, which means that it tends to soak up water from the environment, and in food that means it helps tie up moisture that otherwise would let bacteria and other baddies thrive. I would guess that sugar-free fudge is therefore more susceptible to that sort of thing than its traditional counterpart. I have to guess, because I never have it long enough to find out.)

Candy for sale

So what's the most ironic thing for a diabetic to take two days of vacation to do? Make candy, of course.

And not just any candy. I'm talking about good old fashioned peanut brittle, hunks of pure sugar watered down with corn syrup and a handful of nuts. Mmm!

Every year at my church, there's an arts & crafts fair. Two years ago, me and the missus decided that we could have a go at running a homemade candy booth. I, being a math nut, whooped up a spreadsheet calculating cost per square inch and break-even price point models, and then took two days off work to set upon the task.

That year, I made two sheet pans each (!) of peanut brittle, pecan brittle, cashew brittle, english toffee with almonds, and english toffee without almonds. Each of these was cut into baggie-sized bars (which has to be done while it's cooling), bagged and tagged.

Between batches, the missus made fudge. Lots of fudge. Lots of flavors of fudge. Chocolate, chocolate pecan, chocolate walnut, butterscotch, and peanut butter. All of it cut, bagged and tagged.

We managed to sell enough of the almost 400 pieces of candy to make it worth our while, so we decided to do it again the next year and again this year. Each time, we add something to the mix. Last year it was divinity and peppermint fudge; this year we're going to try a chile pepper brittle, pecan praline fudge, and (to the delight of diabetics everywhere) a sugar-free "fudge".

So don't call me or come by tomorrow or Friday, unless you want to help.

Diet Dr Pepper, please?

I'm from Texas, where Dr Pepper is king. Sure, Coke and Pepsi are good for what they are, but I don't want a cola, I want a DP.

For some time now, I've preferred to drink diet DP, because (a) I don't need the extra calories and (b) it actually tastes good for a diet soda. On the rare occasion that a restaurant would have diet DP, I'd get that, and I'd get regular DP otherwise, because everyone carries it.

Now that I'm watching the blood sugar as well as the calories, I'm strictly diet soda and tea. The problem is, diet Coke and diet Pepsi are NOT good for what they are. Why are there so few places that have diet DP on the soda fountain? Almost every restaurant has either Coke products or Pepsi products, and every slot in that soda fountain is filled with a company product except for that one left for DP.

(The ones I have found nearby that do have diet DP, by the way, are Taco Bell, the combination KFC/Pizza Hut, Chicken Express, and Jason's Deli. Also, when I'm in the mood for mystery fish, the combination A&W/Long John Silvers has diet A&W root beer.)

Why in the world, here in the birthplace of DP, are there not any restaurants that sell only DP products? There's a lemon-lime fizzy drink, root beer, orange, strawberry, grape, lemonade, and even cola! The next time you want a Coke or diet Coke, try an RC Cola or Diet Rite instead. Get a Moon Pie too. A diet Moon Pie, if you can find it. Get one for me too.