turbulent succulent

I’m going back to Minnesota on July 31st as a birthday surprise for my brother, who has no idea that I’m coming home. Of course, Daddy-O knows, and he’s going to assist me with the plan. I haven’t seen R in over a year, so it ought to be fun, and I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I show up at the house completely unannounced.

I tend to treat my trips back to Minnesota as culinary expeditions: Hot Monkey Love at Chino Latino, Almond Delites and beef skewers at the Red Dragon, Butterburgers and shakes at Culver’s, blue moon ice cream at a tiny roadside stand in Stillwater…heaven.

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Speaking of culinary delights, I found Wonka Donutz! I had to make a special trip to another city, but eh, sacrifices must be made. I have to agree with Steve Almond that the contrasting textures are a bit odd, but the chocolate center is almost trufflelike in its consistency, and therefore must be worshipped accordingly. I’m glad I bought 10 of them.

And since I was close to the town where K and I lived up until last month, I drove by the Happy Ranch. I could see a woman puttering around in the kitchen of our former apartment.

Funny, I never really liked that place, but it still felt like a violation to see a total stranger there. I wish her luck, though; may she consider it the home I never did.

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This entry sucks. Change it.

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HOPE YOU AIN'T HUNGRY EDIT: For those of you who were wondering about some of the food items I plan on devouring, a brief glossary.

HOT MONKEY LOVE: A deep-fried Snickers bar nestled between two slowly melting mounds of vanilla bean ice cream. The visual effect is that of the Hawaiian Muscle Fuck, but it's so damn good. It also comes with little plastic cocktail monkeys around the edge of the plate, and any dessert that incorporates plastic cocktail monkeys is a winner in my book.

ALMOND DELITES: An unbelievably potent amaretto-based drink. Actually, after the Great Van Nuys Drunkening of Ought-Four, I may have to find something else to order, seeing as I now associate amaretto with puking in a gutter, disgusting hotel rooms, and a hairy-buttocked British cover band singer in sweaty gold polyester and pointy pixie boots.

BEEF SKEWERS: Beef on skewers.

BUTTERBURGERS: ¡Madre de Cristo! Elvis would go nuts for these bad boys...a hamburger on a toasted, buttered bun. Mmmm yeah. You need to get these with tons of ketchup and mustard, an order of the best damn fries ever, and a cup of vanilla custard, which is made with fresh milk and egg yolks and tastes like heaven.

BLUE MOON ICE CREAM: I have never seen this outside the Midwest...more's the pity. Anyway, it's the color of a robin's egg, and I've never been able to find out what the hell flavor it's supposed to even BE. The most plausible explanation, given to me by a gum-chomping cashier at Nelson's, is that it's supposed to taste like the milk that's left over after you eat a bowl of Froot Loops. That's not exactly it either, but close enough. It's rich and delicious and makes me moan like a porn star.

Okay, now that I've thoroughly worked up an appetite, I'm going to return to my sad handful of Gerber Finger Food Fruit Puffs. Bleh.