"Delectable, As Was The First!"

My mother told me that when she started giving me solid food as a baby I would mmmm, mmm, mmmmmm the entire time food was in my mouth, letting everyone know exactly how much I was enjoying myself. I'm sure potatoes and carrots had to be a huge upgrade from the monotony of breast milk. A couple of decades later, I still love good food and the various atmospheres that accompany it. The traditional home-cooked family meals filled with noise, laughter and great company mean the most and create lasting memories because Dad's roast is dependably delicious and Mom's baking is top-notch. While family meals are dear to me, I am also fond of exploring new restaurants and the interesting food choices they have to offer. I'm much more adventurous than my husband, but he's come a long way from his steak, potatoes, and ketchup family. One of the perks we've discovered with not having children is Gary and I have had much more time and funds to travel and try new restaurants. Some places have proved disappointing, others have rated fair or average, while others have provided some of the best meals we've encountered. I've decided to share some of our favorites with you so if you're ever in the area and looking for great quality, you'll have a starting point.*


CLOSE TO HOME:
Promenade Cafe at the J.W. Marriott Resort & Casino
-Gary and I spent the first two days of our marriage at this resort and ended up eating at this little cafe 3 times because they served the best breakfast we'd had in a while. We're talking fresh berries, whipped cream, spectacular omelets, and crisp hash browns. No soggy frozen fruit and runny eggs here and the best part is that it's open 24 hours a day, so when you're craving breakfast at midnight you don't have to settle for Denny's.

Cheesecake Factory in Boca Park
-This is a new favorite of ours. If you're looking for a little more luxury, amazing food, but don't want to break the bank, Cheesecake Factory is great. We were utterly taken aback at the wide selection of menu items they offered, both familiar and unique. There is truly something for everyone here and averaging $15-$20 a plate the food was perfect! Oh yeah, don't forget dessert, you'll regret it if you do.

Claim Jumper in Town Square
-It's been much too long since Gary & I savored a meal here. Claim Jumper can be a little pricey, but believe me, you get your money's worth. YOU WILL HAVE MORE INCREDIBLE FOOD THAN YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH. This place is all about comfort food, steaks, mashed potatoes, chicken pot pies, turkey dinners, triple layer chocolate cake, man I'm salivating just thinking about it! And like any good comfort food should, it comes in super-sized portions. If you can't make it home for mom's cooking, try this place, you might find that they make it better. KIDDING! Blasphemous I know, nothing is better than mom's home cooking. Oh, just make sure that you hit this joint up in Vegas and not St. George or any of the Utah locations. Completely different chain, all they share is the name.

Katherine's at the Casablanca in Mesquite
- A high-end steakhouse serving more familiar food, but very classy, surprising for Mesquite. Before your meal you'll receive a warm, moist towel scented with almond to wash your hands. Very romantic, very good, and very expensive.

Marrakech near the Strip
-If you're feeling adventurous and want to try something exotic this small, intimate restaurant is it! Imagine sitting on red, velvet cushions surrounding low teak tables, richly colored fabrics draped on the walls & ceiling, and belly dancers. That's right, BELLY DANCERS. This Moroccan restaurant was unlike anything I've ever tried. Oh and if you're wondering what you'd pick from the menu, don't worry about it, they serve a fixed 6 course meal. Come hungry and pace yourself because you'll want to have room to try all 6 courses. Eating with your hands is encouraged, but you can request silverware if you want (it's not as fun though). At $39.99 a person it seems a little steep, but I promise it's well worth it! You're really getting dinner and a show so be prepared to spend most of your evening enjoying the food and dancing. Gary and I were there for over 2 hours by the time the last course was served. It was a fantastic night!

Pier 49 Sourdough Pizza on Bluff in St. George
-Yes you're going to pay a little more than Domino's, but it is so worth it! Domino's doesn't give you a fluffy sourdough crust or alfredo as a sauce option. Pier 49 was fresh with plenty of toppings and cheese minus the grease. I ate 3 slices in one sitting it was so good. Yes . . . . I'm a pig.

The Painted Pony in Ancestor Square, St. George
- Wow, this place was excellent. My mother and I actually shared a meal here for our birthdays. The menu changes often because of their dedication to freshness. Nearly all of the produce is organic and grown locally so they create flavorful dishes with ingredients that are in season. In addition to the food, it's in a beautiful location. Save this joint for special occasions because it will break the bank.


NOT SO CLOSE:
Christy Hill on Lake Tahoe
- There's just something incredibly romantic about dining outdoors, but even more so when it's on the beach of beautiful Lake Tahoe as the sun is setting. Absolutely gorgeous! Wood deck, crisp table linens, hanging lanterns and don't forget the gentle breeze. It was a little scary picking an entree when all the titles were in french, but I believe we picked well. Like the Painted Pony, Christy Hill serves a seasonal menu as well to ensure you're getting the freshest ingredients. This was a pivotal meal for both me and Gary because I discovered that I actually do like seafood if it's fresh and prepared well and Gary realized that it's ok to guess sometimes (Gary doesn't guess, Gary knows).

Rene at Tlaquepaque in Sedona, AZ
- Tucked away in the tile-mosaic village of Tlaquepaque, Rene served us a wonderful lunch while on our honeymoon that we now recreate at home. A fair amount of deli sliced turkey and ham, steamed broccoli and melted pepper-jack cheese all in between a large sliced croissant. Grapes make an incredible side. A light and breezy atmosphere with a touch of elegance.

Boudin Bakery San Francisco Sourdough
- My hubby and I were never fans of sourdough bread until we had real sourdough. Now we can't get enough. This bakery is actually a rather large factory located on Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco and, oh my, the smell wafting out of that building was enough to have me sleeping on their front steps. Freshly baked bread, ALL THE TIME! I swear Gary and I kept them in business that day with all the loaves of bread we bought. Ok that might be a gross exaggeration, but with orders put in by both our families, we probably walked out of there with 10 round loaves of sourdough. We didn't have the pleasure of eating there, but they do have a cafe at the bakery as well. I can only imagine soups, salads, and sandwiches paired with that amazing bread!


NOT EVEN REMOTELY CLOSE:
Keoki's Paradise in Poipu Beach on Kauai, HI
- Most definitely a piece of paradise. If you don't feel like you're in Hawaii yet, you will when you walk through Keoki's doors. Right in the middle of the restaurant is a beautiful lagoon surrounded by lush plants and exotic flowers. A truly tropical setting that wouldn't be complete without the flaming tiki torches. The fish was of course fresh, but my husband's entree proved to be especially delicious (ok, read the last 2 words again, but this time say them like Nacho would), Coconut Crusted Chicken Breast with Asian Mango Sauce, aw don't you wish you were in Hawaii right now? The only downside to my evening in paradise was that the mosquitos thought I was delectable. The rest of my family escaped unscathed, but I sported 23 red, itchy welts for the next 2 days. Oh well, good food comes at a price, it's just usually monetary.

Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square, NYC
- The sheer enormity of this place was astounding with seating available for 708 people. SEVEN HUNDRED AND EIGHT! Even with that much seating, there was still a 25 minute wait for Gary and I. The wait wasn't so bad due to the fact that there was so much music memorabilia to take in and we're talking the real deal. This isn't Applebee's with the same set of decor littering the walls of each restaurant. The Hard Rock chain has been collecting rock memorabilia since the 1970's and has over 70,000 items scattered across the globe displayed (behind glass of course) in their hotels, casinos, and cafes. A low-light, groovy atmosphere rich in rock history. Be prepared for loud music and the associated music videos playing on flat-screen TVs throughout the restaurant. Gary and I especially enjoyed looking at the Beatles treasures. Oh yeah, the food was great. They served familiars with flair. I ordered huge spiral macaroni and cheese with grilled chicken and sweet red peppers, a delicious twist! I'm sure a similar experience can be had at the Hard Rock Cafe located in Vegas.

Rue 57 60 W 57th Street NYC
-How to describe this place? Ah, I know. Gary wants to jump on a plane and fly all the way back to New York City just to eat at Rue 57 again. He's more conservative then I am when it comes to food and doesn't always understand why I want to spend more on a meal once in a while. He understood at Rue 57. This restaurant has trumped all others thus far. Food is an art form here, so not only did our food taste INCREDIBLE, it looked incredible too. It was so yummy that when Gary discovered mushrooms in his dish (he has an irrational fear of mushrooms and anything they've touched) that HE PICKED THEM OUT AND CONTINUED EATING. That's a big deal. I on the other hand never realized that shrimp could taste that good. Candlelight, bunches of fresh flowers, and crisp white linens set against rich, dark woods and dark brown leather created an atmosphere I wasn't too keen on leaving. I insisted on dessert because I wasn't about to whisk out of there any sooner than necessary, and oh boy was I glad I didn't. WARM CHOCOLATE VALRHONA CAKE WITH WHITE CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM. You know those chocolate cakes with the melted fudge in the center? Well the one at Rue 57 is king. Gary and I were tempted to lick the plate, but restrained because that wouldn't have been proper dining etiquette.


*Disclaimer: I will not be responsible for any charges you may incur at these restaurants or any others. Some of these places are pretty expensive, so please, check prices & your budget before eating otherwise you might be washing dishes.

And Then I'll Wake Up & It'll Be Tomorrow

I'm not a huge fan of the desert. Living in Nevada my entire life hasn't made me any fonder. Everything is brown, dusty, and dead most of the time and frankly, the color green makes me really happy. My hubby and I were playing World of Warcraft the other day and Gary asked me where I wanted to take our characters next to quest. The choice was between Desolace, a dead, stagnant water, and yes, desolate land or Stranglethorn, being more of a jungle type-"STOP! say no more, I wanna go to Stranglethorn," I declared. Now if he would have presented me with a choice between two different rain forest areas, that decision process would have taken much longer. If I'm going to stare at a screen, you better believe I'm going to stare at something more visually interesting than what I see every day, even if it is computer animated.

Aside from the blah qualities the desert has to offer, it does hold one of the very best features of this earth. The smell of rain in the desert. It rains all over the world, but nowhere else delivers that amazing scent. It's fresh, it's clean. Beyond the smell, the rain makes everything beautiful. A blanket of clouds cover up the intense blue of the sky and allow the colors on the ground to shine. Everything seems more vibrant and alive. The greens are more green, the reds more red. Oooooh, it just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, not unlike Christmas. Isn't today gorgeous?!

Go jump in a puddle, you know you want to.

Suffering

I apologize in advance for any feelings this post might hurt. Please know that it is not my intention to upset or make anyone feel bad, but I need to vent. This isn't about any one person and mostly it's directed to random strangers and acquaintances who feel the need to tell me I'm doing it all wrong. End of apology. Begin rant.

Day one of marriage: "So when are you going to have a baby?" Uh, hi and you are? Certainly not anybody who needs to be concerned about when my body balloons. It seems like as soon as Gary and I got married, no wait, even before we tied the knot people were asking us about our baby-making plans. That part wasn't too bad, but all I knew at the time is that I wasn't ready and when I told them as much that's when I got the "Oh, well we want to see some babies. Have a baby. You don't want to wait too long. The Lord put you on the earth to make babies, He'll take care of everything." Blah, blah, blah. You know, I do believe that women have a divine calling to be mothers and that if you put your trust in the Lord, all aspects of you life will be made easier, but I also believe that we were blessed with the ability to choose. I do not feel that when Heavenly Father commanded Adam and Eve to multiply and replenish the earth that it meant all of us girls should get married when we're 18 and then pop out 6 children by the age of 25. Congratulations to any woman who did that and kept her sanity. I wasn't anywhere near being ready for children when I got hitched.

Fast forward to now. Hey guess what? I'm ready. Actually I've been ready for some time now, but my body hasn't been cooperating, for like two years. Enter a bunch of people who don't think before they talk. "So when are you finally going to have a baby?" Um, dude, made that decision years ago. Hasn't worked out yet, but you didn't pause long enough to think about that possibility before you decided to razz us. "Oh you know what I did? I started this special diet to remove all the toxins from my body and got pregnant 2 months later. You should do that." Hmm, pretty sure it's not because I have an army of "toxins" laying siege on my body. "Just relax, you're stressing about it too much." I haven't seen or talked to you in months! How would you know what I have and haven't been stressing about?! Yeah so basically through various chats, advice given and jokes made I have adopted a new rule, one that would serve many people well.

Note to self: Never jest with anyone about having a baby. Wait, scratch that, never say anything baby related. Chances are pretty high that you really don't have a clue what that couple might be going through no matter how good of friends you are, if you're even really friends. Maybe she desperately wants a baby, but her hubby is totally freaked out by the idea. They argue enough about it already without you adding a log to the fire. Or perhaps he's misfiring and they're having to deal with the thought of a sperm donor. The poor girl could have already had three miscarriages and you're there to pour salt in her wound. A professional may have declared the couple infertile with no chance of children. What if *gasp* both of their bodies function normally and they're just not ready for that huge, monumental step in their lives? Is it really any of your business? I know you all have your personal opinions about when the best time to have children is or the sure-fire way to become pregnant, but that's what they are, opinions, and unless otherwise asked, you should keep them to yourself. Is it really worth causing another person possible pain simply to satisfy your curiosity or ego? To give your two cents?

I debated whether or not I would share the details of my situation here and thought about a particular lady who has bombarded me with guidance since she discovered my non-prego problem. Being a bit of an health nut, she always tells me I need to simply exercise and drink water to get pregnant. Don't misunderstand, exercise and proper hydration does play a part and should be present in our lives anyway, but come on, it's not that cut n' dry and I've told her as much. The last time I spoke with the health nut, counsel came spilling out again, but this time I came back with what my doctor had told me and guess what? She didn't have so much to say anymore. If sharing means I can avoid more uninformed advice, then it's worth it for me. If sharing means you'll think more about the possibilities next time rather than drawing your own conclusions, then I'm game. I decided to dive in head first, but then I spoke with my husband.

GARY: That kind of stuff is private, reserved for family and close friends. The whole world doesn't need to know.

ME: I'm tired of all the comments and questions though, maybe this will alleviate some of it.

GARY: Maybe, and I can understand that, but why does the world deserve to know? Why do they need to be filled in on something so personal that we are strong enough to handle?

ME: When people ask, I don't know what to say and I feel compelled to tell the truth, otherwise they keep saying things that hurt without even knowing.

GARY: Well you can do what you want, but if they don't back off, I give you permission to tell them that it's none of their business, because it truly isn't.

So I thought about what my husband said and realized that he was right. He and I are strong enough to deal with the trials that come our way without sharing the specifics, but it doesn't mean that it's not hard. It doesn't mean that I don't get tired, that I don't hurt. So while I choose not to share the details at this time, I do want you to know this: I HAVE A DIAGNOSED MEDICAL CONDITION THAT IS WREAKING HAVOC ON MY REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS. Gary and I are pursuing our options to fix the problem, but realize that there is the possibility that I may never carry a child of my own. On that note, we are very optimistic that the treatments will work, it's just going to require more patience on our part (and our parents') as we travel this road.

It's tough dealing with the fact that I can't have children at this time, but the thoughtless comments definitely make it harder. Talking to a couple of other friends who have infertility issues, we agreed that we don't want people to necessarily ignore our conditions, all we really want is somebody to say, "Wow, that really SUCKS. I can't say that I understand how you're feeling, but I am so sorry." Don't talk about your cousin who had a hard time getting pregnant, or tell me to adopt, or "comfort" me by saying Heavenly Father has a plan for me. When people do that it's because they feel uncomfortable with the situation and instead of dealing with it, they paint this pretty picture where everybody eventually ends up happy to make themselves feel better. There is a lot of happiness in my life, but there's also a big hole where I desperately want a child to be. When you tack on all the other stories and suggestions and fluff, even though you mean well, all it really says to me is that I'm not allowed to hurt, I'm not allowed to feel bad, I shouldn't hug my knees and cry when I'm alone because hey, so and so "got pregnant after years of trying and so could you." That's great for so and so, it really is, but the fact remains that I'm not so and so and it's naive to think that just because it happened to her, it's gonna happen to me. Sure, I hope and pray that I do get pregnant, but if it happens it's not going to be because of your friend or co-worker. I'm an individual with specific details that make up my life and who I am, don't lump me together with somebody I don't even know and tell me we're the same. Don't feed me empty words and advice because, unless I ask, that's not what I'm looking for. When you say "I'm sorry, that sucks" that's what validates me, it validates my feelings, it lets me know that you're willing to acknowledge and accept my problem rather than ignore it. All I need is a sincere "I'm so sorry. If you need me, I'm here" to let me know you care and I believe that's what most suffering people need.

Automatic

Being the germaphobic I can be at times, I love the whole automatic movement. Motion-sensor faucets, paper towels, and toilets keep my public bathroom visits low-stress. So when I discovered a clean, automatic bathroom in the restaurant my husband and I had enjoyed dinner at the other night, I was appreciative. "I won't be long," I told Gary as I handed him my scarf and coat. I went inside, picked the tidiest stall, and did my deed. Well, not before I had put down 3 seat liners of course. Reaching for the toilet paper I shifted my weight ever so slightly and WHOOOOOSH! Oh yes, it did. THAT OVER-ZEALOUS PIECE OF PORCELAIN DID. I hadn't even had time to grab any paper before that toilet sucked away any evidence of a need for paper and in doing so sent cool air swirling beneath me and water spray all over my rear. Did I mention that I loathe the sensation of a toilet flushing while I'm still mounted on it? So I cleaned myself up and dried my bowl-watered bottom. The task at hand was almost complete when I shifted again and WHOOOOOSH! Holy guacamole, YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! Once is bad enough, but TWICE in one sitting! I decided that this automatic bowl and I were no longer friends. Clean-up resumed very carefully so as not to alert the ever watchful motion police. When I was finally dry enough to pull up my pants without them sticking to my tush, I leaped off the seat thinking I was escaping another water spraying flush, but was only met with silence. Ok so let me get this straight john. The slightest shift of weight sends you into a flushing frenzy, but the amount of movement required to throw my body away does nothing for you?! I proceeded to brush the seat liners into the water to join the now soggy toilet paper hoping the sensor would pick up my movement and take the paper away. Nothing. I waved my hands in front of the black box with the red light. Nothing. I squatted, hovering just above the seat, then stood back up a moment later. Nothing. This was no automatic toilet, this was a taunting, selective toilet who was having a good laugh at my expense. I really wanted to abandon the stall, but I couldn't bring myself to join the ranks of ill-mannered public bathroom users, so I . . . um . . . pushed the manual flush button on the supposedly automatic toilet. And then the toilet laughed an evil laugh and demanded he* be named the victor.

Demoralized at having been beat by a toilet, I stepped up to the large sink which had a long, tall faucet in the shape of a candy cane extending out to the middle of the sink. Since this was also automatic, I stuck my hands under the faucet and waited for the water. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. I moved my hands closer to the sensor at the base of the faucet. Water shot out, but when I moved my hands back towards the stream it immediately shut off again leaving my hands just as dry as when I started. Ooooook. I'll just have to be quicker. And boy was I, but not quick enough. Hands forward. Water on. Hands back. Water off. Hands forward. Water on. Hands back super fast. Water still off. Yeah, this sink and I argued for a good minute. Thank goodness the public restroom wasn't very public during my stay. Pretty soon I'm waving one hand in front of the sensor and wetting the other and I have to switch off like this for the remainder of the hand washing. Hands dripping wet and a little frazzled, I eyed the automatic paper towel dispenser. NOT WORTH IT. So I wiped my hands on my jeans and walked out.

GARY: What took you so long?

ME: I don't want to talk about it.


*Yes the toilet is a he because, while that may sound inappropriate following the thought that we expose ourselves to toilets everyday, I prefer to think of a man swallowing all our crap rather than a woman.