Culver's is Delicious, Confusing

The Drivers became fans of Culver's while on vacation in Minnesota. On a highway just north of Moose Lake, we saw a billboard that advertised something called a "ButterBurger". We weren't sure what that meant, but we were certain that we needed to find out.

Note: The Driver later learned that the inspiration for the "ButterBurger" might be this place — where the burger is actually served swimming in an obscene amount of butter. Culver's might put something similar to butter on its buns prior to grilling, but in no way does that compare to an actual "ButterBurger". The Driver will be trying a true "ButterBurger" as soon as possible.

Anyhow, The Drivers also learned that the Wisconsin-born burger chain sells not only "ButterBurgers", but frozen custard as well. And that in addition to chocolate and vanilla frozen custard, Culver's offers a Flavor of the Day.

All that to show you this — a photo of a Culver's sign:

The Drivers opted for chocolate custard over "BBQ Brisket".

And as long as we're dissecting the Culver's sign, it has always been The Driver's opinion that the company should have paid the extra $5 per sign for an ampersand after the word "Custard". Or perhaps splurged on the word "and" in front of "ButterBurgers".

Instead, The Driver pores over the concept of a "Frozen Custard ButterBurger".

Mmm... Frozen Burger...

New Taco Bell Item Not to Be Confused with "Cheesy Megadeth Taco"

Despite Her Enthusiasm, Mini Driver Was Probably Not Ready for IKEA Mac-n-Cheese

A Welcome Break from Pet Accidents

This morning, The Bobble-Head awoke right on schedule for her 5:45 AM feeding. Why she can't wait another 45 minutes or an hour for one of her parents to finish a REM cycle is another matter.

Anywho, The Driver stumbled downstairs to find a snack — and to check the hardwood floors for the usual dog urine, cat hairball, dog feces, cat urine, dog vomit, cat feces or other pet-related calamity.

Imagine The Driver's nano-second of surprise (immediately replaced by utter submission and soul-draining numbness) when instead he found a bright red liquid all over the kitchen floor. Said liquid had found a path of least resistance in the grout lines of The Drivers' tile floor. It pooled in the grout and flowed to a wall across the room, staining the caulk between the baseboards and flooring — and not to mention the grout itself.

A very mild curiosity — just enough to momentarily quell the defeat and hopelessness — caused The Driver to trace the flow of bright red liquid to the refrigerator. Inside, deep in the very back on the top shelf, The Driver found an unopened glass bottle of cranberry juice. Apparently, the unused juice sat completely dormant for several months until sometime in the middle of last night. At that point, the bottom of the bottle gave way — and a liter or so of cranberry juice drained through the fridge.

The Driver spent the rest of the morning mopping up cranberry juice from the tile floor — and then spent his lunch hour cleaning the inside of the fridge. Only some stale strawberries and an unopened container of yogurt from the Clinton administration had to be tossed.

At least The Driver didn't have to clean up excrement. For that, there's always tomorrow.

Mama, Mia! Mrs. Driver Makes a Nice Sauce

Last night, The Driver was preparing to make his grandfather's chili. In the middle of browning the ground beef, he realized that the pantry was devoid of several key ingredients used in said chili. After some grumbling and brainstorming, The Drivers decided to use the ground beef in a nice spaghetti sauce.

As The Driver posits in the title of this post, Mrs. Driver makes a mean spaghetti sauce. From scratch. And completely by feel. No restrictive "recipes" or cumbersome "measuring" for her. No, sir. Mrs. Driver has a general vision for the sauce, and she just goes for it. And it always comes out perfect. And Mrs. Driver isn't even Italian.

Needless to say, The Driver was giddy with anticipation. Mrs. Driver's sauce? Now with beef? What could be better?

Long story short, the sauce was awesome. Mrs. Driver would argue that it was a bit too "beefy". The Driver wonders whether that's physically possible.

Above : Too beefy?

Please do not contact 72Pinto for the recipe. For starters, it doesn't exist. Second, even if The Driver were to give you a list of ingredients, there would be no measurements. Basically, you wouldn't know where to start. But here's a hint: you can't go wrong with beef.

In Your Grocer's "Personal" Area

So... Many... Jokes...

Half-Hearted (but Funny) Re-Post

The Driver is a bit under the weather — both literally and figuratively. First, there's snow outside — so it's a good day to sit indoors and observe. Second, The Driver has the crud.

So, please enjoy this borrowed greatness courtesy of The View from Up Here :

Where The Driver Relieves Himself on the Road

The Drivers don't go to Houston very often. Probably need to do that more. Because what is otherwise a fairly tedious and uneventful drive was unexpectedly brightened by a new (to us) roadside phenomenon.

About an hour outside of our home burg, we started seeing billboards. The first one:

Intriguing. But not as curious as the one that promised something called "Beaver Nuggets."

The Drivers were hooked.

And so, we decided to stop at Buc-ee's and have a look.

Thirty minutes (and about forty bucks) later, The Driver reluctantly got back in the car. Something about his mother-in-law running a marathon, and we had to make it to Houston in time for blah, blah, blah. Seriously, don't Mrs. Driver and The Driver's mother-in-law run enough marathons? Look! I can make my own fountain drink! Dr Pepper with cherry syrup! Ooh... coffee mugs with quotes by John Wayne! Can I have it? Can I?

Buc-ee's is a monument to all things Texas truck stop. Only better. Not only is it sparkling clean and stocked to the ceiling with convenience store goodies, it's a general store loaded with country kitsch, Texana and darn near anything else you can imagine.

Next door? Buc-ee's Outdoor store. Where one can apparently buy deer corn.

In addition to the homemade fudge, Buc-ee's also sells jalapeno relish, jerky and the afforementioned "Beaver Nuggets":

Admittedly, The Driver found Beaver Nuggets to be better in theory than in practice. But he would never want to diminish your Buc-ee's experience. Instead, The Driver suggests that you load up the Family Truckster pronto and high-tail it to Buc-ee's.

After all, in the words of The Duke (at least, according to one coffee mug), "A man's got to do what a man's got to do."

Special thanks to Buc-ee's advertising agency for unknowingly letting me swipe an image from their Flickr page. Buc-ee's is obviously a great client with a sense of humor — and these guys took the ball and ran with it.

For Those Who Live Near a Whataburger

Click here to get free food and drinks from the greatness of Whataburger.

And if you know The Driver, he's already signed up, thanks. But you get points for thinking of him.

Double Burger Days

Every once in a while The Driver has not one, but two cheeseburgers in the same day. A few days ago, it happened again.

For lunch, The Driver checked Hole in the Wall off his "Burgers To Try" list. Then, when dinner rolled around, Mrs. Driver suggested Mooyah. And who is The Driver to argue?

After all, The Driver recently pulled off a cheeseburger feat typically reserved for the most seasoned burger aficionado — namely, George Motz of Hamburger America fame.

On a single day in October, The Driver had a burger for lunch at The Workingman's Friend in Indianapolis. Hours later, The Driver enjoyed his second cheeseburger of the day at Graffiti Burger — in Columbus, Ohio.

Two burgers. Two cities. One glorious burger day for The Driver.

Speaking of burgers, some dude on the Web has several pages devoted to cheeseburgers and reviews of burger joints. His tastes and opinions are remarkably similar to those of The Driver. Check out his Cheeseburger Compendium.

Happy National Cheeseburger Day

Thanks to our friend Presh for notifying The Driver that today is National Cheeseburger Day.

It's on the Internet, so it must be true.

The Driver ate a cheeseburger at his local Whataburger yesterday. Does this count?

Meatheads Overthinks Burgers

The Driver Family went out for their first burger lunch.

And it was just okay.

Meatheads is located in a somewhat fancy suburban shopping center. That should have been our first clue. Inside, the space was undergoing somewhat of a transition -- the proprietors having just taken over the space from a previously tried and failed burger concept. The walls were bare -- save for a few dry-erase menu boards and some beer posters (the free kind provided by the beer distributor). Sparse -- and not in a good way. Kind of sad, actually.

As for the burger, it was satisfying -- for a non-contender. The bun was tasty and well-toasted. But someone should have mentioned that red onions were a no-no. Still, while leaf lettuce is also grounds for disqualification, Meatheads balanced out the universe by shredding theirs for better texture.

And then there's the patty. For the record, The Driver is a proponent of the fried (on a griddle) variety. There is no room in The Driver's world for a store-bought burger that's cooked indoors on any kind of grill, flame-broiler or other wood-burning, smoke-inducing contraption. People who want to enjoy a grilled burger can make one in outdoors and on their own time. Even then, The Driver doesn't recognize their existence.

The Meatheads patty, while evil, did have a nice smoky flavor.

Good fries. Good fountain drinks (a Coke for Mrs. Driver, and a Dr Pepper for The Driver). Not much else.

Good thing The Precious Cargo isn't eating solid food just yet.

Burgers + Legos + Interwebs = Greatness.

Braum's Makes Ice Cream Depressing

The Driver family has started frequenting our local Braum's ice cream parlors. Specifically, there are two locations within a few miles of our home. Mrs. Driver enjoys the fresh-squeezed limeade. The Driver opts for the peanut butter hot fudge sundae. Because "...just the name sounds awesome and it is!"

Sadly, Braum's is not what it used to be.

Store #1, for example, has a credit card reader mounted on the exterior of the building below the drive-thru window. Taped to the device is a sign that reads: "Credit card machine will be fixed soon." The Drivers haven't returned to this location to determine how "soon" -- if ever -- the card reader will be repaired.

Store #2:

- Average age of adult customers: 107. Average age of youth customers: somewhere between "obnoxious" and "unruly".

- Average demeanor of staff: Surly.

- Guy Who Looks Like The Driver's Uncle invades The Driver's personal space by standing too close to The Driver in line.

Store #2 is currently offering a product called the "Sundae Driver". It's an ice cream sundae in a delicious, portable waffle cone. As the name suggests, this allows octogenarians to eat an ice cream sundae "on the go" (read: while operating a motor vehicle). It also means that the average beaten-down, low-rent Braum's patron can drive with his or her Sundae Driver in one hand -- leaving the other hand free for a cell phone and cigarette. This advanced technique is not recommended for older customers. One must hold the Sundae Driver with only the thumb, pinky and ring fingers -- while the cigarette dangles between the index and middle fingers.

In other words, don't try this at home -- and most definitely do not try this in the store. The Sundae Driver is recommended only for those "on the go."

Wow. Has it Been That Long?

Mrs. Driver made chocolate chip cookies again last night.

You know what that means.

(If you don't know what that means, please click here.)

(Even if you do, in fact, know what that means, please click here anyway. Because aw, yeah.)

Things That Are Coming Back So Strong They're On Your Head

Those of you who doubted the meteoric resurgence of quinoa into the cultural zeitgeist, you have been hereby silenced.

You read it here first. Oh, yes you did. You know that 72Pinto is your first source for all things quinoa. Don't even try to front. 

Thyme

The Driver is fairly confident that he doesn't like thyme. He had suspected it all along, but recent events have served to confirm The Driver's position on the savory herb.

In the last few weeks, Mrs. Driver had carefully prepared three separate dishes -- each of which featured thyme as a key ingredient. Through no fault at all of Mrs. Driver, all were deemed failures -- and in the case of two of the recipes, thyme was determined to be the culprit.

The third dish just took too long to prepare. So in that instance, it was a matter of too much time -- not thyme.

The Driver's dislike for thyme cannot be characterized as "hatred." He wishes thyme no harm. He simply plans to avoid foods that include it. The Driver does not expect this to be a problem.

Thyme could not be reached for comment.

New and Improved!

What could possibly make 72Pinto better?

Like you would have to ask.

Click here to view the enhanced user experience. 

Click your browser's "Back" button for the old, bland version.

Behold the Future of Nutrition

Above: The Driver's Proprietary Cookie Dough Snack, Copyright 2008 by The Driver. All rights reserved by the magic of the Internet.

Over the weekend, Mrs. Driver made chocolate chip cookies for her co-workers and some neighbors. The Driver loves it when Mrs. Driver makes chocolate chip cookies, mostly because he gets to "test" the cookie dough. 

Mrs. Driver was on her second batch of cookies, and The Driver was on about his third spoonful of cookie dough. And that's when he was suddenly blind-sided by an overwhelming and powerful bolt of inspiration.

The idea was sublime. And it burst into The Driver's brain as a completely formed thought -- with no problem-solving or prior contemplation. All of a sudden, it was just there. And there was nothing The Driver could do to stop it.

"Put cookie dough on cookies. Make sandwich."

And so it was.

What's better than chocolate chip cookies? Cookie dough. And what's better than either of those things? Easy. 

"The Driver's Proprietary Cookie Dough Snack."

Now, The Driver acknowledges that it's not the most elegant of names. But that's partially by design. Because The Driver isn't willing to just toss this intellectual property carelessly into Cyberspace. So he's built in a few measures in order to protect the idea.

By reading this post, you (the Reader) agree to acknowledge The Driver and The Driver's Proprietary Cookie Dough Snack (the Product) each time you assemble and consume the Product in perpetuity throughout the universe.

Example: "Mommy, will you make The Driver's Proprietary Cookie Dough Snacks?"

Example: "Aren't these Proprietary Cookie Dough Snacks great? They're the sole property of The Driver, and cannot be consumed without The Driver's express written consent. Kind of like re-broadcasting Monday Night Football, only with far more dire consequences. Have some more!"

Example: "Mandy always brings The Driver's Proprietary Cookie Dough Snacks to the office party. She's such a show-off."

Example: "The Driver's Proprietary Cookie Dough Snacks changed my life. That guy must be rolling in money from those things. If only there were some way for me to send money to his blog or something. I'd gladly pay $19.99 for the license to make and consume them outside my home and without having to mention The Driver after each bite. But for now, it's a small price to pay for such an amazing and proprietary Cookie Dough Snack."

The Driver encourages you to try his Proprietary Cookie Dough Snack and post your comments. 

Also, please send money.

You're welcome.