Not What the Doctor Ordered

We had a very good meal at Mandaloun in Redwood City. (I can't give it five stars because the cassoulet, although tasty, was soupier than the divine and calorie-laden concoction that I've eaten on business trips to Toulouse.)

But the point of this post is not to talk about how the meal began but how it finished. The diners in our group opted for the hard-to-make desserts such as crème brûlée.

But I wanted the straight C₁₂H₂₂O₁₁ after weeks of cutting down on sugar and flour. So I ordered the churros, which are sold everywhere from Costco to the AT&T ballpark. When the churros were dipped in the espresso-chocolate sauce, even the brûlée-spooners couldn't keep their forks off my plate.