Chang Chun

I work downtown -- up by Temple Square where all the construction makes driving nightmarish and walking not much better. There aren't a lot of places to get lunch close by, except for the Lion House and the Nauvoo Cafe, but you can't get out of either place for under $10. Because there's that obligatory slice of coconut cream pie that I cannot resist.

Hagermann's is sort of close, but I measure distances differently on the days I wear four-inch heels. On those days, it's too far away (one block).

A few months ago, the Junior Food Court opened on the first floor of my building. There were only two places in this conveniently-located dining hall, Chang Chun and Philly Steak & Cheese. My friend Kelly gets some kind of chicken something from Chang Chun that seriously tastes like its dredged in candy. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just weird to have candy-coated chicken bits for lunch. It's kind like ironing after you put your shirt on. Some things should be done sequentially, not simultaneously. Chicken, then dessert.

The Junior Food Court was to be replaced by the New Food Court (shouldn't it be the Senior Food Court?), but before Junior closed, Kelly and I made one final trip downstairs. He has a highly scientific system for ordering at Chang Chun -- but I can't really describe it here because it might be a little sexist. And possibly racist. I'm not going to condone that kind of behavior.

Anyway, Kelly steps up to the counter, points to one of the selections and asks, "Is that Kung Pao Chicken?"

The very nice man behind the counter says, "It's almost Kung Pao Chicken."

What?

Almost Kung Pao? I almost want some.