Our little town here in the Briefly Not Frozen North Land has a lot of good stuff to enjoy ~ beautiful gorgeous once-in-a-life-time-photo-ops ~ real life wildlife right in town with the human beings ~ almost around the clock daylight ~ places called Chilkoot Charlies and Granny B’s ~ politicians with colorful backgrounds and present grounds ~ mile upon mile of well maintained wonderful multiple use trails for walkers, bikers, moose, and rollerbladers ~ a state of the art international airport ~

But what it does not have, and cannot seem to hold onto, is a really really good Indian food restaurant.  and for this daal-loving woman, that’s a major deficit, a big red mark in the can’t believe we can’t sustain a really good restaurant that serves piping hot samosas and garlic naan. 

There are some deeLishious Thai and Mexican restaurants and food wagons.  but come to think of it there are not any blow-your-socks-off-while-you’re-wearing-your-winter-sorrel-boots Japanese restaurants here anymore either.  There used to be a couple of great ones but they seem to have gone by the wayside. 

These are the kinds of things I think of in the middle of studying my statistics/research design and test construction EPPP modules.  What type of food I am craving for someone else to cook for me.  Yes, visions of yummy ikura balls and comforting gyozas occupy my sensory memories.  That is until the null hypothesis calls me back to reality…