Jewel Allen's Blog

Once upon a time, a decade or so ago, I used to play the acoustic guitar.

It was an offshoot from when I performed with a garage rock band in a fit of SAHM boredom (long story). I wanted to learn the guitar so I could write some original songs. That segued into me quitting the band and performing at care centers and community events.

Eventually, I decided that I didn’t really have time nor the inclination to seriously devote to performing. I sold my guitar for a fraction of its cost to my son. Occasionally, I missed playing but I had come to peace that my musical phase was over.

—

Recently, my son was on the lookout for a new guitar. As I scoured the web on his behalf, I got bitten by the bug once again.

On impulse, I went to Guitar Center to look at their acoustic-electric inventory for myself. I preferred being able to try out a guitar in person anyway.

This time, I wanted a white guitar. White, I discovered, is a very niche color. There were a couple in the store and that was about it. I kept my expectations of finding an affordable white one low.

—

When I saw the D’Angelico guitar in gloss white wash, it was love at first sight. It felt a little big for me, but I liked the heft. I was also a little out of practice holding a guitar. Oh, it was so pretty.

By day’s end, I walked out of the store, more like hurried out, in a drizzle, driving my car up as the salesman put my new guitar on my backseat.

I had also ordered a mini Spark amp in the color pearl, which I got today. It has me thinking it might be fun to get an electric guitar as well. A white one.

And so it starts…

Once I started playing my acoustic-electric, muscle memory took over. I realized I’d missed having music in my life so much. It has been great therapy for me. Instead of doom scrolling on social media, I play a few songs and the world is right again.

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Jewel Allen is an author, foodie and traveler based in Northern Utah. Check out her novels and her quick guides to writing and publishing fast for profit.

Story and Photos by Jewel Allen

In August of 2022, I wrote this essay after shadowing my husband’s second cousin, Jasen Olsen, to research rodeos for a novel. He was then a 4-time Bareback Bronc World Champion. Nearly two years later, in July 2024, Jasen was hospitalized for serious injuries he sustained while competing in New Mexico. As he slowly recovered, he and Drew chatted about hunting together in mid-October. We heard the sad news that Jasen passed away on October 4, 2024, from complications of repeated brain trauma. Rest in peace, Jasen.

Last time I saw Jasen Olsen, his boot was hung in a stirrup off a crazed bronco dragging him across a rodeo arena. He broke both legs and six ribs, and punctured a lung. 

Fast forward three years later to a Saturday in July of 2022, and I was driving three hours from Utah to a rodeo in Bancroft, Idaho, to watch my husband’s second cousin compete in bareback bronc. His trademark event had earned him four world championships over the last three years. I wanted to shadow him as research for my cowboy romance novels.

It had only taken us two years to finally arrange this.

What happened was, I’d contact Jasen, he’d mention his schedule, I’d usually have a scheduling conflict, but nothing came of it. Meanwhile, I’d pretty much given up on the idea.

Until yesterday.

His event would be eight seconds long, if that. I told myself I would be driving three hours away to watch him compete for eight seconds, and what if he got injured? My husband said, then you would have an interesting inside view.

The prospect of hanging out with my husband’s second cousin without my husband (who had a previous commitment) was intimidating. Even though Jasen had been nice on the phone, he would be competing, and I felt uneasy intruding. But I knew if I didn’t do it then, I probably never would. Jasen’s other rodeos were in even farther locations.

—

On the day of the Bancroft rodeo, I planned to drive straight through. About an hour into my drive, I got a phone call from an unfamiliar female voice. She cut out a bit, and then I caught the words, “better half.” Finally it registered. She was Jasen’s girlfriend, and her name was Teresa. She was calling to arrange for us to meet at Jasen’s son’s house outside of Bancroft, then I would follow them to the rodeo grounds.

The day before, Jasen and I had talked on the phone.

“I get there about an hour early and pay the fees,” he said. “I stretch out thirty minutes before. I find out which horse I’m gonna ride. I make sure my horse is standing good and slide up on its back. I want them to have as good a shot as me. We tighten the cinch. I run my hand in the rigging, put my thumb over my fingers, and that’s it. It’s time to go.” His voice rose a notch in excitement. “There’s nothing in the world like it.”

I decided, as I was driving through this southeast part of Idaho, past Malad and farmland, that there was also nothing in the world like this state. For acres and acres on end, everything was green and fertile. The occasional farmhouse sprawled into a grove of mature trees, usually flanked by a red barn. Anyone who liked to poke fun that there was nothing but potatoes worth admiring in Idaho had obviously never driven past this beautiful scenery. This place had the stamp of rodeo all over it.

 I drove into Jasen’s son’s small town, population 794, and pulled up behind Teresa’s gray Colorado pick-up, its bed full of ropes and horse tack. Jasen’s grown son Porter, a solemn-faced cowboy in a button-down western shirt and hat greeted me, as did Teresa—a blonde and tanned woman in jeans, cowgirl boots and an airy white blouse. A calm, three-year-old pit bull stood beside her off-leash.

Jasen, whom I might have met in person years ago and whom I recognized from his Facebook photo, emerged from the house in a cream-colored hat, a white collared shirt with gray stripes, and jeans covering well-worn boots. He sauntered over to me, unsmiling.

“I’m Jewel,” I said.

He shook my hand slowly, his brows knit together. “Jewel who?” he asked, before breaking into a teasing smile. That was the first of many jokes he would spring on me over the next few hours.

Earlier that morning, I had resisted wearing jeans to the rodeo. It was late July, for goodness sake, and the thought of putting close-fitting fabric on my legs made me irritable. I considered wearing one of my favorite summer dresses. However, I pictured trying to get photos as I scrambled over railings and relented. The jeans won out. Tucked in my dusty boots, they actually didn’t feel too uncomfortable.

Jasen introduced me to a young girl who looked to be about five and pointed at my boots. “Do you know why she’s wearing those? Because she knows your grandpa’s full of s***.”

For a fifty-one year old man, heralded as one of the older competitors in his event, Jasen looked to be in good health, like he could still haul hay bales all day on his ranch in unincorporated Tooele County. But he walked with that slightly uneven gait that also indicated he’d been thrown off one too many bucking horses in his lifetime.

In my sedan, I followed their truck as it sped through the highways past Lava Hot Springs’s pool, crowded for the weekend, to Bancroft. We arrived about half an hour later to a dirt lot full of vehicles where our convoy was allowed into the competitor area.

I parked next to their truck and got out. Teresa took her pit bull out of the truck and waited with me. Jasen had gone over to stand beside a truck, his back turned to us.

“Is that his truck?” I asked.

And then it dawned on me what he was doing, just as she shook her head. His back was turned to us but his belt was unbuckled and his jeans slightly loose around the waist. I quickly averted my gaze.

—

Jasen made me feel like a minor celebrity, showing me around and introducing me to people. He had cleared with the contractor earlier about my going behind the scenes. The reply had been, “She won’t get run over by horses, will she?” Jasen said I had my own and that I was a relative so of course I was also into horses. The part about being a relative made me chuckle because obviously, with me being Asian and he being white, it wasn’t by blood.

The contractor was a no-nonsense guy who still managed to smile, even though it was obvious he had a million other things on his mind other than accommodating an author doing book research.

“Feel free to take photos wherever you want,” he said, pumping my hand with vigor, adding with pride in his voice that this was the oldest consecutive rodeo in Idaho, at 112 years. He and Jasen took me upstairs to the broadcaster stand and I took a photo of sheep in a chute, where they’d be starting the mutton bustin’ soon. But I couldn’t see past that chute to the others, so I decided where I really wanted to be was down below.

Jasen led me past five or six chutes with wood platforms next to them. Across from a narrow walkway, bulls milled around in small pens, their longhorns poking out between the bars. I scoped spots where I could take photos from, briefly considering sitting up there on the bull pen’s rail, but nixing that as I imagined myself falling in accidentally.

Three kids who ranged from pre-teen to a few years older gazed at Jasen in hero worship as he opened his duffle bag and started getting his stuff out. I shot photos until I realized he had taken his pants off to change into a different pair of jeans, his shirt hem falling to his hips. I turned my lens the opposite direction until he was done changing.

The area behind the chutes was taken up predominantly by boys and men. A girlfriend or two in short shorts accompanied some competitors briefly, but the contractor announced that unless you were competing, to clear out the area as it was getting crowded. I stayed.

Jasen held up his rigging which consisted of a little triangle that would go on the withers of the horse, a sturdy leather loop that looked like a suitcase handle where he’d insert his gloved hand so he could give it a good grip, and long maple-colored leather latigos. He coated the girth two or three times generously with baby powder, which he explained made everything slick. I quipped, “I thought it was so that you would smell good,” and that made him and a bull-riding friend nearby laugh.

This whole time, there was a lot of bantering and teasing. Someone came up to me (at Jasen’s instigation I was sure) asking me for a bull. A man in his eighties with a smart-looking western scarf around his neck pointed at my camera saying my lens cap was on. Jasen cracked jokes until the mutton busting started and the bareback riders were asked to prepare. Then his demeanor sobered.

He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged off his right sleeve. With his back turned to me, he wrapped his bicep and forearm with white athletic tape. “It’s to keep my arm from hyperextending,” he explained. He dressed again, stretched his arms and legs, and attached thin spurs to his boots. Minutes later, he was kneeling along the bull pen, eyes closed, his hat off his head in silent prayer.

—

As Jasen warned, once the competition got underway, the wood platforms filled with people and activity. The horses, penned next to the bulls, were prodded down this caged alley, a gate shutting between each chute. Jasen’s was a tall and handsome bay horse.

Luckily, Jasen’s chute was the one at the end, so I was able to position myself with the camera alternating with my cell phone to capture footage. He, along with a half a dozen people including his grown sons Cole and Porter, crowded his chute to get the horse ready. This was when I was most grateful that I had worn jeans, as I had to wide-straddle the chute rails to maintain my balance for a good photo angle. I imagined the horse busting out of the chute with Jasen, rocking me out of my perch and onto the ground below.

As the team put on his rigging and cinched the horse up, the announcer played up Jasen’s presence in glowing terms: he was a four-time world champion, and, could you believe he was fifty? Could all that pressure mess a little with one’s head?

With a neck brace tied down with a thin rope around his upper body and his cowboy hat snug on his head, Jasen lowered himself onto the horse’s back. There wasn’t a lot of extra room in the chute. In this extremely restricted space, the animal was a coiled spring waiting to explode. Jasen’s gloved hand got into the rigging, and, like he had described to me earlier, he lowered his thumb over his fingers. He leaned back into position, nodded his head, and two handlers swung open the gate.

It all happened so fast, I took a video and might have blinked once, and then four seconds or so later, it was over with a no-score. Jasen was on the ground, spinning to his feet and looking back at the horse that was bucking his way close to the stands, two pickup men flanking it. Turning at his heel and tapping his hat low on his brow, Jasen made his way back to the chutes, his face hidden by the brim of his hat.

I looked at my video later and this is how I reconstructed what happened.

Jasen’s body arched backwards, his legs scissoring up in one fluid motion. With his hand in the rigging, he stayed on as the horse bucked high and kicked, flicking him into the air twice like a rag doll. One more buck, and then his seat started to pivot on the horse’s back. There were no stirrups, no saddle to keep him on, and by the time he was sideways, it only took the horse one more buck before launching Jasen into a somersault. Jasen slammed hard, face down into the dirt. Somehow through all that, his hat stayed on. He got up and stared at the horse before marching back to the chutes.

Jasen and his sons

One of his sons, Porter, was next. He and Jasen were the only bareback bronc riders; the others had scratched. Jasen walked up to his son’s chute and said, “Whatever you do, son, don’t do it like I did.” He also said, “Keep your mind in the middle, you got this.” Unfortunately, his son suffered the same fate. After a few seconds short of eight, he fell off, earning a no-score.

I was still standing on my platform when Jasen returned to his now-empty chute to collect his duffle bag, giving me a bemused smile. “That was embarrassing,” he said.

“You don’t get to do a do-over?” I asked, hoping on his behalf, but he shook his head.

“We’ll go to Malad next,” he said resolutely. When I asked if he meant he and his sons, he pointed at me. “No, you’re going to.” I told him I hoped to be able to come.

—

By the time we made our way out of the competitor’s area, Jasen’s girlfriend Teresa had left to go to a birthday party for her son. Earlier, I had told her I’d love to chat and get a rodeo partner’s perspective. I lowered my voice, but Jasen had heard me tease, “How do you put up with it?”

Before Jasen competed, Teresa and I exchanged a few words. “It’s hard for me to watch,” she said. “Sometimes, I have to cover my eyes with my hand, and other people have to tell me what happened.”

I wondered if, after his spill today, she was as blasé as Jasen was acting. She’d seen worse falls, like the time he got hung up by the stirrup. At least, this time, he wasn’t injured. Well, he admitted, his pride was.

“When I’ve won, I sign autographs,” he said. “Not today. It’s humbling.” He glanced back at the chutes. “I was humbled, right there.”

But his dimples flashed, and even his sons, piling into a car with him, didn’t seem too bummed over the outcome. The competition was over and they dug eagerly into fast food, passing a cold slushy drink to their father.

Jasen gives a young mutton busting competitor some advice.

—

To generations of horsemen like Jasen’s family, competing in the rodeo is a badge of honor, a rite of passage. As a young man, Jasen competed despite his fear. He was more scared of disappointing his father than of what a bucking animal could do to him.

In Bancroft he was carrying on a long tradition in a sport he and his ancestors have loved and known for forever. It’s a brotherhood and sisterhood that knows no blood bounds. I caught a glimpse of this as Jasen gave someone else’s mutton bustin’ kid advice, and as he gave adult riders a pep talk at the chutes.

As we parted ways, Jasen wished me a safe drive. He and his family planned to do some R&R in Flaming Gorge, after which they would be prepping for, what else, the next rodeo.

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Jewel Allen is an award-winning journalist and author. The novel she wrote and dedicated to Jasen Olsen after shadowing him is A Cowboy for All-Seasons .

Watch my Grand America Afternoon Tea video on YouTube

If I only even just sat at the table to stare at the afternoon tea offerings, I would have been perfectly happy.

In July 2024, we stayed at The Grand America Hotel in downtown Salt Lake City to celebrate our 32nd wedding anniversary. To cap off a relaxing, indulgent weekend, we made reservations for afternoon tea at noon.

Tea was held at the Lobby Lounge, a beautifully appointed dining area which is the first thing you see upon entering the hotel. We were one of the first ones seated. Soon, other tables filled with groups of mostly women and girls, many of whom wore dresses. Some completed their outfit with fancy hats. For our part, I wore a longish chiffon dress while Drew wore a gray polo shirt and a pale peach tie.

Our male server went out of his way to make our experience wonderful. He offered to take our photos, explained what we had in our three-tier tray and repeated his whole spiel so I could video him (and thus know what we were served).

He also brought out a special lemon tart with Happy Anniversary spelled out in chocolate.

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“How long have you been married?” our server asked Drew and me.

“Thirty-two years,” I answered.

His mouth rounded in an O. “Well, he said, marriage isn’t easy. It’s so tempting to say, ‘I don’t like you, let’s get divorced.’ Keep fighting for it.”

I thanked him, then asked how long he’s been married.

“It would have been 42 years this year,” he said. His eyes filled with tears.

A week after his mother passed away, his wife died in a car accident. That was nearly 20 years ago.

—

I took only a bite of each item, to make sure I had room for everything, and even then, I got stuffed pretty quickly. My favorites were the salmon and cucumber sandwiches. The macarons were a perfect delicate bite. The scones (which I pronounced scons like the British, reportedly, but which Drew rolled his eyes over) were amazing with the Devonshire cream, raspberry jam, and lemon curd. The whole presentation was so pretty.

For drinks, we had their hot chocolate—Drew chose raspberry and I chose coconut almond.

“How many other teas have you signed us up for the next three months?” Drew asked me as our meal wound down.

“Two,” I said, “one in the pump room in Bath and the other at Fortnum & Mason in London.” My super sweet husband who patiently tolerates a lot of my shenanigans, simply smiled.

—

Afternoon Tea menu

Hot chocolate (Coconut almond for me, Raspberry for my husband)

Top tier:

Smoked salmon, dill aioli and shrimp on marbled rye bread

Ham and white cheddar Lightly grilled Pumpernickel bread

Organic brown egg salad sandwich with yellow mustard and paprika

Thin sliced cucumber and dill aioli with mild horseradish sauce

Middle tier:

Cherry almond cake

Raspberry macaron

Apple cinnamon with pear cream sauce

Bottom tier:

Butter cookie with fresh raspberry jam

Citrus madeleine with zest of lemon

House-made scones

Fresh jam, lemon curd and Devonshire cream

Watch my Grand America Afternoon Tea video on YouTube.

—

Thank you for reading. Check out my novels and my quick guides to writing and publishing fast for profit. I also write travel books.

Our Scotland guide sent us our 4-day fall itinerary that starts in Edinburgh, goes through the Highlands, and ends with a road trip to just past the northern border of England. From there we will have two days to spend elsewhere on our way south to Cornwall.

I’m glad we’re enlisting her services because a) someone else will be driving us while we are jet lagged and b) she can fashion a more efficient route to make the most of our time. Drew’s more than happy to drive (he did in Ireland) but with the compressed schedule, hiring a guide will be better.

Our itinerary includes paddleboarding in a loch, sightseeing in a gondola, horseback riding in the Highlands, visiting castles and staying in one, traveling on the Jacobite train (Hogwarts Express), going on a sunrise walk, enjoying a Sunday pub roast, and sampling, what else, fish and chips.

In 2023, my husband and I decided to completely revamp our yard in northern Utah. In all, it took about nine months juggling contractor work and sweat equity to accomplish the changes. Here are before and after transformation pics. Scroll to the end for the list of contractors.

Before: A Wild Entryway

Granted, the meadow look was kind of pretty, but everything was overgrown. The gravel driveway was undefined and looked lopsided.

After: Curb Appeal

We finished the concrete driveway to the road, which now leads the eye to the house. The symmetrical shape and edges provided a nice counterbalance to the uncultivated areas.

Planting beds were added to both sides of the driveway, abutting the front fail fence. The evergreen trees and shrubs provided visual interest.

Before

After

Extending the walkway around the front flower bed created a more orderly but not overly formal look.

Converting the lawn areas in the front and side of the house to decorative rock and chat gravel was done to lessen our water usage. The rock incorporated drought-tolerant plants in the landscape design. The planting bed around the house included perennials that have ample room to mature in. I can indulge in annuals and decorations in planters I’ve added to the original design.

* * *

Before: Unused Horse Pasture

I’m not sure when the idea of having a pickleball court started to germinate, but we’ve enjoyed playing the pickleball in recent years so it got in our radar. Our grown children also enjoy the sport, so we decided to add a court in pasture that we typically don’t use for the horses. Or if we do, we can fence it off.

After: Pickleball / Basketball Court

Now that our three children are grown and married, it’s fun having activities that adults and children can all participate in.

* * *

Before: An Untidy Deck

The idea of a deck has always appealed to us, so we added one to our house when it was first built. Eventually, however, the weeds took over the gravel rock around it and it was too windy to keep furniture in it. Flies were also an issue.

After: A Cozy 4-Season Sunroom

Since we were pouring cement for a patio anyway, we looked into enclosing the deck into a sunroom. After doing some research, we decided on contracting the windows, electrical, and HVAC separately, instead of going with a sunroom contractor, which saved us money. Enclosing the deck was the Best. Decision. Ever. The sunroom is now my favorite room in the house. With windows on three sides and a mini-split unit that heats and cools, we have used this space all seasons. Our patio furniture and meals are protected from the elements and bugs and automated blinds keep the space comfortable.

* * *

Before: An Uninspired Side Yard

After: Function Meets Aesthetic

This photo seems like a seamless blend of elements–the decorative rock next to the concrete sidewalk next to the planting bed next to the fenced in gravel dog run. Coordinating all the moving parts among different contractors was anything but simple, but it was worth it to have a functional and appealing side yard. The addition of a man gate to the dog run allows Lily to enjoy our yard when we are outside, too.

Before

After

* * *

Before: Grass, Grass, and More Grass

Before the makeover, we had lawn in the side and front yards, which meant a lot more mowing and watering.

After: Xeriscaped Garden

Bonus: The rock seems to attract wildlife. This is a killdeer nesting in the rocks.

* * *

Before: Undefined Play Areas

After: Children’s Play Area

* * *

CONTRACTORS

Landscape Design: Landcurve

Landscaping: Utah Wildflower Co.

Concrete: H&H

Electrical: Curtiss Electric

Fencing: DE Fence

It all started because I wanted an air fryer.

I was looking at different brands. My friends were recommending some and I’d been looking online at the different models. In the process of looking for an air fryer, I got into a discussion with my husband and one of the things that came up was being able to cook fish and chips in it. We are also planning a trip to England in the fall, and England is known for it.

I ended up not buying an air fryer but I got a craving for fish and chips so we went to a restaurant. I was super disappointed. I told my husband, “I want to know where the best fish and chips are along the Wasatch Front.” I made a Facebook post getting recommendations from friends and I got so many suggestions. I got kind of excited because I had all these places to try.

I also scoured the internet, looked up reviews, and read threads and comments on Reddit. One of the Reddit threads came up, and I was struck with how opinionated they were. One said he was a fish and chips fiend and he had a list of restaurants and included his top one. Turns out there are a lot of fish and chips “fiends” out there.

At first, I planned to go once every week. But I ended up doing back to back ones over three weeks so I could fairly judge each while my memories were fresh. My criteria: 1) It’s recommended either by friends or on internet reviews, 2) It’s not a national chain, and 3) It’s within an hour or so of Salt Lake City. I also didn’t try super expensive places to keep my list reasonable and affordable for families. Even so, I spent a whopping $157.36 on the whole venture (for one serving, not including taxes, tips and other items). On the plus side, I lost three pounds.

If you’d like to watch this post on YouTube, click here. Here are my recommendations, in reverse order:

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9. Porcupine Pub & Grille, Cottonwood Heights

My husband and I went to Porcupine Pub & Grille at Cottonwood Heights in the middle of the afternoon. It wasn’t really crowded. You can tell just by looking around that it was a ski crowd. People were wearing ski outfits and looked like they’d had a lot of fun in the mountains.

I ordered their fish and chips for $26.99 and my husband ordered their seafood pasta special. When I got my fish and chips, I was surprised because for the price the fish seemed kind of small. But I gave it a try. It was quite meaty and not greasy. All in all, it was good, but it was a bit of money for what you got.

Cost: $26.99

Porcupine Pub & Grille Website

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8. The Outpost, Grantsville

I first went to The Outpost on the west end of Main Street in Grantsville. I’ve loved the food at The Outpost on the west end of Main Street in Grantsville, so I had high hopes.

It was close to noon but the place wasn’t too busy yet. Which was good. Although I’ve developed a thicker skin vlogging at restaurants, I feel more comfortable if I’m not out where everyone can see me. I requested a booth by the window and was ushered to one.

From the get-go, I told my 20-something server what I was doing. That he shouldn’t take it personally if I were to try just a few bites, and then take home the rest. I was on a quest to find the best fish and chips.

“Ooh,” he said, his eyes lighting up, “that sounds fun.”

I wanted to say, “Yeah, at first it sounded super fun, too. Nowadays it feels a little like I’m force-feeding myself fish and fries every time I’ve eaten out the past three weeks. But somebody’s gotta do it.” Instead, I smiled and said, “Yeah, it is.”

The fish and chips meal came with three pieces of breaded cod, steak fries, coleslaw, and soup. I wasn’t going to get soup, but when he said shrimp chowder, I had to try it. It was so good, with some plump shrimp, scallops, and soft potato in a creamy sauce. I took a couple of bites so I would have room for the main event, but I could have kept going.

My server brought out a plate with massive steak fries and three pieces of fish. The fish was nicely crisp with a light flavor. The coleslaw was excellent, some of the best I’ve had.

After I got my taste and footage and paid, I passed my server on my way out. He said, “Enjoy your day and good luck with your quest for the best.”

Cost: 14.99

The Outpost Facebook page

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7. Hook and Ladder Co., Salt Lake City

I suppose I could’ve guessed as much that a restaurant with a name of Hook and Ladder would have something to do with firefighters, considering I write firefighter romances. But I didn’t. So it was with pleasant surprise that I pulled up into a parking lot at this Glendale, Utah, icon and saw a red firehouse-themed building.

Inside, on one wall separating the kitchen from the dining area was a tribute to the local fire unit. There were booths along the window and a bistro table. I chose to sit at the bistro table, thinking it would be more visually appealing for when I could set up a shot of myself sitting at it. I did get a shot, but cut off the restaurant name. By the time I realized it, however, a woman and her preteen son had claimed that booth.

The one thing I am learning on my quest for the best fish and chips along the Wasatch Front is that coming between meals is easier to film because that way I don’t have a crowd to feel self-conscious around, plus I could sometimes borrow another table so I could set up my camera on it.

One of the things that sets this place apart from the other ones I’ve gone to so far is that there’s a lot more choices on the menu than just fish and chips which would make my husband happy.

They had burgers, tacos, ice cream and more. While I was waiting for my order, a customer asked for a burger with a fried egg over easy. It might be one of those secret combinations that isn’t available on the menu and I might just try that sometime.

I had the seafood special which was three pieces of fish, six shrimp, fries, and a toasted roll.

The fish was crisp on the outside and flaky on the inside so that was delicious but I realized that I prefer a meatier fish. The fries were OK—kind of on the thin side which dried them out just a little bit. It was nice to have all the sauces. My fish actually tasted really good with a malt vinegar.

It cost about $14 which is on the lower end of fish and chips that I’ve tried so far and it’s a really good value.

The best thing? The atmosphere is just really fun. The whole fire house theme makes it all special.

—

Next door is a floral shop which also carries over that vintage theme and it is just chock-full of all this antique stuff like phones and decorations, plus knickknacks like typewriters. There’s a sign that says that none of them are for sale so it’s really super interesting like going to a museum. And then somewhere buried in this building is a counter where the florist is.

I talk to the lady behind the counter, and I asked her if hook and ladder was a chain. When I was googling it before I had that impression. But I was wrong. It’s not a chain. Hook and Ladder was started by the owner because he loved firefighting even though he wasn’t even in that profession.

So my verdict on Hook and Ladder is it has a well-deserved reputation for a good dining experience because of the nostalgia and also because of the unique and fun atmosphere. Another plus is that if you’re ever dragging your spouse to yet another fish and chips restaurant, they can order something else off the menu and everybody can be happy.

Cost: 13.99

—

6. Tin Roof Grill, Sandy

After the show, Drew and I went to the Tin Roof Grill roof, where I had — yep, you guessed it– fish and chips. While waiting for our order, I studied a framed sign on the wall—Guy Fieri made this a stop on his Dives and Diners show.

The fish is haddock. The serving portion is the biggest that I’ve had so far. It was crunchy and meaty but some of it was mostly batter. Where I did bite into the fish however, it was succulent and moist. My husband got their ribeye steak. This was actually the reason why we chose to go there — because he could have a steak while I ate fish and chips yet again. My fish and chips cost $19.50 while dessert was eight bucks each.

I think I’m to the point where I need to stop trying more fish and chips. I suspect most restaurants have their version of the fish and chips. I like them but not THAT much. I might do a couple more. But I will compile all my footage and reviews and create a video. I may have to do it as a part one.

To cap off dinner, Drew and I had dessert. I had their crème Catalana while Drew had their dark chocolate and raspberry cheesecake. I can see why Guy Fieri stopped here.

Cost: $19.50

Tin Roof Grill Website

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5. Hug-Hes Cafe, Stansbury Park (also other locations)

By midday, I was ready for the day and resolved to go out for fish and chips. I said resolved because I might have thought about it with a sigh. Just three more restaurants to go…

I drove some 15 minutes to a Stansbury Park a strip mall where one of six Hug-Hes restaurants in Utah is located.

The cookies in a glass case are the first thing that tempt you when you walk in. Right away, I got a pink sugar cookie decorated like an Easter egg and, just because it looked so appealing with its white glaze, a lemon zucchini cookie.

I asked to sit in a booth, once again, grateful for the anonymity since no one could see me, though it was right by the kitchen entrance so I occasionally felt weird filming or taking photos of my food, not that the staff made me feel uncomfortable. My server was a young woman who nodded and studied me curiously when I gave her a heads up about what I was doing. Other than that, she was super helpful, bringing me an extra plate so I could take photos of the cookies.

Once again, I asked for fish and chips. Mine came with steak fries and a choice of another side. I was going to get veggies, but then asked about their soup. She said minestrone or poblano. I picked the latter. It was so good, with soft chunks of chicken and a creamy soup base was pure comfort. Funny how in one day, I would have two creamy soups that were great in their own way.

I gotta hand it to Hug-Hes. Their presentation is on point. My server brought their beer bread which is unlike any other bread I’ve head in a restaurant. It’s a lot like pound bread, but moister and not quite as sweet. It comes with a little container of strawberry spread and whipped butter. I took a bite and waited for the rest of the meal.

I’ve been losing weight since taking on this quest, incidentally. On the days when I know I’ll be fish and chipping, I eat lighter fare during the day. Maybe a smoothie and overnight oats for breakfast, fruit and cheese for lunch and chips for a mid-afternoon snack. So I was able to curb my impulse to gorge on the bread, as delicious as it was.

The fish and chips came in a rectangular plate which is already a treat on its own. I like meals where the dishes aren’t an afterthought or common. Plated this way, where the steak fries sit in a silver cup alongside balls of breaded fish, it’s definitely a fun visual. The fish was a bit too moist for my taste, but the batter was nicely crispy. The steak fries were about on par as The Outpost, but I’d say Hug-Hes was the winner in the fish contest.

The server brought me my check and asked if I was a food vlogger. I told her I would be posting this on YouTube as soon as I try the last place on my list this Friday with Drew. She asked if I did other foods, too. I told her no, thinking that I wouldn’t be able to sustain this unless I was bringing in a sizeable income or if someone was paying for me to do this.

Cost: $16.99

Hug-Hes Cafe website

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4. Ty Fish & Chips, Sandy

This was our third restaurant and by now, my husband was very reluctant. He’s kind of sick of fish and chips. To be honest, I was actually thinking, ugh, not another fish and chips.

But holy fish, it was so good.

The owner of the restaurant, Ty, helped us at the counter. I got the 2-piece fish and my husband got shrimp. I got given three pieces by accident, but Ty said to go ahead and keep it.

For the fries, I chose the truffle sauce, which is like elevated mayo. I preferred the ketchup, but my husband really liked it. We also got a couple of other sauces, tartar and mango curry.

The star of the meal was the fish.

It was so light on the inside and tender crisp on the outside. I had read some reviews saying the portions weren’t a lot of food, but it was for me. I ate one and a half pieces and I was full. Drew really really liked it. In fact, he said that so far of the three we have tried. This was his favorite. The secret to this one? Ty uses red snapper for the fish. Which makes for a really light and good flavor.

Also of note: This was the least expensive of all the ones I tried, and you definitely got more for the money.

Cost: $11.00

Ty Fish & Chips Website

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3. Proper Brewing Company, the Avenues

The more I am at this quest, the harder my job appears to be. As I went to this next fish and chips location, I was reminded that there are actually food critics out there that might already have crowned the best of in all sorts of things for Utah. I’m talking about City weekly and their annual Best Of.

The reason I came to Proper Brewing Company in the Avenues was because I had to go to a medical appointment across the street from it. I just zipped around the block and came to this restaurant that I didn’t even know existed.

The first thing I noticed was that there was a chocolatier next to it, called Hatch family chocolates. I made a mental note to come back here after fish and chips. I stayed focused and went next-door to a sleek, modern space with black and platinum accents.

A friendly server came over to help me. I browsed through the menu, which had a number of really really good offerings and quickly answered, “fish and chips.” After a short wait, she brought me a large square plate of fries on which was nestled a couple of breaded salmon fillets.

It’s really not easy to gauge which is the best fish and chips. The kind of fish makes a huge difference. In this case I love salmon; ask my husband and I could have a salmon bowl every day of the week. 

But this wasn’t salmon as I knew it. It’s deep-fried in a crispy batter that is not even burn in my mouth but I could just jump in and enjoy right away. Unlike other regular fish and chips, salmon packs a lot of flavor.

The fries were a lot in terms of amount and also flavor. I don’t know what they season it with but it was a good salty. Coupled with their spicy tartar sauce (spicy being just a slight kick), their fries were amazing.

At 21 bucks, the meal was on the pricier side, but in this case, it was well worth it.

I ate only most of one fillet to make room for my chocolate dessert. I went next-door to Hatch Family Chocolates and, after some deliberation, I picked a little foil cup of pots de crème. I also got a chocolate chip cookie for the hubby so that he knows that I’m thinking about him even as a spare him, yet again, another fish and chips joint.

Cost: $21.00

Proper Brewing Co. website

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2. Summerhays Halibut ‘N Chips, SLC

My husband met me and our toddler grandson at Summerhays Halibut ‘N Chips. The vibe is very much tropical/Hawaii. The walls are painted bright, pastel colors and there are colorful decorations around. This business is in a strip mall on Highland Drive. But it definitely was fun!

You order at the counter, behind which was an extensive menu of fish and chips, as well as other things that you could do with seafood like tacos, salads you name it. I was there mostly for the fish and chips, but I was also intrigued by the soups.

I asked the lady employee at the counter what she recommended, and she had the expression of someone that knew that was a very broad question. She mentioned the fish and chips and the soups. That night they had clam chowder or lobster bisque. I love clam chowder, but I was also curious about the bisque, so Drew ordered the chowder and I had the other one.

Our order came pretty quickly. We had just started feeding our grandson when a couple of trays were brought over. And that was when I remembered I had wanted to try their Piccadilly chips, which, from what I understand, are cut like they usually do in the UK.

I went back up to the counter and told the lady employee that I had meant to order Piccadilly chips. Normally they charge extra, but she went ahead and said they would just throw them in. In this elated state, I join my family, and took a bite of the halibut. The breading was just the right amount of crisp not soggy not burnt. Inside was fluffy halibut. It was, seriously one of the best breaded fish I’ve ever had.

I didn’t try much of the regular french fries, but when the Piccadillies were brought over to me, I dug into them with pleasure. They were small with a nice crispy coding. Not as heavy as french fries, which I really liked.

I went back to the counter to ask for cocktail sauce and complemented a guy who seem to be in some higher up position.

“It’s good isn’t it?” he said. “There’s a cult around it.”

I could believe it. The fish was meaty and moist. I tried it with malt vinegar and I decided that Mark vinegar sounds better than it tastes. But it didn’t matter, because the food was so good.

My lobster bisque had a little kick. It was really good with lots of good lobster chunks, but I must say, that my husband’s clam chowder was so much better. But at least I will know for the next time.

Cost: $18.90

Summerhays Halibut ‘N Chips website

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1. Strap Tank Brewery, Lehi

My top favorite was Strap Tank Brewery in Lehi. Strap Tank Brewery, say that fast.

There are currently two locations for this restaurant. The other one in Springville has a motorcycle museum, if that’s your jam. The whole restaurant has that steampunk vibe—with airplane décor hanging from the ceiling. If only for that, this restaurant is worth checking out.

The truth is, a restaurant is the sum of more than just the food. Of course the fish and chips themselves are important—the flavor, the crispiness of the fries—but also the whole ambience really contributes to the dining experience. That’s what I’ve found in the last three weeks trying out different fish and chips.

Our server brought out this huge plate of fries and fish for me while my husband had their French dip sandwich. I was floored that for $14 I got as much food as I did.

I could already tell, picking up the fish, that its texture will be light and crispy. I took a bite, and I was right. The fries had a tasty seasoning that I was eating two at a time, I couldn’t eat them fast enough.

I read a review where they said, they’ve been to England and Strap Tank Brewery is the only place that served fish and chips anywhere close to that. That was quite the expectation. Did Strap Tank meet it today? Absolutely.

Cost: $14.00

Strap Tank Brewery website

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And there you have it! Thanks so much for reading. If you have any other recommendations for fantastic fish and chips in or around SLC or tried any of these places, feel free to leave a comment.

***

I have a new firefighter romance to draft, but I need to get this off my chest. I need to share my tale of how our yard makeover almost broke my marriage.

This is what happened…

We had been in this house for ten years when we finally decided we needed to re-do our entire yard. We live on six acres of horse property out in the country, but carved out only a half acre for our home and yard. When we first moved in, we’d commissioned barns and fences. To simplify matters (and due to cash flow realities), the yard simply involved lawn in the front, side, and back.

Fast forward ten years later, and our kids have grown and flown, and we’re empty nesters. We’re back to hosting little babies, this time our married children with their children. The use of our yard has evolved over time. We’re back to having a dog, even though I vowed, after our beagle Emmie died, that I would never have a dog again; losing one would be too painful.

So, with a casual inventory of what our yard needed, we could at least agree upon: a dog run, a back lawn for sports, a sport court, low-maintenance flower beds, and xeriscaping.

***

We knew right away that we were in trouble. We had three different contractors come to bid on our yard, but my husband and I couldn’t agree on the elements we wanted. I wanted a fence for our return to dog ownership; he questioned if that was a need. I wanted to go ahead and put in a playset, though our grandkids are still babies. In the end, I mostly got my way, though I did agree to his soccer lawn.

I suggested working with a landscape architect, and my husband reluctantly agreed. Even that process had its share of headaches, but ultimately, getting a design professionally done was worth every single penny.

If I were to advise anyone attempting a yard makeover, it would be this: get a plan on paper.

***

Having a design helped with contractor bids. This time, we could truly compare apples to apples. If the contractor had a question, we only needed to say, “Look at the design.”

Having a professional design also meant that I had fewer decisions to make. I don’t recommend this to everyone, but our designer even picked out our plants. Luckily, once they were delivered from the nursery, we liked them. I might have gone with more showy flowering bushes, but they are all drought tolerant. Living in Utah, that’s a big deal.

Once we got bids and got over the sticker shock (somewhat), we picked our contractors and they got to work.

Before embarking on a full yard makeover, one must assess the health of one’s marriage, to make sure it can withstand the stresses of dealing with contractors and ever-shifting schedules. We tried to save money by cobbling together one main contractor, and sub other parts. I could totally see why we would have paid more for someone to organize it all.

Every day raised a new set of questions and collaborations between the landscaper and the concrete guy, the fence guy and the electrician. When someone got behind, as they invariably did, I (working from home) was caught in the middle, trying to smooth things out, trying to get back on someone’s schedule.

I cried many tears. My poor husband had to endure my nightly tirades. I fired our initial fire pit contractor, delaying the project further.

“How badly do you want a fire pit?” I railed against my husband as we stared down another two weeks of delays.

In the end, it all worked out.

That plan on paper actually translated to the real thing, with maybe a few tweaks here and there. The whole yard is done, except for an addition to our driveway, which should be completed in two weeks, weather permitting.

For Labor Day yesterday, two of our kids and their families came over and we played pickle ball on our new sport court, played a game of fetch with the dogs on our lawn, and swung on the new play set for the grandkids. We ran out of time, or we’d have sat around the fire pit.

***

When our kids first saw the makeover, they marveled and said, “Wow, this is nothing like it was two months ago.” And I looked around, marveling too. It all feels like a dream, like I had simply woken up one morning and everything sprang up overnight.

But it didn’t. Don’t I know it! I give credit to the amazing craftsmen who made over our yard, one layer at a time, and who didn’t quit even though I am sure I gave them every reason to.

And my husband, well. He deserves sainthood for his patience through the whole project. But then again, he’s gotten quite a bit of practice over the past 33 years being married to me.

In another ten years, who knows how the yard will look like? But I’ll enjoy it for now.

***

Thank you for reading!

Check out my novels and my quick guides to writing and publishing fast for profit .

I was having brunch with a half dozen, mostly women friends from high school I hadn’t seen in at least a decade when I made that confession.

There was stunned silence. And then someone said, her voice tinged with disbelief, “You haven’t?”

It was the sort of reaction kind of like when one of your girlfriends has a run in her pantyhose and you want to say something but it’s not like there’s an easy solution, so you don’t.

I might as well have stood up at a mic and said, “My name is Jewel Allen and I am still searching for the right lip color.”

Admitting it sounded like the most shallow thing in the world because I was sure it gave them the impression I obsess about this daily.

Sheesh. Of course not. I only think about it every other day.

I want a lip color, preferably red, that looks great with my complexion, makes me look kissable, goes with whatever outfit I have on that day, and doesn’t rub off as soon as I leave the bathroom. Is that too much to ask?

It wouldn’t be such a sore spot between me, myself and I if I didn’t already own half the lipstick merchandise available to women. Believe me, I have looked.

I’ve tried the cheap, single-use drugstore brand. I’ve even gone to expensive department stores, sat in their klieg lights, bought not just lipstick but also their moisturizing balm, lip primer, and anti-aging eye cream, just to come home to realize it is still the “wrong” color on me.

In a pinch, I’ve combined lipsticks, but that is an exhausting and unreliable way of getting the right color, especially since I tend to forget what the combinations are.

Isabella Rosellini, an actress who was popular in the 1980s with lush Italian looks and the most amazing red lips, ruined me for life. I always thought she was the epitome of beauty, with that effortless way of carrying red, red lips.

When I got older with more disposable income, I made a run for that smoky Isabella look. When you are wearing jeans and a shirt and going to Walmart for a milk run somehow red lips look cringe.

To play it safe, I have gotten pink-hued lipstick. Which looks like that dewy, just-kissed look for a few minutes until you realize someone snookered you into paying for lip color that looks just like your natural lips.

What have I done with all those wrong lipsticks, you say? That’s the weird thing. I can’t seem to part with them. Deep down I hope one of these days I will win the lipstick lottery and connect with a color and declare that it does look good on me after all.

Oh, and if you think I should try online shopping, well, don’t you think that’s a bad idea? If I can’t get it right by trying it on in person, how much more wrong would it be if I didn’t?

I’ve also learned not to go by what looks good on others, though it has taken me years to learn this lesson.

One time, my hairstylist who admittedly would look hot even with car wax on her lips was sporting a certain red color. After I gushed over how good she looked, she told me it was her go-to. She buys two at a time.

Sold on the idea I could be like her, I bought the very same lip color and tried to convince myself that I was like my stylist friend, glamorous and chic, only for the magic to poof like Cinderella at midnight once confronted with my bathroom mirror reflection.

Maybe it’s my bathroom mirror that needs to be replaced, you think?

This is a pep talk for those of us who might not have done so well the first time we tried something.

For me, that list would include: making macarons, writing a novel, singing in front of an audience, and now, I can include baking a prime rib roast.

This weekend, thanks to friends who suggested this recipe, my prime rib roast turned out great.

I could have given up on it after that first Christmas near-fiasco when my prime rib roast turned out way undercooked. Could have decided not to try again. Instead, I asked around for success stories, learned from my past experience, and went for it. Again.

There will be many things we won’t master the first try. Thank goodness for second chances.

P.S. I am by no means saying I have mastered this…but it was crispy on the outside and, more importantly, cooked like how we wanted on the inside.

Jewel Allen is the author of sweet romance novels and Rapid Release: How to Write & Publish Fast for Profit. Get a free book here.

I would share pics, but I didn’t have my phone.

We were already on the road to an activity with friends midday when I realized I hadn’t put my phone in my purse. I asked my husband to turn back ‘round but he said we would be late.

No phone for the whole day? With a family party later in the evening? Unthinkable.

And yet there I was, in the car, unable to fix the situation.

In the back seat, my youngest daughter commiserated as she was busy tapping a message on her phone.

I twiddled my thumbs, suddenly turned jobless, and looked out the window. It was a sunny day, though crisp cold, and we passed some wetlands with water so smooth it reflected the snowy mountain range, tinged with blue. Had I even noticed that before as a passenger?

Using my husband’s phone, I messaged my other kids that I had left my phone at home and to please message their dad instead.

I glanced nervously at my husband. We could actually…talk to each other. I’d forgotten how to do this. I asked him questions like we used to in the pre-cell phone days.

After our midday activity, we moved on to grabbing a quick bite to eat. Gasp. No phone to take pics of my JDawg polish sausage smothered with onions, sauerkraut, and their special sauce. And me eating it.

Next stop was setting up for a family Christmas party at 3:00 p.m. I had no way of videoing the flurry of activity. So I busied myself helping set up tables and chairs. Once that was done, I felt a little at a loss as to what to do next.

Everyone else was on their phones, scrolling. I had…nothing to scroll. So I walked around and got some steps in.

A couple of hours, with the party in full swing, I did not take a single photo. Other people did while I zoomed after my cute grandson, visited with family, and mingled over an ice-breaker activity.

And then it was time to come home. Where I found my phone face-down on my bed.

One of my kids had messaged me earlier. “How are you going to entertain yourself all afternoon?”

“Somehow,” I typed back, “I managed.”

Jewel Allen is the author of sweet romance novels and Rapid Release: How to Write & Publish Fast for Profit. Get a free book here.