Hell: The candle aisle at Target. (I am never going to get that stink out of my nose.)
Yank Sing on Spear Street in San Francisco is without a doubt some of the best dim sum I have ever eaten; it is reason alone to turn in your vegan card, brave the traffic, develop a fondness for crowds of enormous families and move here. It is also a grand reason to empty your husband's bank account because you must must must have another steamer basket of the soup dumplings.
Yes, I said soup dumplings. Steamed luminous parcels of liquid goodness that have never seen the inside of a freezer, enrobed in a bit of vinegar and freshly julienned ginger and eaten in two bites out of large Chinese soup spoons. Oh and everything else was quite magnificent as well.
The size and behavior of these dumpling resemble testicles, but otherwise they are heaven.
I have picked up the makings for the Barbara Baughman Memorial Yams, the only family/holiday tradition to be practiced religiously since I moved my crap out of my parent’s house in 1989. Aunt Barbara was my great aunt and the closest thing nearby I had to a grandmother; I loved her madly and still do. Only 4' 10" high, She maintained the same pin curl hairdo from her heyday as a young bride in World War II and was the only person ever to be allowed to call me "Heidi-Ho". She regularly visits my dreams and I have been known to follow after strangers who use White Rain Blue Rinse Shampoo simply because they smell of her.
At any rate: Get the canned Princella yams, a big squague of soft butter, salt (hey! stop using that Morton's shit), and about a cup of dark brown sugar. Nutmeg, if you are a decadent chick.
Heat up a much, much larger pan than you think you need (surface area is the key), medium high should do it.
Melt half the butter then plop about a fourth of the sugar in and let it melt. Shake some salt into it and watch it like a hawk until it is good and liquidy.
Drain yams thoroughly and gently plop into the pan, sprinkle on a bit more sugar and a bit of salt.
DO NOT STIR; swirl the pan to coat everything in the caramel and the carefully flip the yam hunks over to coat all sides and heat the orange hunks of starch through.
Allow to burn, just a weeny bit. Grate a little nutmeg on. Live on in carbohydrate immortality.
Live in CA? Here, scare the hell out of yourself: http://earthquake.usgs.gov/recenteqsww/index.html