Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Tangled

I remember seeing a trailer for Tangled several months ago and not really understanding what the movie was about.  It looked like another animated film that was more silly than anything else, with Rapunzel being redefined in a similar mold as Princess Fiona, the spunky, fights-her-own battles princess from Shrek.  So when Tangled was released recently, I didn't pay it much attention, and since Ebert didn't review it, didn't bother reading any of the reviews of Tangled.  But somehow, the movie overtook HP7 for the top box office spot, got a nearly 90% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, and ew started hearing about its merits by word-of-mouth.  And given that the film is animated, word-of-mouth was all ew really needed to convince her to get me to go see it with her.  So, contrary to what I usually do with movies I want to see, I just went and saw it.  No reviews beforehand, no plot synopsis, not even really aware of the cast members.  And I have to say, Tangled really surprised me.  In a good way.

Tangled really should have been pitched the way The Princess and the Frog was last year.  Maybe Disney was scared to because of the poor reception Princess and the Frog received, but Tangled really represents a return to the animated movies that we grew up with, from Little Mermaid to Beauty and the Beast, to Aladdin, to Lion King.  I'm as much of a Pixar fan as everyone else, but sometimes Pixar seems to be too self-aware, whether it's with pop culture references, moral messages, or a seriousness that animated films didn't have back in the day.  So it is refreshing to see a movie that takes us to a world where princesses fall in love, where ruffians and scoundrels are really soft inside, where magical kingdoms exist and prosper in peace (aside from the one deranged person).  Tangled represented all that made us fall in love with Disney: the path of self discovery in a slow, touching, emotional, and musical process.  It is really a movie that became quite beautiful, and has a scene and song that really rivals Kiss the Girls and Aladdin's magic carpet ride.

Friday, December 10, 2010

A Day in the Life of a PhD

I remember in undergrad, cy briefly dated his Italian TA, and after it ended, he told me to never date a PhD student, because they have no time for you and can be a little crazy.  And now that ew has finally completed her doctorate, I can say that there is some truth to cy’s assertion.  Obviously that didn’t deter me, as ew and I are now married, but there are some very important realities that I learned from dating a PhD student for over 5 years.

Not all doctors are created equal

Typically, we associate higher education with increased earning potential.  Especially when graduate school yields you the title of doctor.  However, this does not apply to PhD students.  In fact, earning a PhD probably has sapped most candidates of their earning potential, since the jobs awaiting a PhD essentially lead to more academic positions that pay very little, or an industry job that pays no more than someone who already has 5+ years of work experience.

Science inevitably must come first at some point

PhD students at some point HAVE to graduate.  They are bound in very low-salary positions to an advisor, lab, and/or collaborators that may drive them bananas.  Since research is actually ground-breaking, things don’t always work.  Projects don’t always go as hypothesized, dead-ends are fairly common, and there’s quite a bit of luck involved with finding a publishable topic.  Because of this, research can drag on for years before an actual dissertation is formed, and once you’re in the middle of research, it’s nearly impossible to start over and switch groups if you do find the work environment untenable.  So at some point, usually after 4 years, PhD candidates tend to think to themselves, “I am wasting away the prime years of my life with no earnings in this god-forsaken lab.  I have to graduate and get out of here.”  And so, science must come first.  A weekend trip is considered a visit to the lab, evenings are dominated by ways to figure out the proper chemistry or experimental design, nights are spent restlessly thinking about how to graduate.

PhDs are conflicted people

The appeal of a PhD is in fact working on things that no one else has done.  Research by nature is intended to make you feel stupid; if you do not feel stupid, then you are probably not doing any interesting work.  So the conundrum is that PhD students are generally smart people who do not like to feel stupid, yet they pursue a field that makes them feel stupid all the time.  Additionally, research does not pay well.  Companies will not fund nascent ideas, so research tends to be funded by governmental entities.  So there is no potential for upside of an IPO or buy out from a company; all intellectually property will be held by universities or national labs.  The only upside exists in the faint possibility of a Nobel Prize or similar name recognition among peers.  But again, PhDs see industry jobs as boring and unexciting, and thus seek a paradigm shift in the way the world treats new ideas.

I think the most important thing I learned about PhD students is that they need support.  Imagine starting a job that promised you the ability to indulge in your true passion in life, only to find out that your true passion is likely impossible to accomplish.  Then imagine that this job demanded you to always be thinking about it, work on the weekends, feel guilty about taking holidays, and barely paid you enough to live each month.  Then imagine that your work environment deteriorated to the point that you dreaded going into work every day, but you could not go search for another job because that would just restart the entire process you committed yourself to for the past few years.  And now imagine doing this as your first job out of school, and five years later, you’re in the same exact position while the rest of your friends you graduated with have moved forward with their lives such that they are working at jobs they either enjoy or at jobs that actually pay them money.  For those of us who did not earn a PhD, we’ll never truly understand the dedication, sacrifice, and effort it takes to graduate.  At work, I complain about making investments in environmental markets that don’t really have a framework.  For ew, she lived in a world that didn’t exist until she built it.  So yes, PhDs may be a little crazy sometimes, and they may not always focus on things outside their immediate world, but they’re essentially put in the worst work situation possible and somehow find their way out of it, usually with a new idea that can spur the advancement of something, no matter how niche or small it may seem.  And so, though ew says it was anticlimactic to condense 5 years of work into one 45 minute presentation, all I can say is that, those 45 minutes are more than I’ve contributed in the past 5 years.  Congrats ew, I couldn’t be more proud.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Nutcracker

This past weekend the gang and I went up to the Bay Area to kind of celebrate my birthday, but mainly to support st in his Nutcracker performance.  The quick birthday blurb is the restaurant that we ended up going to, a Japanese izakaya place called Tanto in Sunnyvale on El Camino, was quite exceptional.  The grilled octopus, the dashi soups, and the crab croquettes were highlights.  The roe pasta was also quite delicious.  But what made it exceptional was the price: definitely great value for the amount of food and alcohol we consumed; the portions were generally larger than I have seen at other izakaya places.

But the main event of the weekend was undoubtedly st's performance.  I hadn't actually seen a ballet performance since high school (which, incidentally was also the Nutcracker), so I wasn't sure what to expect.  Would I fall asleep like I usually do at the symphony?  Or would the visual aspect of the ballet keep me interested?  I did enjoy the ballet in Center Stage, but st repeatedly informed me that the ballet in Nutcracker really isn't anything special.  But would it even matter, considering that st was
performing as the Nutcracker prince?

A little background on st.  Despite his claims of doing tae kwon do, none of us have actually seen him show any sense of athleticism.  He tends to be afraid of the ball in ball sports, and he tends to be very lethargic and sleepy in everyday life.  Not to mention, he is quite afraid of interacting with other people, especially girls, so upon hearing of his casting as the titular character, most of us were quite surprised.  How would an unathletic, somewhat socially awkward, lethargic recluse demonstrate the necessary grace and emotion to connect with Clara and with the audience?

I think that st's willingness to even get this performance opportunity is quite contradictory to his normal character.  He didn't start learning ballet until he went back to Stanfurd for his masters and always maintained that he didn't want to showcase his skills (similar to dk, who still denies the spotlight with his piano playing).  So when he inquired whether to pursue a role in the Nutcracker, actually pursued it, and then actually accepted the titlular role, that showed incredible growth on his part.  And that is what this past weekend was really about.  To be comfortable with our inadequacies, but to try to better them, to try to change.  Maybe st wasn't the most graceful dancer out there, but he showed incredible passion and fluidity in his steps, and in that way, was brilliant in his performance.  It showed a sense of courage to let it all out there for others to see, a sense of vulnerability, and he did connect with the audience because of this, or at least his friends, who may have been skeptical at the begining, but at the end of it, were incredibly proud.  There was an article on Yahoo! Sports where Kobe was describing his mentality toward life, where you can either come out of things better than you are or you can crawl up like a coward into a little ball.  Oftentimes, st does the latter.  To see him do the former was what made the performance special. 

Monday, November 29, 2010

Thanksgiving

I always knew that I would end up writing something about California before I left it.  A list of all the food I would miss.  The city that I grew up in and rediscovered as an adult.  The city where I grew to become an adult.  The jobs I’ve had.  I may still get to all these topics, but as I came into Thanksgiving last week, I realized that leaving is more about the smaller moments.
Late fall in California is likely a bit different than other places in the states.  On the east coast, there are severe temperature drops and the first signs of winter.  But in California, especially in San Diego, we get cold, crisp air, but with a shining sun, which makes for some of the most beautiful days you’ll ever experience.  And as I left work the day before Thanksgiving, I found myself in the midst of one of those days, with Bruno Mars serendipitously coming on the radio in my car, and I realized that this was my last Thanksgiving for the foreseeable future.
For me, Thanksgiving has always been the holiday to look forward to.  My family often traveled around during Christmas time, so my sense of home has been entrenched with those four days in late November.  Since I’ve always been in California, I don’t think I’ve actually ever missed a Thanksgiving with my family.  Growing up, it was the comfort of turkey, mashed potatoes, and yams, a treat for someone who was accustomed to Chinese food every other day of the year.  Sometimes even a honey-baked ham, which could lead to omelets Thanksgiving morning.  In college, it was a time to reconnect with friends who went to different colleges.  Usually it’d be only that time of year to see people, as the longer spring, winter, and summer breaks kept people scattered.
And now, as ew and I begin something new together, Thanksgiving represents what I’ll likely miss the most about California.  That feeling of community, where the slow-pace of beautiful cold fall days reinforces the ties that we have built all our lives, from friends I’ve known since elementary school to family that has only grown since I’ve been with ew.  I know that ew and I will only expand our home, but for now, I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia as one more Thanksgiving has come and gone.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Japan, Part 2

While food was undoubtedly the focus of our days in Japan, we did have several other hours of the day where we had to do something to work up an appetite.   So below is a quick overview of activities that we ended up doing in Tokyo and Kyoto:
Tokyo
Tokyo reminds me very much like Taipei, but with more people.  The city is much larger than you may think, and it is built up of many different neighborhoods and districts.  I suppose I was anticipating something more similar to Hong Kong, but it is not nearly as compact and dense a city.  With that said, it really is much like any other big city.  It has its unique culture, especially with the Akihabara maid cafes and gothic Harajuku girls, but not so much to the caricature that we see here in the Western world.  There may indeed be crazy and weird Japanese people, but it doesn’t seem like it is any more so than in other cultures.  It may just actually be more acceptable in Japan.
There aren’t really many sights in Tokyo to take in, so it really is just shopping, walking around, and eating.  Tsujiki is one of the main draws, but for many Asians who are familiar with seeing seafood markets, it’s nothing that has to be a must-see.  It’s probably larger than any fish market I’ve seen, but the contents are not so different.
Kyoto
Kyoto is very much like an European city: lots of history with the culture and architecture, but at the same time, modern and comfortable.  It is a beautiful city in this respect, as there are old sections of town that keep the traditional Japanese feel, with Japanese gardens and temples that offer peaceful and stunning views.  Kyoto is probably best experienced walking around aimlessly (as it is known as the walking city), particularly in the Higashiyama area.  You can catch glimpses of geishas while strolling the old streets, while also stopping for those super-sweet Kyoto desserts and maybe a cone of green tea ice cream.  Ew and I spent a day just wandering around that area, and actually spent one night in Ryokan Motonago in Southern Higashiyama.  Ryokans are traditional Japanese inns, where rooms are defined by how many tatami mats cover the floor.  The room serves as a place to sit and eat, and then the futon beds are made up for sleeping.  Ew and I had our kaiseki meal here, as we were dressed in our yakutas and had, I believe, thirteen courses brought to our room.  Each course was presented in its own particular lacquerware and arranged on our “eating tray.”  The meal was focused on fish and vegetables, and while ew couldn’t quite handle all of that fish, it was quite the experience.  Combine the feel of the inn with a traditional dinner, followed by a bath onsen-style, and you end up having one of the most memorable evenings in any hotel.
The rest of our time in Kyoto was spend mostly on the outskirts of the city, in Arashiyama and Kurama.  We went to Arashiyama to see the bamboo forest, and while very peaceful and pleasant, I’m not sure if it’s as must-do as Lonely Planet makes it out to be.  The trip out there only takes about half an hour to forty-five minutes though, and there is a very nice garden at the temple next to the bamboo forest.  In Kurama, we made the journey to see the fire festival and to also go to the onsen.  I think if there’s one thing that the Japanese have contributed to this world, it’s the beauty of bathing.  With the minerals in the hot springs, the peaceful gardens and environs of the outdoors, and the wooden stools for the sit-down showers, I can’t think of a better way to relax away an afternoon.  Ew definitely disagrees with me here, as she always claims she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to be doing, but that’s the point, it’s supposed to be a time to do nothing.  However, because it was the day of the fire festival, the onsen was particularly crowded, which did make it much less relaxing.  With respect to the fire festival, I think what I’ve learned is that festivals are pretty much the same wherever you go.  If you’re interested in seeing something culturally from an outsider perspective that you may not truly understand, then they’re worth the effort; otherwise, it’s very similar to watching something like the Disneyland parade.

Japan, Part 1

When ew and I were debating on where to go after the wedding, we looked at two very different places: Japan and Chile.  Both seemed enticing, Japan for its cuisine and modern cities, and Chile for its spectacular scenery.  But the weather wasn’t quite right for a trip to Patagonia in October, and ultimately, Japan was picked out of a hat more times.
We only had a week to work with, so we decided to limit our visit to two places: Tokyo and Kyoto.  I think in general, staying 3-4 days in a city is probably too long, but we didn’t want to be in a rush due to time constraints, and that’s what always seems to happen to us when we try to do everything in a limited timeframe.  It’s also somewhat comforting knowing you don’t have to check in and out of a different hotel every day.  I’ve discovered that with travel, everything seems to sound interesting, so usually decisions must be made on what not to do.
As a caveat, ew and I usually use Lonely Planet guides when we travel.  Lonely Planet tends to do well with developing countries, as information is not readily available on the Internet, and we typically aren’t familiar with the culture of the places we visit.  The maps are usually the most invaluable tool, as well as lodging suggestions.  But in developed countries, I’m not sure the Internet isn’t the best resource.  We did pick up the guide for Japan, but we found most of our lodging online, with several of the places we booked ultimately not in Lonely Planet, and we rarely used the guide for food options.  (Quick tangent here: Lonely Planet food options tend to be the least helpful in my opinion; they are very cognizant of the need for Western palettes, so oftentimes, you may end up in a restaurant that is strictly visited by tourists using the Lonely Planet guide.)  We did use the guide to figure out some of our day to day activities, though the hotels we stayed at were actually very accommodating in providing maps that have popular tourist attractions on them.
With that said, our trip was mostly revolved around food anyway, and sampling the many different types of food that Japan has to offer.  Ew made a bold claim beforehand that she could likely eat Japanese food every day, but after spending a week there, I think she realized how maritime Japan actually is and how much fish is a central part of their diet.  One good thing about Japan is that even though they hardly speak any English, all the menus typically have pictures!  So you can just point and you usually end up receiving what you think you ordered.  The bad part is the cheapest meal will cost you around 700 Yen, and that’s a cheap bowl of ramen.  Unless of course you eat fast food type meals.  Below is a breakdown of the different types of cuisine we sampled:
Ramen
Coming from Chinese culture where noodle soup plays an integral part of our lives, ramen was obviously at the top of the list for ew and me.  This was actually the only thing we ate more than once in Japan, and to confirm what others have said, it is much better in Japan than the states.  I think the most noticeable difference is in the noodle quality.  This was evident in both places we tried, Da Yei in Kyoto and Mutekiya in Ikebukuro in Tokyo.  The other difference is the broth.  I think most ramen broth that is favored in the states is the rich, tonkotsu broth.  This was Mutekiya’s broth, and the Japanese version is actually similar to the version in the states.  But what the states really lack are the simpler broths, like the Shoyu one we had at Da Yei.  Shoyu in the states lacks the same depth of flavor as in Japan, and that’s a shame because who is always in the mood for such a rich tonkotsu broth?
Tempura
The good thing about Japanese cuisine is that restaurants tend to specialize.  There isn’t a whole lot of variety on the menus, as restaurants tend to only serve tempura, soba, ramen, etc.  Ew and I only went to one specialty tempura restaurant (at Seibu department store in Shibuya in Tokyo), but did have tempura as part of some other set meals.  The first noticeable part of tempura in Japan is that you always get the grated daikon for the tempura sauce.  Why can we not do that here?  It adds a nice subtle flavor to the sauce.  The other noticeable part is that you can actually taste what has been battered and fried.  The panko on tempura is very light, and the focus is really on the main ingredient.  It also helps that when they bring the tempura out, the chef himself brings it out to your table and places the tempura directly from his fryer to your plate.
Izakaya
Ew and I went to izakaya the first night we arrived in Tokyo, to a place called Toriyoshi in Ginza that specializes in chicken (the Tori part).  As many of you know, I have a special place in my heart for San Tung chicken wings, but the wings at Toriyoshi may be even better.  It’s a much subtler flavor than the San Tung wings, but still very complex and very delicious.  I also think the ambiance here was delightful.  The taking off of shoes with the tatami mats, the sliding screen doors … it felt very traditional yet modern Japanese.
Kaiseki
One of the most fun and elegant meals I’ve ever had.  This is more about experience than food itself, and I will describe in more detail later on.
Shabu Shabu
From a food perspective, the best meal that ew and I had in Japan (and actually is way up there for one of best meals of my life).  My aunt r happens to live around Tokyo, and she took us to get Shabu Shabu in Shinjuku (will update soon with a name, but it is a local chain I believe with a location at least in Akasaka, though the Shinjuku appears to be the only non-smoking location).  We began the meal with some delicious first courses centered around matsutake mushrooms, followed by sashimi and tempura.  At that point, ew and I were already getting a little full and wondering whether we were actually still doing shabu shabu.  But the shabu shabu finally did come, and I’m not sure anything is better than marbled beef dipped in peanut sauce.  Follow that up with tofu and vegetables in yuzu, ramen noodles, and chestnut ice cream, and I’m not sure if Chinese hot pot can even compare anymore.
Sushi
Japan has a lot of the conveyor belt sushi that we didn’t try, but we did go to the Tsujiki fish market the first morning we were in Tokyo and engaged in a 7 AM sushi breakfast.  While the fish was very fresh and very good, I’m not sure our bodies were accustomed to eating fish that early in the morning.  It basically ruined us for lunch, as we ended up just eating bread on our train from Tokyo to Kyoto.

Bentos

Technically, we ate this meal twice, as we brought one on the plane back to the states, but these are essentially boxed lunch sets that we discovered on the bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto.  After seeing everyone eating one, we vowed to get one for our return trip back to Tokyo.   They aren’t actually very cheap (around 800 to 1,000 Yen), but they come with a variety of fish, vegetables, sometimes meat, and rice, and obviously the biggest draw for ew is that everything is compartmentalized.

Tonkatsu

On a recommendation from ew's cousin, we went to a place called Tonki that specializes in tonkatsu.  Tonki is in Ebisu in Tokyo, and they only serve two things: hire-katsu and rohsu-katsu.  Hire is a lean cut of tenderloin, rohsu is a fattier cut.  It's an open kitchen with essentially bar seating around it, and it is a magical place to have a meal.  Seeing the presumed owner seemingly memorize the order of guests and their order (no need to sign in), and then having probably the best tonkatsu you'll ever have: lightly breaded, not too oily, with the focus on the tenderloin accompanied with some tonkatsu sauce and mustard.  Top that off with finely shredded cabbage that the staff is very willing to refill (as well as the rice and miso soup apparently), and you have that great balance of freshnesss with the cabbage and the meatiness of the fried pork.

If you don’t like it in the U.S., you won’t like it in Japan
Lonely Plant really pumps up certain cuisines that you feel obligated to try.  But I think this may be for people who haven’t tried those cuisines at all, because what I did learn in Japan is, the food is not so different where if you don’t like it in the U.S., you will suddenly like it elsewhere.  (The one exception to this may be soy milk, which somehow tastes unbelievably good in Asia but unbelievably bland in the U.S.)  So with apologies to unagi, yakiniku, and soba, they are pretty much what they are. And after discovering this fact after eating unagi, we opted not to eat okonomiyaki.  A quick word on yakiniku and soba: it’s not so much that we don’t enjoy those cuisines, but with yakiniku, Korean bbq seems like such a better deal, especially since you get the small dishes, and with soba, we’d just rather eat ramen.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Best Weekend Ever

So it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything.  It was a busy month of October, with the wedding and trip to Japan, and then getting resettled back to reality.  I’m not sure where to pick up, so I’ll just go through the past 12 months of planning that ultimately resulted in the best weekend ever.
There are lots of things to worry about for a wedding.  Big details like the venue and vendors.  Little details like escort cards, table settings, schedule.  And there’s the worry of coordinating all these details between the vendors and venue and friends and family helping out.  This is why people say you should pay for a coordinator.  But at the end of the day, I’m not sure if you really need one.  Our venue had a recommended vendor list, and everyone had worked together extensively off this list, so our caterer and DJ really helped coordinate the schedule and events of the day.  They talked to our photographer, the people making toasts, and the venue to make everything flow seamlessly.  There are little details like setting up favors and table settings, but those tasks are generally things family and friends are more than happy to do.  The only spot where a coordinator may have been useful is in the ceremony, but really, once you get someone who can cue the musician, it’s not very necessary.
Food is important.  So many weddings are stereotyped with having bad wedding food.  But if there is good food, I think people are generally happier and it always seems like a big, pleasant surprise.  A lot of venues these days have food prepared on site; our venue let us hire a caterer, which I believe is the way to go, because (1) they specialize in food, and (2) allowing some competition only makes the quality better.
Apparel can be a nightmare.  Not just men’s apparel but female apparel.  For men, apparently Men’s Wearhouse has some form of monopoly on tux rentals.  And despite giving them explicit instructions on what the groomsmen are wearing and taking size measurements, they still manage to screw up.  If we didn’t try on the apparel early, we wouldn’t have had time to get the alterations done.  My jacket and pants would have been too short, cl would have had MC Hammer pants, and ay would have had a shirt two sizes too big for him … wait, ay didn’t have time to get alterations.  And this doesn’t even speak to the nightmare that was the bridesmaid dress.  For females, what is the point of taking measurements, wait six months for the dress, and have to alter it anyway?  This makes absolutely no sense.  Ew was able to find a dress in Hong Kong, alter it to her size, and take it home within 2 days.  I’m pretty sure Hong Kong is not any more developed than the U.S.  And back to the bridesmaid dress, never, I repeat, never order from Bari Jay.  Not only did their dresses come in the wrong size, they claimed no responsibility and when ew complained to the BBB, they actually tried to fight ew on that claim.
Sometimes you have to let things go.  Nothing will happen exactly the way you imagine it will.  People always say that, and you kind of half-heartedly acknowledge it, but this is a truth that everyone should come to grips with.  Is one caterer worth 2x more than the other one?  Does the photographer really need to come an hour and a half out of the way to capture certain shots for half an hour?  Do all Chinese traditions need to be followed exactly?  The groomsmen boutonnieres may be the wrong color.  The bustle may not be high enough for the dance.  Shoes for the other dress may have been forgotten.  Table arrangements may look different from when you picture it on a piece of paper.  Photographs may not have captured every single aspect of the wedding.  I’ll admit, it’s hard letting everything go.  Everyone has a vision for what they want and this day only happens once.  But when I think about the day, my best memories don’t come from these little details.  All of that eventually becomes a blur.  What I remember is the emotional warmth of the day, from celebrating a truly momentous occasion with people who are there to support you.
Family and friends are the most important part of a wedding.  Ew and I had talked about how we didn’t want to deal with the stress of planning a wedding, from managing our vendors to appeasing our parents’ requests.  We talked about how eloping actually seemed like a fairly nice option; and after hearing the perspectives of many others, eloping did seem like a good choice.  But if I did it all over again, I don’t think the wedding would have been the best weekend ever without family and friends.  Ew and I are fairly private in our relationship.  We don’t really have public displays of affection; we don’t call each other pet names in public.  Eloping seems like it might have fit our personalities better.  We don’t like being the center of attention (at least ew doesn’t).  But ew’s cousin told us, “this isn’t a show, everyone’s here to support you,” and that’s what you have to realize.  All the attempts at appeasing everyone, of making sure the food and music are good, that guests are comfortable … all those people ultimately don’t care as much about that stuff as they do about being a part of the wedding celebration (at least if they are true family and friends).  And that’s what makes a wedding a wedding, from the help of liz’s family, to the ceremony performed by my sister, to the skit from the groomsmen, to the attention to detail by the bridesmaids, to the joyous smiles of family and friends seeing people dear to them get married.  And that’s how a private couple ends up being the center of a circle while Bruno Mars’s “Just the Way You Are” plays with everyone singing and holding each other, cherishing our bonds of friendship and love.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Facial

Over the weekend, I went and got the first facial of my life.  Ew had been prompting me for years to get one, considering my face is prone to blackheads and breakouts, but I had always been a bit hesitant about actually taking the plunge.  I had already acquiesced in our relationship by beginning a facial routine that went way above and beyond anything I did before I met ew, one which includes not just a cleanser, but a day moistuirizer, night moisturizer, occasional extraction, and occasional exfoliation.  Yes, I am a man.  But these are the things you learn in a relationship, and to be honest, once you overcome the stigma of what it means to be masculine and manly, it's actually good practice for anyone, regardless of gender.  So I finally gave in to a facial mainly because of the impending nuptials, and I wanted to at least try to do something to prevent a potential breakout.

I didn't really know what to expect, and at first I felt very unsure of myself, from what I was supposed to do, what kind of facial to get, and obviously, of putting my skin under the microscope.  It was especially awkward when I first entered the room and the person told me that I can put my clothes in the basket.  I'm just getting a facial aren't I?  Do I really need to take off anything?  But I think it goes with the whole spa feel, so in the end I didn't quite take off everything, but I did get comfortable under the covers.  And then, it's actually not that bad.  There's some cleansing of the face, steaming, extraction, and then a mask and some massage.  The massage feels a bit out of place because if I wanted a massage, I would have gone to get one, but the extraction actually helped bring everything out, and the mask really helped smooth my face.  There is definitely pain involved in extraction, and my face has been a peeling mess ever since, but in the end, I can understand why people enjoy these.  The skin does feel like a new layer is coming in, as if I just shed the imperfect skin much the way a snake does.  So ew was right again with regards to my skin ... it just takes me baby steps to get to where she already knows I will end up.   

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Meatless Monday?

I was up in the Bay Area on Monday and had a chance to stop by Google to visit st a little after lunchtime.  I had visited st once before at Google, but had already eaten that time, so all I was able to do was nibble on a few things here and there.  I do remember that the watermelon agua fresca was quite refreshing.  So in effect, this past visit was my first chance to experience the Google cuisine, and I was fairly excited after hearing all the raves about it.

Imagine the disappointment I felt when I showed up and it was revealed to me that Google was still in the midst of what they call Meatless Monday.  Since I arrived fairly close to cafe closing, we didn't have enough time to make it to another cafe that actually served meat.  So I was left with some green beans, beets, summer squash, fruit, and "meatless" salmon and shrimp.  A fairly unexciting menu for me to sample, particularly since the vegetables weren't really prepared in any mind-blowing fashion.  I did partake in some vegan desserts though, and followed up my unsatisfying meal with a grab&go sushi roll of smoked salmon and crab (though mostly rice).  There was a nice seaweed salad with the sushi roll though.

I think Meatless Monday is a bit misguided, because it takes the balance out of one's diet, when the goal is to give people a more balanced diet.  Protein is an important component of the food pyramid, and the buttery shrimp didn't really feel any healthier than say, a chicken breast or pork loin (particularly if you factor in the cholestrol).  But I think the biggest travesty of Meatless Monday is that the vegetables aren't even showcased.  If you're going to force thousands of people to give up meat for a day, then at least show them that there are viable, tasty options aside from beef, chicken, or pork.  Don't serve blandly prepared vegetables.  Maybe it's a function of the role vegetables have in the U.S., where salads dominate (which means a salad is only as good as your oily, unhealthy dressing) and cooked vegetables aren't really given their proper due.  But if you go to Asia, you see an amazing display of different types of vegetables that are cooked in so many varieties, that eating vegetables for a meal actually isn't so bad.  I even believe that st will eat a majority of Chinese vegetables, though he claims to be a carnivore.

I think oftentimes we get caught up in the extremes of things.  Yes, eating too much meat is not good for the body.  But no, cutting out meat or meat products entirely is not necessarily healthy either (not to mention not very convenient).  Life is about maintaining a balance between everything, and I think we need to strive for better ways to showcase that there are great attributes to both sides of everything.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Nobu

Ew and I met up with ac and the other dk this past Monday at Nobu for SD Restaurant Week.  For those of you unfamiliar, Restaurant Week is a chance for local restaurants to offer 3-course prix fixe menus for $30-$40.  Usually, restaurants give you 3 to 4 options for each course. 

I've always heard mixed things about Restaurant Week.  Many people don't think that the food served during Restaurant Week is very good, because chefs are paring down their menus to accomodate the price.  Or the menu selections off Restaurant Week aren't very imaginative since it is your typical selection of tartares, sea bass, short ribs, etc.  Others are more in favor of it, because it allows them to have the fine dining experience without having to spend exorbitant amounts of money.  And after dining at Nobu, I think I have to agree with both sides.

The first course at Nobu was a choice of unagi, seared salmon, and mixed seafood ceviche.  After ew's and my horrible ceviche experience in Lima, we opted for the salmon and unagi.  Both were competent dishes, but the "mashed potatoes" that the chef claimed were so essential to the unagi, did not add to the dish at all.  And the unagi itself was a little too sweet for my taste.  The salmon was pretty much a salmon sashimi in a yuzu type sauce.

There was a "side" course of sushi rolls before the second course, which were your standard salmon avocado roll and a more interesting yellowtail jalepeno roll.  The jalepeno definitely was a nice touch to the roll, but I felt like it completely overpowered the yellowtail.

The second course was a choice of artic char, short ribs, or scallops.  I personally had the char, which was well prepared, but nothing really stood out from the dish.  I enjoyed how the skin was crispy, but it was a large piece of fish that seemed unelegantly done.  The scallops were well-cooked as well, but the basil slaw that accompanied it didn't seem to pair with the dish very well.  The short ribs were just that: slow-cooked short ribs with a heavy, sweet, tangy sauce that they claimed had to go with the cherries on the bottom, which once again, did not seem to add very much.

The third course was a choice of a "whiskey shot," something similar to a tiramisu: layers of cream with some crumble with whiskey infused inside, a green tea chiffon cake, and one other item that no one got.  The heaviness and richness of the cream made it tough to finish the whole thing, despite the initial rave reviews.  The chiffon cake came with a blood orange sorbet, which was light and fresh, but did not seem to pair with the somewhat bland cake.

All in all, I think this experience really brought home those mixed reviews of Restaurant Week I described earlier.  I don't think this was Nobu's best menu.  The proteins in the main courses weren't anything that lent to really inspired dishes.  The appetizers were also very safe, off-the-shelf sushi/sashimi dishes.  I've heard great things about other parts of their menu, such as the miso black cod, so I'd like to believe that the menu offered to us probably wasn't the best foot forward.  With that said though, I do think the preparation of the food is representative of the restaurant.  Everything was well cooked.  My fish wasn't dry, the short ribs were tender, the scallops well prepared.  But the sauces were a bit overdone; in a way, they were "Americanized" from the clean, light flavors I was expecting from haute Japanese cuisine.  And it does upset me a little bit that the menu wasn't more inspired.  It goes back to an earlier post of mine where I talk about how chefs in Paris are turning away the Michelin star in favor of more personalized, high-end yet casual and affordable food.  I think Nobu is probably the furthest away from this, in the sense that eating at Nobu definitely has that cachet of premium quality.  Was it a good meal for $40 + tip and tax?  Yes.  Could it have been better?  Undoubtedly.  Would it have been worth the normal Nobu prices?  Definitely not.  So that's the mixed bag:  Restaurant Week doesn't let you really experience the truly inspired dishes from a restaurant, but at the same time, those truly inspired dishes probably aren't worth the price, so at $40/person, it's definitely a great experience to go to a nice restaurant with decent food and spend an evening with friends.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

The Boat

After breaking the news to my parents over dinner this evening, I can't help but feel the guilt that Nam Le captured so well in his first short story of The Boat.  The circumstances of that protaganist and myself are completely different, but what I think Nam Le is able to portray so vividly are the feelings and emotions that go through an immigrant's child.  The feelings of resentment, entitlement, misunderstanding, and as the title of the story indicates: love and honour and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice.

As is the case with many baby boomers, the generation before me had to work really hard to get to where they are today.  And I think this is especially true of immigrants, who really had to struggle to adapt to a new language, a new culture, and prove that they could be a citizen of the U.S.  People like my parents, who came to the U.S. because there were no real growth opportunities in their country, and who both had to work, oftentimes night shifts, in order to support a family of four.  And I think as a child of an immigrant who has succeeded here, I have often forgotten these facts.  To the pride and compassion and sacrifice my parents demonstrated to get to where they are.  It's sad that I sometimes do feel pity for immigrant parents, who seem to only care about success measured in whether their children are doctors, lawyers, bankers.  It's sad because this is what they sacrificed for.  This is what love and honour mean.  And upon realizing this, that's when you feel guilt.

I dont' really read too many short stories, but I do enjoy them over the novel occasionally because you can pick it up and leave it for good periods of time (at least if you finish a story).  And I think I gravitate toward immigrant writers like Nam Le and Jhumpa Lahiri because they do get to the heart of what it feels like to be the new generation in a land that your parents will never be part of.  The feelings of alienation, of uncertainty with oneself if not following the "traditional" path, but also the perspective that we should all keep in mind when we struggle with our own selfish endeavors.

Monday, September 13, 2010

It's Premium Tequila

I somehow managed to board my flight and return home last night from an exhausting, but great whirlwind of a weekend in Cabo San Lucas. The fantasy bball crew and I wanted to celebrate my impending nuptials with ew, and after throwing around the typical spots, some more sophisticated haunts, and crazy international locales, we settled on a mix of all three in Cabo.

Not knowing much about Cabo, we pretty much embraced the idea that MTV's The Grind presented back in our junior high days: a place where young, attractive women go looking to have fun, much like Vegas, but without all pressures that come with Vegas's glitz and glamour. Plus, there's a wider range of day activities that don't make you lose all your money (for nothing).

So what was Cabo really like? I think maybe the best way to address this it to go through it piece by piece.

Worst Of

People

So let's just say we were probably a bit naive to expect Spring Break action in September. In fact, one of our taxi drivers said that September is probably their slowest month ... and it showed wherever we went. Our pool resembled more of a male Turkish bath than anything you'd see on TV. All the clubs/bars seemed to have guys outnumber the girls, and there seemed to be more local Mexicans than tourists. This led to places like Squid Roe and Cabo Wabo being pretty sparsely populated, and with the people there, it was usually dominated by Mexican males or groups of people that were older than we were expecting. Given this population, suffice it to say that a group of Asian men weren't the most popular group around, making it a bit tough to get things going.

Premium Tequila

So again, this is probably our fault for being naive, but we asked one of our taxi drivers to recommend a place to eat. And wouldn't you know it, we end up in a huge tourist trap, as he takes us to a restaurant that immediately forces us to enter, tries to act friendly with us, gouges us on the bill, and then feigns ignorance about the whole scam. The only explanation for the entire price gouging, including $40 for a pitcher of margarita? "It's premium tequila, bro." Stay away from that seafood restaurant behind the National rental car place near downtown Cabo San Lucas.

Tourism

Cabo's biggest industry is tourism, and it shows in everything they do there. You don't get the local Mexican rates for anything, everything seems a little bit like a scam, and it's hard to understand if there is really any value to be found. It's like that feeling you get when you follow a Lonely Planet guidebook in a developing country and find that every recommendation is populated only by foreigners.

Best Of

Beaches

When you begin to descend to the Cabo airport, you can't help but wonder if you went to the right place. In fact, you may wonder if you were actually in some place like Tijuana or Mexicali. I don't think any water is in sight from the airport, only desert and rolling hills of more desert. But as you make your way down the 1, you begin to see the city take shape, with its gorgeous haciendas dotted along the coastline, all the way to the famous arch that Cabo San Lucas is known for.

The beach itself was sparsely populated, probably because of the strong rip currents and waves, but for the moments when the waves didn't send you crashing to the floor, the water was warm enough to enjoy and the movement fun to dive around in for a short time. But the real treat of the beach is lying in that sand, whether it's from playing a game of tackle football or staring at a sky full of stars while having a heart-to-heart. It's soft and inviting, and you can imagine falling asleep on it.

Taxis

Whenever the group of us guys go to Vegas, we inevitably end up splitting up the group to take cabs somewhere. So much to our surprise, Cabo taxis include vans that can seat up to 12 people. I'm not sure why Vegas doesn't follow suit with this, because I guarantee most groups in Vegas are more than 4 people, and it's always more fun sticking together.

People

So among the masses of people who had no interest in Asian men, we found pockets of fun from some unpretentious, easygoing, and really nice groups. Ay asked me why girls find the need to act cold when you just want to start a conversation; upon reflection, I don't really know why either. Why go to a club or bar if you're not at least interested in talking to someone beyond who you went with? But thanks to d (or is it p) and her friends at Squid Roe, and the Chicago girls at Cabo Wabo, we had enough female interaction where the trip didn’t feel so, what’s the best way to put it, “manly.”

But it wasn’t just the girls that helped make the nights fun. Despite my earlier criticisms of the large number of Mexican males present, I found that they are actually pretty nice and generous, whether it is encouraging you to dance with their girls, or giving you advice on where to call a cab.

Tacos

Growing up in San Diego, I'm a bit of a sucker for tacos. So even though the tacos I had in Cabo weren’t particularly mind-blowing, I have to mention how they just do it right in Mexico: simple tacos that aren’t filled with lettuce, cheese, or any other topping; just meat on a tortilla, with fresh pico de gallo and some salsa on top. Add guacamole if you like as well. If the meat is halfway decent, then a fresh taco off the grill is delicious.

So What Does It All Mean?

I remember my sister said that Puerto Rico is basically the U.S. in Spanish. Cabo is pretty much the same, except if you went somewhere that only had people living there to serve the tourists. So it’s a bit of an odd destination with much less character than most of my usual travel destinations (though maybe similar to a lot of beach travel destinations), but it’s a pleasant place that with the right people, can be pretty spectacular.  Next time I go: VIPS and Mi Casa.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

No Reservations

A lot of people swear by this show.  Probably because it showcases things everyone likes: good food and interesting locales.  And Tony Bourdain can be pretty funny sometimes.  But for me, the show is somewhat hit or miss, particularly with his most recent seasons.  It just seems like he's been playing it safe, going to places he went to on his book tour, staying close to NYC; and even his travels to more exotic locales seem a bit off.  Rome seemed overdone, Harbin and Liberia both felt a bit disconnected.  I don't watch the show religiously though, so maybe I've missed some really great episodes, but for the most part, it doesn't seem like he's been really getting into the food culture of these places.

But last night's trip, a celebration of their 100th episode reminded me why I even watch the show.  I actually only watched half the episode before I went to sleep, so maybe the second half was terrible, but the first half is exactly what I think most travel food shows should try to emulate.  I think too often in most travel/food shows, the showcase is really just the sampling of different foods or a different cultural activity.  No Reservations is definitely victim to this.  It's rare that shows really explore what food actually means to the people in the region, and to challenge the evolution of food's role in society.  Maybe last night's Paris trip was different because Eric Ripert accompanied (and who doesn't love Eric Ripert), which set the stage for a highly decorated French chef going back to his roots and discovering a changing food culture.  Whatever the reason, I thoroughly enjoyed the dialogue and debate about what a good restaurant and what a good food experience really means to people in Paris. 

Apparently French cuisine is morphing from its classical fine dining stereotype to more casual, comfort food.  And one of the most interesting debates from the episode revolved around Eric defending his Michelin stars, defending essentially what makes him such a respected chef around the world.  But I think at the end of the day, even Eric acknowledges the changing shift in food in Paris (and what is occuring a lot in the U.S. today too), where fine dining doesn't mean it has to be a Le Bernardin type experience.  It can be created by a chef who only makes one prix fixe meal a day, for one seating, for 25-30 Euros.  Joel Robuchon explained it when he talked about how the market is actually better now than in the past (despite claims otherwise), because it is so much easier to get fresh ingredients.  Michelin-starred restaurants were the ones who could get those ingredients before; in this day and age, everyone has access to great ingredients.  And I think this is why French people are finding a liking to more affordable, casual dining. 

This isn't to say that I agree or disagree with what the episode examines.  But I do believe that people place too much emphasis on the Michelin rating.  Eric Ripert himself even said that the guide was really just to help promote tourism in a country, so that people know what is good and what isn't.  And what has happened is that such a premium is placed on those 1-3 stars, and while the restaurants are undoubtedly good, there is great food that can be had at better values.  And there are chefs who don't believe that you need 5 waiters to 1 person to get the ultimate dining experience.  That it can happen in an atmosphere similar to someone's kitchen.  So much of the Michelin star is branding, similar to the way Whole Foods and Organic are brands.  I think people need to start finding their way beyond these labels, and it was just eye-opening for me to hear it come from such well-respected chefs who really made their name and money off these labels.

I think that one of my biggest problems culturally with the U.S. is how we eat.  In the Paris episode, they go to a butcher who does his own charcuterie; they go to restaurants who go next door to get the cheese plate, to get the fresh fish.  In Asia it is the same.  I think I read in some travel magazine that fish in the U.S. could be served a week old in a 3-Michelin starred restaurant, but in China, if it's more than a day old, they'd throw you out of the room.  There was another article in the NYTimes that talked about the ratio of processed food eaten by each country versus fresh food, and the U.S. is by far one of the worst countries.  And this is incredible to me because we are such a wealthy and developed country.  Where are our cheese makers?  Our butchers?  Our bread makers?  Where is the dedication to a craft that is so important in our lives?  Maybe it's because we don't value food in this country.  And what hurts us is that where there is good, local food, there's the branding issue of Organic, Whole Foods, Free-Range, etc.  It's associated as a premium product, and it is priced accordingly.  People take this slow food movement very seriously, too seriously in fact, because it ends up being one of those things that people get snobbish about.  No, Whole Foods does not always have the best produce or best meats.  No, Organic doesn't always mean that it's higher quality.  But people try to do this because they don't know how to emphasize the need to bring in local products and fresh ingredients.

The U.S. is seeing the same shift that No Reservations highlighted in Paris, but I feel like it's being done in such a different way because our food culture here is so different.  What's funny is that in Paris, it sounds like it's being done in an unpretentious manner, by people who just really care about food, whereas here, it's this new thing that people can be snobbish about and charge a premium for.  I think maybe if more chefs tried to make their top restaurants more accessible, to turn away the greed and fame of a Michelin star (as it seems they are doing in Paris), maybe that's where it can start.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Henry Sugar

I'm not sure why, but I always think of this story whenever stress mounts.  I actually didn't even remember the name of the story until I just looked it up so I could title this post; in my mind, it's just been that Roald Dahl story I read when I was younger, the story that was part of a collection of stories.  Apparently it's not even a children's story, but one of his adult stories.

But as ew and I struggle to figure things out, inevitably we lie awake at night with a million things going on in our heads.  I read an article somewhere, I think in NYTimes, that talks about how we don't let our minds rest anymore and process information, how every waking second is really stimulated from technology, especially with these mobile devices that allow us to stay connected.  And I think to some extent, maybe our minds do suffer from information overload.  I spend all day at the office in front of a computer, processing information, or just surfing the web, then come home and use the computer some more, checking more internets.  Ew loves her share of celebrity gossip, me sports and movies.  Sometimes it's hard to slow the brain down until it's time to sleep, and once we're off the stimulation, we begin processing and get overwhelmed.  It's hard to sleep like that.

So that's when I always recall the story of Henry Sugar, a guy who somehow could clear his head of all thoughts, which then allowed him to have some psychic abilities, which allowed him to clean up at casinos.  I remember reading the story as a child and trying my hardest to clear my head so I could predict which cards would come out of the deck.  I was never able to, but I think the story stuck with me because as I've grown older, I've begun to understand the importance of some type of meditation, to get away from everything.  And now it helps me think about nothing, to just hear my breathing.  It doesn't always work, but I try, because maybe at the end of the day, I'll be able to garner a higher state of being and maybe I will harness psychic abilities, or maybe I'll just be able to get a good night's rest.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Boxer Rebellion

So dk and I went to see Going the Distance last night.  Weird given that we were probably the only two guys in there who weren't on a date, and that we were two guys sitting together in that movie ... but after going through a lot of talks and fights with ew about what to do next, it was pretty reaffirming for me and put me in better spirits.  Not sure why, but it really brought home that all the uncertainty going on in our lives right now is worth it, because we have each other.  And yes, nothing about this is easy; in relationships, people can't be selfish and stubborn, nor do they want to be if they truly care for another.  Maybe it was just seeing it in someone else's (fictional) life that really cleared my head.

But in the movie, a pretty good band is featured, and since it looks like that movie made only $6.8MM this past weekend, I figured I'd try to give it some more publicity (to my nonexistent readers).  They kind of remind me of a mellower Augustana, with some Sigur Ros elements mixed in (though not really).  It's pretty mellow, and apparently they don't sell their CDs at any retail stores (at least that I could find in San Diego), so they're pretty much an internet sensation, or nonsensation as it is.  But check them out:

www.myspace.com/theboxerrebellion

Never Let Me Go The Distance

I think the title of this blog really speaks to what a lot of us mid-twenty-somethings begin to face, as we've been working for a while, or are beginning a career after arduous schooling, or are realizing that we're not fresh-out-of-college anymore.  We're at a point where we feel compelled to do something impactful in this world, or to at least try to be productive, despite our desires to not.  There was an article in the NYTimes recently that talked about the twentys as a new stage in development, but maybe this new stage of uncertainty and dissatisfaction is really bred from the era we were born from, from baby boomers who wanted to do everything for their children, and in turn, gave us a sense of false security and entitlement.  And maybe when we find out that the world is not the oyster we imagined it to be, we are disappointed.  Disappointed that things don't just come easily and work themselves out, but that we have to work them out.  That we won't all be able to make a real impact the way we wanted to, but we have to find a way to still do something that makes us feel as though we're doing something meaningful.

There's a passage in Never Let Me Go that evokes the sentiment that we're left behind in a changing world, that we're fighting for our hopes and dreams, asking the world never to let us go.  Maybe the only way to do that is to try to go the distance.