Back to work!

Has it really been one week short of a month since my last post?! Which means I haven't cooked in nearly a month - not for lack of trying, but it turns out working then tutoring and finally getting in around 8 is so freaking exhausting. I'll never know how mom did it and then made sure we were fed and our homework done. Sheesh.

I love my new job in that it is a challenge every single day. I do, however, find some days to be far more rewarding than others. I've just had two days of feeling that I can't quite get anything right, but then I've never been a copywriter before. Learning curve and all.

I came on here to say, that even though I'm right, I can't help but feel like a jerk when I explain English:

Colleague: two questions: an historical or a historical? i believe - an ME: a historical; an honest, but a historical Colleague: ok Colleague: and, "As a result the Quo team recommend the following name" or "As a result the Quo team recommends the following name" ME: recommends Colleague: what value does the s add in this context? ME: team is singular though comprised of many, requiring an s; he goes, they go. she recommends, they recommend

Nevertheless, being right really does instil a BAMF attitude. And I love being right.

Heading off to Bangkok tomorrow night for only the second time since I've been in Asia which feels a bit wrong. Our friend Tom just moved there to be closer to his Thai girlfriend (both of whom once lived here). And I've got a meeting on Monday. It's very exciting to go to another country for work. JP never would have sent me anywhere, not even to the printer.

Adventures in Cooking: Spaghetti Bolognese

As some of you may or may not know, I'm not the impossible vegetarian I once was. Outside of the hormones, additives, and fillers of the American food system, I've discovered that I actually quite like beef. That, and it's terribly unsociable to be a full-on vegetarian here, though I still don't eat pork even if it is considered a vegetable in Vietnam.

When I said, Let me cook you dinner on Thursday, what would you like?, I was caught off guard when it wasn't a soup. Spaghetti bolognese, a good, homemade spaghetti bolognese. Only spaghetti, none of those weird other pastas. Imagine my broken heart at missing my beloved penne. Please note, I've since discovered that a heartier pasta is in fact better for this dish, I would have been right to use penne over spaghetti, but it still turned out deliciously.

Searching for recipes, as mom never cooked this either, raising us heavily vegetarian, I didn't come across anything that would take less than three hours. How's a girl that spreads her day with tasks spread throughout supposed to allot 3+ hours to cooking PASTA?! I sucked it up, realising plenty of women in the world with full-time jobs and little mouths to feed do this all the time, when all I had to do was an hour of freelance work, two hours of tutoring and 30 minutes of reading at the news station.

Finishing my freelance work, I dragged myself to the market and fresh meat stall. This is arguably the cheapest dish I've made yet. The most fun and equally disconcerting shopping portion was explaining to the "butcher" that I wanted ground beef. I looked up the Vietnamese phrase and I'm still not sure she gave me the right amount. I wanted to take a photo of her chopping it up as she didn't actually have a grinder and had to cut it over and over again until it resembled ground meat, but didn't in the end because I'm never sure about those sorts of social cues. One might argue that her way of cutting it is actually healthier than truly ground meat and I would agree (knowing absolutely nothing about what I'm talking about).

Around 11:30 I dove into the washing, peeling, cutting, pouring, and simmering of it all. The recipe called for milk, which I only used half of what it suggested, as well as white wine, but we only had left over red from Valentine's Day, which also seems to have worked just fine. I added some Italian seasoning with extra oregano as well as a fresh chili, even though no true Italian would ever actually do this according to the internets. This chili would come back to haunt us as it wasn't the smallest of the pack and only gets spicier as days go by. Also, I have a stronger tolerance for spice than Dan does.

Having only simmered for two and a half of the four hours, I really have to head out to the news station. So I do, leaving it turned off on the stove. I rush back, taste it again to see how the chili's doing along with my added Italian spice and I realise I'm going to be chastised for not adding enough salt, yet another thing we didn't really have much of growing up and so I don't especially miss it when it's gone. Adding a bit more, I let it simmer for another hour before heading out to tutor.

I come home to find it well taste tested and a very hungry mister You could have put the pasta on yourself, you know? I chided. Only then remembering how bloody long it actually takes for pasta to cook - a watched pot truly never boils.

Not quite as beefy as a true meat-eater might like, it was still quite hearty with minced carrot, onion, and celery. Over the next few days it ripened even more (as well as got spicier) and quickly disappeared from the fridge. This is the first dish I've made that I think I'll repeat. Unfortunately the recipe for this is locked away on my kindle... which turns out to be a very handy kitchen tool!

Birthdays and other such things

Another year come and gone. I can't believe it's been a year since celebrating my last birthday, more since we were in the Philippines, and all of the crazy things that happened in between. Another birthday means it's officially been three years since I left the US of A. I miss it sometimes - food especially, hence my cooking kick, I imagine - but I'm still so happy to have done this with my life. When I first got here, I didn't plan on turning 30 here, but only 364 more days to go.

Friday was tame, celebrating my old roommate's, who shares my birthday, time with a fancy dinner at Trois Gourmaund, which may well be spelled wrong and frankly I just don't care. The food, all in all, was rather delicious, but we have all since agreed that I will die if I ever go to France for a long period of time. Palate cleanser (egg and truffle ice cream/sorbet), pre-appetiser dish (warm egg and truffle souffle), palate cleanser (weird flavour I can't remember), appetiser (salmon tartar with cheese), palate cleanser (tomato and basil ice cream/sorbet), main course (steak with vegetable quiche), (very stinky) cheese platter, and dessert (peach something or other which was my favourite of it all). So much food, so many WEIRD foods, I will not go back and France and I won't be meeting for a while longer.

Saturday our favourite outdoor park/bar had a melting pot of music, food, clothing, art, and knickknacks - always a time well spent. This bit of day drinking hurriedly came to a close when Dan said, We have to go, and you have to change. Knowing my birthday was just the next day, I was sure he had something up his sleeve, but couldn't be sure what. Our evening panned out as a seven bar venture set over seven hours in golf gear. It was great fun full of pars and mini challenges in the walk to the next location. In the end, only four of us were left standing until three or so in the morning, but I had a great time and well appreciate Dan's effort and everyone coming out to help celebrate.

Originally I was going to plan the same thing for myself, but the idea of putting it all together after having just planned Dan's birthday, I simply decided to have champagne brunch at the InterContinental. Two handfuls of us made out for this lovely and gaining in expense treat. I certainly had my fill of champagne and learned that 29 is in fact NOT remotely the same as 25, woof. All in all, despite minor hiccups, it was a birthday well celebrated

The best news of all and most celebrated bit: I got a job! I'm the new copywriter for branding agency QUO, based in Bangkok with a satellite office in HCMC. The first two months are probationary, as is the norm here, but if all goes well it'll be full time with bennies and the works. Whoop. I start on March 3. And now, I am celebrated out. Happy days.

Update: Check out my cool new painting, courtesy of the mister. Audrey: great. Breakfast at Tiffany's: great. Painting: new fave.

Adventures in Cooking: Chicken and Broccoli

This was practically a staple in our house growing up, brother bear would order it every time without fail from the two Chinese restaurants in town. Unfortunately and perhaps a bit naively, I never considered how different Chinese food would be from CHINA and the US. The US has a bastardised version of classic Chinese dishes, which when I'm being honest, I'm not mad about. It turns out I much prefer American Chinese food to China Chinese food.

Much like G-town, there are only two American Chinese restaurants in HCMC, the chicken always leaves me wondering if I'm going to be sick the next day, the chow mein is far too greasy, and the crab rangoon is either non-existent or lacking in all that I'm used to. So, I took it upon myself to try out a homemade chicken and broccoli.

I think I first went wrong buying frozen chicken breasts. The nice thing about them was that I didn't have to cook the meal on the day I went shopping. The less nice thing was that the meat, once cooked, ended up being a bit tough and very dry. Lesson learned: buy fresh from the hawkers on the street. The LAST time I tried that, though, I failed to communicate boneless, skinless, so you might imagine how tears nearly formed in my eyes upon the mess that is an entire chicken breast. So many lessons learned in the kitchen.

In the end, the sauce was delicious, despite the overcooked chicken. The broccoli was fresh and crispy, which translated very well the next day once reheated. The recipe calls for ginger, which I've decided I can absolutely live without, at least when I'm cooking at home. There's a street food stall in the centre of town that makes the most delicious ginger chicken, maybe I'll ask them to teach me some day, HA!

I'd love to post the recipe and step by step, but I've concluded that I don't really LIKE blogger anymore because it spaces everything so badly. So instead, check out this handy little link: Chicken and Broccoli Stir Fry (shockingly, mine wasn't too far off from the photo).

There's no fun being your own taste tester, so I had the girls over for a spot of wine and this dish. Just before they arrived, I realised I'd made no appetisers, which I felt was a massive faux pas for my mini dinner party trio. I attempted Chinese scallion pancakes, which weren't bad, but were a bitch to get off of my hands during the batter making process. Furthermore, the leftovers of which were not worth saving.

Adventures in Cooking: Pea Soup

I don't think I've ever had pea soup in my life. I always thought mom didn't make it because she'd seen the movie with the possessed girl too early and simply couldn't eat it - who would blame her? Recent conversations lead me to believe it was because most pea soups are chock full of ham.

I found a recipe that wasn't and cooked it as requested. It took FAR less time than the tomato soup, no chopping or peeling outside of carrots required, but I don't think I'll be making it again anytime soon. It was too thick and filling, you wouldn't even need a whole bowl to feel that you've had enough food for the day. Though the taste was good, I'm putting the rest is in the freezer for Dan to consume as it was his idea in the first place.

Next up: chicken and broccoli.

Devil herb

If something came along and destroyed the world's supply of coriander/cilantro, we might be one step closer to world peace.

Happenstance.

Lookie what I found!

Adventures in cooking: Tomato Soup

Hey Ya'll!

It's been a REALLY long time since I last posted. I guess life got so day-to-day that it stopped seeming interesting. I'm still looking for a full-time job, but making a fair enough amount of money that I'm still not too fussed about it.

I've recently taken up cooking and it's been quite an adventure. I haven't bothered to attempt any Vietnamese dishes, maybe one day. In the meantime, I've tried variations of chicken dishes, eggs, and most recently potatoes. I'm going to make an effort to cook at least once a week and then post my (mis)adventures, so stay tuned!

Today I attempted, and was rather successful if I say so myself, Creamy Tomato Soup. Find the recipe below (particularly as all of my cooking skill is based on well-written recipes).

Ingredients: Servings: 6-8

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

1 tablespoon minced garlic

2 tablespoons flour

3 1/2 lbs ripe roma tomatoes, chopped

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 teaspoon sugar

3 cups fresh vegetable broth

1/8 teaspoon ground cloves (I didn't use this but it was called for)

salt and pepper, to taste

1/2 cup half-and-half (impossible to find in Vietnam, so I had to make it myself with milk and butter)

Directions:

1 Melt the butter with the oil over low heat in a pot.

2 Add the onion; wilt over low heat for 8 to 10 minutes.

3 Add the garlic during the last 2 minutes, stirring.

4 Sprinkle with flour and cook 3 minutes longer, stirring.

5 Add the tomatoes, tomato paste, sugar, and broth.

6 Bring to a boil, reduce heat to a simmer and cover; cook over medium-low heat for 30 minutes.

7 Season with cloves, salt, and pepper.

8 Remove from heat.

9 Purée the soup in a food processor or blender, a small portion at a time.

10 Pour through a strainer into a pot.

11 Stir in the half-and-half.

12 Warm the soup before serving.

The most annoying bit of it was certainly chopping the 3.5 pounds of tomatoes - note to self, get a food processor/blender. All in all it took about an hour and forty-five minutes, but with a half hour to spare in which I hung laundry. Yes, I'm having a rather domesticated day. Check back next week for more excitement, and maybe even photos.

Supplies party ... Yay

So, after last year's epically successful surprise party brother dearest and I planned, I'm in the early stages of planning another one - no worries, the futurely surprised person doesn't read my blog. It's going to be harder to keep this secret because I have to see them every day. If this goes as well as I expect, I'm going to change my career to party planner. xx

Before Dan arrived

SURPRISE!

A great many of my lady loves

Here, piggy piggy

So, I don't eat pork, and as far as I'm concerned and when anyone asks, I never have and I never will. About three times a week I'm asked why, and frankly I don't have an answer other than I DON'T WANT TO AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! Though, pork is assuredly a vegetable in Vietnam. Bleh.

Me: If [the royal baby] is a girl they might name it Charlotte, which I disapprove of - because even though I want to name my daughter (Laila) Ruth, I like Charlotte (Charlie for short), too.

Jess: Laila ? No ! But Charlotte is nice, yes

Me: Laila Ruth, say it out loud - it's cute and it flows when you're mad

Jess: Muslim and Jewish, will not be easy for her

Me: Well, certainly no one will ask her why she doesn't eat pork!

Jess: haha no!

Express Adoption

I've been thinking about teaching full time, but then I come to my senses.

Yesterday I got two new students along with David and Andrew, my devilish little angels for the past two years who I tend to miss even though I haven't left them yet. Hannah is ten, the same as Andrew, very quiet and studious. I like her. I like Andrew, too, he's a bit of a suck up, but he's well behaved and genuinely excited about nearly everything, except math. David is of course a pain in my butt and he's reached 13, the first day of which, I swear I walked into the room and he was frowning. I said, "What's wrong, Gloomy Gus?" He shrugged his shoulders. To which I said "No, no way, you JUST hit adolescence, you don't get to be a sullen brat already." Needless to say, he kept scowling.

BUT, to the point of this post. I met my ideal child - I really want to have a daughter that grows up to be just like her. She's as cute as a button, which doesn't hurt, and her little elfin voice makes her a giggle to listen to. The whipped cream on top is that she actually said, without ANY prompting from me, though I had told David he was being a poor influence, Guys, we need to be quieter so everyone can concentrate. She's SIX! Gah, the cutest. And the cherry, of course, is that she hugged me on the way out.

Friends, family. I may have to express adopt this child. I hope I will have your support. They simply can't come any better than that. And she's potty trained.

PSA: For those of you that are not familiar with my sense of humour, express adoption is kidnapping. And illegal. Which is why I need support ;)

Working. On Saturday.

Working on Saturday is the worst. The absolute worst. Whoever invented it hates fun and life itself; more specifically, they hate me. The end.

I went to an 80s party last night - where the music was more 90s than anything else, but what can you do? The outfit I wore was absolutely atrocious but equally fantastic. Will find photos soon.

Photo Update!: red sunnies, yellow tank and nails, purple shorts, teal tights, magenta heels, white clutch. This is for anyone who thinks I'm afraid of colour. And the 80s ;)

Amazing things are afoot

So a few weeks ago my friend and ex-colleague "introduced" her aunt (an author) and I to each other. We emailed back and forth a few times, and I have OFFICIALLY LANDED her 100,000-word, non-fiction! I am so incredibly excited and proud of myself. Aside from Helen's introduction, I handled all of the professional stuff ON MY OWN. I was just saying to Michael, I'm not sure when I became so professional/such a grown up.

In other news, I haven't made any decisions. Shocked? I didn't think so. My contract is ticking away and even though I feel slight anxiety at having no where to be on Monday, June 3rd, I can't shake this feeling of success, accomplishment, and sheer freedom to be and do whatever it is that I damn well feel like. I know this isn't the best economy to be quitting jobs willy-nilly, especially without a clear cut plan, but worry not, friends, I got this.

BUT if you want to lend a helping hand, any jobs in editing, in museums, or the like being passed my way would be most helpful and appreciated. Especially if they are at the Philadelphia Art Museum, because I've already found the PERRRRRFECT job, I just need an in. I'm going to apply before the week is out. That's right, you read it here first, I very well MAY be making a come back, east coast. GET READY!

Right, so with all of this excitement I have to go to sleep. Ha. LOVE!

PS: I bought a new camera! It was about time.

Status update: Cover letter written, resume updated, just waiting on an edit!

Funerals in Vietnam

I've lived in Saigon for about 26 months and never ever will I get used to funerals. I've never BEEN to one, but I've heard them, been re-directed on roads, etc.

This morning at 5:30 the saddest saxophone played the saddest song, accompanied by what seemed to be an orchestra down on the street (I never climb out of bed to look because that would wake me up even more). I used to think they started at such obscene hours in the morning because it was the exact moment when the person died - you know, in the dead sleep when this painful brass music wakes you us, there's not a lot of coherent thought going on. Today, in half a daze at missing out on an hour of vital sleep, I finally asked one of my colleagues - one who doesn't take offense to my questions about the culture but laughs at me instead (try to keep up with the language and the blending of paragraphs... I don't how how to change that since blogspot reformatted):

LA: Good morning dear DK! So, what's the deal with the 5:30 am band when someone dies? I used to assume it was the time when the person died... but I can't imagine that 8 people have died at 5:30 am since I've lived here. DK: not sure understand ur question LA: In my neighbourhood when there's a funeral, there's always a band playing at 5:30 in the forsaken morning. DK: ahhhhh :D:D:D understand LA: Why do they do this? WHY? DK: (rofl)(rofl) LA: |-) DK: omg Lauren hahahahaha you make me hahahaha cannot stop laughing (rofl)(rofl) but u're so cute wen asking/thinking the reason of dat hahahaha (sorry will tell in 5mins after finish laughing) :D LA: haha laugh it up while I take a nap

[Ten minutes later, which I'll presume she was working, not laughing at me]

DK: ok finish haha. well, dats de time music band starts working my dear. its not cause of dats de time the person died. LA: But they only work for 1 hour?! DK: no, they start at dat time, den they rest. and they only work every time there's people come to visit the died people LA: So they sit there all day and wait for visitors? DK: yes exactly LA: WHO VISITS AT 5:30 IN THE MORNING!? DK: no no its the time they start, its like warm up LA: I see, I see. Well, it's mostly very beautiful music, I just wish they'd sleep in a bit later. DK: hahaha. to me i dont like, it's too noisy :| LA: You're right, it is VERY noisy. I can hear it CLEARLY on the 9th floor. DK: :D yes. and to me its also not "formal" too. funeral is something sad already, there is no fun for listening to music >"< LA: That's true. DK: but others think cause its too sad so we need music to make it less sad :| DK: one more thing the fee to invite music band is really expensive too. if it's just VNmese, traditional music, it will be 4M for 3 days and if it is music band who plays western music/foreign music (they call like that), de money will be double. so sometimes here, having a music band in the funeral is de way for some people who wants to show off that they're rich LA: That IS a lot! DK: it's useless, the died people dont listen to music

So, now I understand the system. And DK has a point which I think could be proven around the world - that we'd rather spend money on things we can't afford so people will thing we have more than we do. When really, we can't even buy what we need anymore.

I'm finishing up my contract here in just three short weeks. No idea what I'm doing next. Currently, I have two freelance projects in the mix, so that should keep me busy until August. Also, finally moving out of my building in two weeks. I'll be sad to have to learn new routes, but so so happy to be rid of the forsaken parking men.

Queue up, people!

I've learned over the years to keep my negativity to myself, which is why you rarely come across posts of lamentation. But I just needed to get off my chest, no matter how long I'm here or how many times I've been to get gas - I still hate the experience. I am forever being cut in the queue and there is no respect or regard for the lower portion of my legs which are at high risk of being burned (Saigon-kiss free since 2011!).

Really, the Vietnamese could stand to take a lesson in waiting their turn and waiting patiently. Another funny story, which also happened today, comes to mind: I forgot the packet of pills I'm taking at the office and was forced to go to the pharmacy pick up a new one - because there's a schedule to it. ANYWAY I'm in the queue, waiting my turn, though endlessly being cut by Vietnamese women (no one respects the order of lines! bastards). Anyway, I'm panicking because I can't remember the brand name and of course I can't say it in Vietnamese - then, by the grace of God, ... I've just realised this story isn't appropriate for a public forum, but let's just say everyone laughed and got what they wanted, even if I had to wait around much longer than planned.

Learn something new everyday. This is what I learned in Czech today: Byl lepší, než jsme si mysleli. It translates loosely to "It was better than we thought." Which is basically a life mantra around here.

Many happy birthdays to all of you January babies!

Happy New Year!

Hello loves, I hope you all enjoyed your turn of the year! I had a lovely dinner with colleagues and friends and then relocated to a different rooftop for drinks and fireworks with other friends. All in all, a wonderful night, though the fireworks must have been invisible - Saigon's really got to get a handle on all of the tall buildings going up (which, mind you, are mostly empty).

Of course, it wouldn't be so obviously a good night had I held on to my phone - now lost somewhere in the backpacker area. I hope someone that really needed a phone found it :)

I'm getting ready to start planning a two week-ish trip to the Philippines! Excited to see what all the fuss is about. I've also got another 10 days to kill before the end of Feb. Chime in: not including the States - from where would you like postcards!?

As for what I do in my free time (aside from fulfilling my New Years Resolution by upping my study time for French): a. I'm obsessed with MasterChef US. b. Even after having a full meal, without fail it makes me hungry. c. "What the hell is 'fish sauce'? And why does it taste like death?" HA! It's really not so bad, but surely shouldn't be consumed alone by the mouth-full.

Thinking of you all here in sunny Saigon. Big love! <3

Butts and such

So, Big Boss is ridiculously proud of some silly blog he wrote in French months ago. He's gloating, while also goading us to up our game. Meanwhile, we write once a week and he chimes in every couple of months, of course his isn't just being churned out due to necessity. Anyway, I think this is my best yet. Read it and tell a friend - it needs more views than his ;)

The Naked Truth by Le Lorrain, rather, yours truly.

This just in...

A random list of things learned or discovered on a random Thursday:

1. A poor night of sleep in a hot room due to a broken air conditioner will lead to reading "Baby girl (+/- 12 mths) Christmas dress for sale" as "BABY GIRL FOR SALE".

2. Daft Punk, distorted through headphones and two seats over, sounds like bagpipes.

3. When you need the day to be longer, it flies by, and when you wish it away, it's slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter.

4. Being caught with water dribbling out of your mouth is still better than spilling an entire bottle on your multiple projects and key board.

5. If you say enough ridiculous things to non-native speakers, they'll start saying them, too. Which has lead to: "Maybe it's a tumor." "YOU'RE a tumor." "Wow, that was kind of mean."

6. Thursday generally proves to be the most entertaining and interesting day of the work week.

7. Though, Thursday will never be as joyous as Friday. Unless it's a three day weekend. Have a good one! Happy December!

Good-bye America, I'll miss you.

Well, I'm off. After a three day delay - thank God I waited at my mom's rather than sitting in the airport; and damn you, Sandy, damn you. Though, I suppose that one day I'll tell my grandchildren about it. I'm heading back to 'Nam. Excited, fulfilled, and full of love, I'm happy to have experienced the US as a vacation destination.

Driving up to JFK was much less stressful and more promising that I originally thought it would be. There was only traffic at the end, near the airport. Perhaps Sandy and her watery ways scared everyone off as much as I was concerned that it was a waste of time. We walked in and within 30 minutes standing there I had a ticket and was rushed off to the gate - because the plane was leaving in another 30 minutes - like LEAVING, not just closing the doors and sitting there. Lessons learned? A) Do not take China Eastern. B) Wait three days and forge ahead with previous plans. C) Show up with one hour to go, they'll take you ;).

It was great seeing everyone I managed to fit in, in such a short period of time. Thanks to all for making a much anticipated journey and experience totally worth it. I'll try not to wait nearly two years to get back again!

Notes from the back of the plane: Sitting by the bathroom is the worst. Not only does it smell from 30 minutes after you sit down, but people crowd around waiting for it to be empty. No, sir, he's not going to come out any faster just because you're standing here.

Also. How does one board a 15 hour flight with NOTHING to entertain himself? I'll never understand.

Happy Birthday, Momma!

Now that all is said and done I can stop being so damn secretive.

My brother and I planned what turned out to be a really amazing surprise birthday party for our mom. We managed to break into her phone, address books, and email accounts to notify friends from near and far, past and present. The Chelsea Hotel is a great venue - surprise or not. It was a terrible secret to keep, but she truly enjoyed it and I don't think we could have given her a better gift.

Being back on the east coast has been such a relaxing experience. It's been so wonderful to see so many familiar faces and know that while I'm far in distance it is clear that I'm never far in heart. It's cliche to boast of how wonderful your family and friends are, but I couldn't ask for a better set, either in the States or abroad. I've been really lucky to build such an incredible "fan" base (as Bill and I like to call it) and I'm happy to know that where ever I go, I'm going home.

That said. I came to see you suckers. Now come see me!