To come to Hong Kong, that is to say, to move to Hong Kong, you have to have a pretty strong constitution. This is the land of excess, and access. You can pretty much indulge in numerous vices and go from zero to world citizen status within three months. Things are good and plenty out here. You are desired, you make quick friends, you make good money, you are on top of the world in this subtropic finance centre.And though you might be a dime a dozen where you come from, you are unique and in high demand here. you lucky boy.
But because of your fortunes, you tend to expect this universe to be your new reality, and that is throws you in hyper reality and really tests your core values. If you are strong at the core, then the excessiveness is merely a challenge. If you are not, then you might get swept away and lose yourself in this nonreality.
Little humbles you. You travel like kings and queens, you dispose of people, you spend little doing it. When your parents come, you are nervous. You revert back to your old self. You are uncomfortable.
Because without parental supervision, without the check adn balance you go off the radar. Those centred at the core self police and can say yes or no, know truth adn wrong without thought. They know to do the right thing.
So do the right thing.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
I’ve always been in love with Angelina. In high school we were the two Angies joined at the hip. Angie was an ultra-beauty. She was so femme that if she was anymore feminine, she would be masculine. And she was nice. Every girl hated her. But I loved her, even now. That is why I took the first over to Beijing when I heard she was there.
In school we caused all sorts of trouble and greeted eachother on the lips as high school girls do to gain the attention of teachers.
It was no coincident that I asked her to meet at a yakiniku joint called Kiss Kiss. The Taiwanese owner gives complimentary plates of beef tongue if you make out with someone for ten seconds and let him photograph you doing it. It is the kind of perverted food love I love. I arrived early to secure a table on the hipster’s dining row of XXX. I’m sitting here by myself in a black-box divvy yakuniku joint with walls loaded with graffiti and layered with Polaroids of couple in tongue tango. I make it a point to tell the entire staff that I’m waiting for someone as random men will come up to you and ask for a kiss. I turn my neck with every anticipation of the door opening, then slinks when it is not her. I can’t believe I was so nervous.
My phone bells. Angie’s sent me a text: “BJ traffic. So sorry babe.” As I’m replying, the bartender comes over. “Want to kiss?” he asks a little too friendly. “No that’s ok, thank you.” I hate rejection. An older gentleman with a slight moustache began his approach and I just looked down and shook my head. This might be the loneliest place in the world.
An hour goes by before I see an angelic glow enter the door. She was as cute as ever, now with bone straight hair pulled back in a secretary by day/ sex kitten by night kind of way. I always knew she had cheekbones that would make her age gracefully. We kissed on the cheek and it felt like an arrow missing the bull’s eye. Over beers and grilled meats we chatted about our lives since highschool.
The idea of order the beef tongue came up. And I said, the guys here creep me out, and the cute waiters are paid to kiss customers.
He held lips to lip for a mere second before realizing this is completely ridiculous. Her lip gloss smelled like old lady scents and stuck to my lip like rubber tree sap.
In school we caused all sorts of trouble and greeted eachother on the lips as high school girls do to gain the attention of teachers.
It was no coincident that I asked her to meet at a yakiniku joint called Kiss Kiss. The Taiwanese owner gives complimentary plates of beef tongue if you make out with someone for ten seconds and let him photograph you doing it. It is the kind of perverted food love I love. I arrived early to secure a table on the hipster’s dining row of XXX. I’m sitting here by myself in a black-box divvy yakuniku joint with walls loaded with graffiti and layered with Polaroids of couple in tongue tango. I make it a point to tell the entire staff that I’m waiting for someone as random men will come up to you and ask for a kiss. I turn my neck with every anticipation of the door opening, then slinks when it is not her. I can’t believe I was so nervous.
My phone bells. Angie’s sent me a text: “BJ traffic. So sorry babe.” As I’m replying, the bartender comes over. “Want to kiss?” he asks a little too friendly. “No that’s ok, thank you.” I hate rejection. An older gentleman with a slight moustache began his approach and I just looked down and shook my head. This might be the loneliest place in the world.
An hour goes by before I see an angelic glow enter the door. She was as cute as ever, now with bone straight hair pulled back in a secretary by day/ sex kitten by night kind of way. I always knew she had cheekbones that would make her age gracefully. We kissed on the cheek and it felt like an arrow missing the bull’s eye. Over beers and grilled meats we chatted about our lives since highschool.
The idea of order the beef tongue came up. And I said, the guys here creep me out, and the cute waiters are paid to kiss customers.
He held lips to lip for a mere second before realizing this is completely ridiculous. Her lip gloss smelled like old lady scents and stuck to my lip like rubber tree sap.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Best Meal Ever with Boys
As I was compiling the 50 meals you must have this year list, I was trying to think back on the best meals I've had and why.
Why these meals and not others? What made these meals so special, tops above all else? The only conclusion I found was the people I shared my table with.
Happiness, I've discovered, makes my sensories heightened. So does fear. On a date, my senses go from guarded to uninhabited within a drink, three more I go from caution to lust. And when that happens my tasting threshold stretch to both spectrums of extreme.
So here is my personal, uncensored, list of best meals ever.
Bone marrow with Professor
He made me my first gin and tonic. And I know I could trust his taste from that point forward. We would have roasted bone marrow on toast points and salt and parsley salad before our class. Sucking slightly cooked fat from the inside of a chainsawed section of bone is never a sexy look, but he made it effortlessly elegant. With pinch spoons we would scoop out the fat, and sometimes blood, then lay the lumps of fat on toast and spread it like butter. It went on the tongue like the sweetest, smoothest cream you've ever had. Th salt and parsley salad only freshened the breath and cut the grease so to feel less guilty of eating pre fat. He taught me how to eat, not like a college student, but as a young adult.
Steak with Blake
Blake, in hindsight, might have been the love of my life. I stupidly broke up with him because throughout our relationship he was a vegetarian. And a life without meat was not a life I wanted to have. During our annual meet up/ one upmanship dinner, I was shocked to hear he chose a steak house. Over a shared Tuscany porterhouse, he told me he's always wanted to eat meat but just couldn't afford it right out of college. He chewed each piece of meat with 18 bites to get the maximum flavour out of each taste. "You would think after a decade of being a vegetarian your body would reject meat, but mine is loving it," he said savourying the New York strip.I did as he did and slowly chewed on every bite, tasting the flavours of the fat of the cow and followed his comments of how th eblood tasted fresh, not aged, how the charring so too much on such a high fat content piece of meat. I'd never tasted meat like I was drinking wines. I'd never tasted meat until i was with a vegetarian.
Scrambled eggs with Josh
Any meal with Josh would always be rushed. He was a workacholic and shuttled between cities most days of the week. When he knew he had a morning in town, we would always meet up, and usually between 5 and 6 in the morning. Options were slim at this hour, but we found haven in 24 hour cafes around town. Sometimes I would be too excited to sleep or too worried I wouldnt wake for our date. I was usually exhausted when we met, but immediately perks at the sight of him. We would almost always share one plate of greasy scrambled eggs, then order another because we would still be hungry. Then for the next hour I would sip milk tea, him coffee, and talk about a future we never had together. When we weren't together, we would seek out new cafes to visit and have endless conversations about them for the sake of a conversation. Though what we were really saying is we were happy to have eachother's company, even if it was only one hour a week.
Steak with Thomas
Stuck on an assignment, I was dining by myself at The Oakdoor in Toyko. I had no idea this was a date spot. Great. The manager gave me a two top right in the middle of the grand dining room and along with my bread basket he brought out a selection of magazine to entertain me as I was without company. No thank you, I told him and then I let him order for me. He brought out a lushious piece of A8 wagyu, a beautiful glass of bordeux and gorgeous geltin tartin. The food just tasted better because my hormones were heightened. He came by every so often to entertain me with stories during pockets of lull on the floor. We ended on a drinking tour of the city’s best speak easys until the next morning. And from there a beautiful courtship emerged.
Yakitori with Dick
After a fight, you long to see the person you care for to make sure they are ok because your world is in wrecks knowing the other is hurting. We hadn’t spoken in days and so many days had passed and we weren’t certain why anymore. It was so good to see him. We shared four bottles of sake to calm the edges left between us. There were savory meats on sticks, and heavily salted lamb chops which made us drink even more. The staff even bought us a bottle to see how much we could drink on a school night. It was the best meal of our relationship. It was even good when he held my hair back as I tossed up in his bathroom.
Fake Mexican with Ben
I never cared much for Mexican food in Hong Kong. Mostly because I was spoilt by the real thing in the Mexican kitchens of Los Angeles. So to have pretend Mexican food here never proved fruitful. We spent an afternoon drinking beers in the winter sun and tasting an array of fake Mexican food at Tequila. There's little that I won't, but an childhood incident with peppers had put me off them for life. I gag with the force of life when one sneaks itself in my mouth. I've manufactured a lie I tell myself that they make my fart. Even when they touch my food, or worst when it is blended into, say, a soup or a sauce, I walk away. He orders peppers, four of them, stuffed with cheese. Now, if I didn't like him so much, I would've objected. Instead, when they arrived I gracefully accept one. Fork in hand, I dive. I closely examine the treat before me.The pepper did not smell of that familiar barf-inducing scent, the skin was coated with so much cheese and a layer of beer batter, I bare noticed the green slimy skin. In a baby bite, I taste nothing but XXX cheese and batter. Another bite revealed the same. By a few more, I had finished the whole thing and reaching for another. I dig this, I could do this, I like this, he likes this, we like this. he broke me of my fear. I'd never thoguht my first whole pepper would taste so good.
Salmon lettuce wrap with Mark
It was our second dinner of the evening. No matter how much we love food as foodies, we just could get into our first meal at The Pawn. I was excited to taste their roasted bone marrow with parsley salad appetitiser, and he was excited to try their sucking pig. After a drawn out flirtation period, we had out first date, Friday. We both had high expectations of our perspective dishes, both disappointed greatly. So much so we got up to have a second dinner elsewhere. It was our own fault, we had been talking up this meal to epic portions. So the only conclusion was disappointment. Though after a three course meal, neither one of us was hungry, but neither were satisified being true gluttonists. We roll into Sushi Kuu for a shot of salmon lettuce wrap. This might be perfection in a lettuce. In two bites, we were sated. In two bite, this helper did more, much more than what our previous three-course meal had done. The salmon, butter-like. The lettuce- crisp and held the sauce and juice from the fish. The secret sauce mixed with thin sliced onion created what was said best by my date, "This tastes like a burger." Forget the fancy, a burger is what good first dates are all about.
Why these meals and not others? What made these meals so special, tops above all else? The only conclusion I found was the people I shared my table with.
Happiness, I've discovered, makes my sensories heightened. So does fear. On a date, my senses go from guarded to uninhabited within a drink, three more I go from caution to lust. And when that happens my tasting threshold stretch to both spectrums of extreme.
So here is my personal, uncensored, list of best meals ever.
Bone marrow with Professor
He made me my first gin and tonic. And I know I could trust his taste from that point forward. We would have roasted bone marrow on toast points and salt and parsley salad before our class. Sucking slightly cooked fat from the inside of a chainsawed section of bone is never a sexy look, but he made it effortlessly elegant. With pinch spoons we would scoop out the fat, and sometimes blood, then lay the lumps of fat on toast and spread it like butter. It went on the tongue like the sweetest, smoothest cream you've ever had. Th salt and parsley salad only freshened the breath and cut the grease so to feel less guilty of eating pre fat. He taught me how to eat, not like a college student, but as a young adult.
Steak with Blake
Blake, in hindsight, might have been the love of my life. I stupidly broke up with him because throughout our relationship he was a vegetarian. And a life without meat was not a life I wanted to have. During our annual meet up/ one upmanship dinner, I was shocked to hear he chose a steak house. Over a shared Tuscany porterhouse, he told me he's always wanted to eat meat but just couldn't afford it right out of college. He chewed each piece of meat with 18 bites to get the maximum flavour out of each taste. "You would think after a decade of being a vegetarian your body would reject meat, but mine is loving it," he said savourying the New York strip.I did as he did and slowly chewed on every bite, tasting the flavours of the fat of the cow and followed his comments of how th eblood tasted fresh, not aged, how the charring so too much on such a high fat content piece of meat. I'd never tasted meat like I was drinking wines. I'd never tasted meat until i was with a vegetarian.
Scrambled eggs with Josh
Any meal with Josh would always be rushed. He was a workacholic and shuttled between cities most days of the week. When he knew he had a morning in town, we would always meet up, and usually between 5 and 6 in the morning. Options were slim at this hour, but we found haven in 24 hour cafes around town. Sometimes I would be too excited to sleep or too worried I wouldnt wake for our date. I was usually exhausted when we met, but immediately perks at the sight of him. We would almost always share one plate of greasy scrambled eggs, then order another because we would still be hungry. Then for the next hour I would sip milk tea, him coffee, and talk about a future we never had together. When we weren't together, we would seek out new cafes to visit and have endless conversations about them for the sake of a conversation. Though what we were really saying is we were happy to have eachother's company, even if it was only one hour a week.
Steak with Thomas
Stuck on an assignment, I was dining by myself at The Oakdoor in Toyko. I had no idea this was a date spot. Great. The manager gave me a two top right in the middle of the grand dining room and along with my bread basket he brought out a selection of magazine to entertain me as I was without company. No thank you, I told him and then I let him order for me. He brought out a lushious piece of A8 wagyu, a beautiful glass of bordeux and gorgeous geltin tartin. The food just tasted better because my hormones were heightened. He came by every so often to entertain me with stories during pockets of lull on the floor. We ended on a drinking tour of the city’s best speak easys until the next morning. And from there a beautiful courtship emerged.
Yakitori with Dick
After a fight, you long to see the person you care for to make sure they are ok because your world is in wrecks knowing the other is hurting. We hadn’t spoken in days and so many days had passed and we weren’t certain why anymore. It was so good to see him. We shared four bottles of sake to calm the edges left between us. There were savory meats on sticks, and heavily salted lamb chops which made us drink even more. The staff even bought us a bottle to see how much we could drink on a school night. It was the best meal of our relationship. It was even good when he held my hair back as I tossed up in his bathroom.
Fake Mexican with Ben
I never cared much for Mexican food in Hong Kong. Mostly because I was spoilt by the real thing in the Mexican kitchens of Los Angeles. So to have pretend Mexican food here never proved fruitful. We spent an afternoon drinking beers in the winter sun and tasting an array of fake Mexican food at Tequila. There's little that I won't, but an childhood incident with peppers had put me off them for life. I gag with the force of life when one sneaks itself in my mouth. I've manufactured a lie I tell myself that they make my fart. Even when they touch my food, or worst when it is blended into, say, a soup or a sauce, I walk away. He orders peppers, four of them, stuffed with cheese. Now, if I didn't like him so much, I would've objected. Instead, when they arrived I gracefully accept one. Fork in hand, I dive. I closely examine the treat before me.The pepper did not smell of that familiar barf-inducing scent, the skin was coated with so much cheese and a layer of beer batter, I bare noticed the green slimy skin. In a baby bite, I taste nothing but XXX cheese and batter. Another bite revealed the same. By a few more, I had finished the whole thing and reaching for another. I dig this, I could do this, I like this, he likes this, we like this. he broke me of my fear. I'd never thoguht my first whole pepper would taste so good.
Salmon lettuce wrap with Mark
It was our second dinner of the evening. No matter how much we love food as foodies, we just could get into our first meal at The Pawn. I was excited to taste their roasted bone marrow with parsley salad appetitiser, and he was excited to try their sucking pig. After a drawn out flirtation period, we had out first date, Friday. We both had high expectations of our perspective dishes, both disappointed greatly. So much so we got up to have a second dinner elsewhere. It was our own fault, we had been talking up this meal to epic portions. So the only conclusion was disappointment. Though after a three course meal, neither one of us was hungry, but neither were satisified being true gluttonists. We roll into Sushi Kuu for a shot of salmon lettuce wrap. This might be perfection in a lettuce. In two bites, we were sated. In two bite, this helper did more, much more than what our previous three-course meal had done. The salmon, butter-like. The lettuce- crisp and held the sauce and juice from the fish. The secret sauce mixed with thin sliced onion created what was said best by my date, "This tastes like a burger." Forget the fancy, a burger is what good first dates are all about.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Homeless Guy
The guy has nothing to offer me.Zero. No security, no future, nothing but wit and good times. And converastion, no a tender heart.
He just gets me. And he makes everything fun, funnier.
Best meals ever;
Steak and cab shiz at oakdoor
If I had to pick the best meal EVER, then it's got to be a meal someone cooked for me. It might have been my very first solid food. My sadistic grandfather, a chef, made me eat lobster. Who serves a baby a bacteria carrying, ocean bottom feeder? What kind of sick experiment is that? But that is my fate. Since i can't remember that meal, I'm going to fast forward a few decades into present day.
Things just taste better when you're happy, in love, in lust, intrigued. Happy.
And the same is true when you are down. Things just taste dead, dull, less.
Chateau Bernanon, Ocean Club Bahamas. First taste of freedom at 16.It was so tender and it was my first taste of bernasis sauce.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx interspec story telling with memorable meals.
5am eggs with Josh at French Roast
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
First gin and tonic with peter baker
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Kebabs with Kevin McCleod
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Yakitori with Dick
My relationships are ear marked with amazing meals, to me they are amazing meals.
He just gets me. And he makes everything fun, funnier.
Best meals ever;
Steak and cab shiz at oakdoor
If I had to pick the best meal EVER, then it's got to be a meal someone cooked for me. It might have been my very first solid food. My sadistic grandfather, a chef, made me eat lobster. Who serves a baby a bacteria carrying, ocean bottom feeder? What kind of sick experiment is that? But that is my fate. Since i can't remember that meal, I'm going to fast forward a few decades into present day.
Things just taste better when you're happy, in love, in lust, intrigued. Happy.
And the same is true when you are down. Things just taste dead, dull, less.
Chateau Bernanon, Ocean Club Bahamas. First taste of freedom at 16.It was so tender and it was my first taste of bernasis sauce.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx interspec story telling with memorable meals.
5am eggs with Josh at French Roast
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
First gin and tonic with peter baker
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Kebabs with Kevin McCleod
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Yakitori with Dick
My relationships are ear marked with amazing meals, to me they are amazing meals.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Best meal ever
I played alittle social experiment for work recently. I dine at one restaurant three times: once with four friends, once with a guy I'm interested in, and once by myself. I ordered the same meal each times and I swear to you each time it tasted different. Not because the chefs were inconsistent, but because my emotions were.
Now this is a hard thing to hear as I do restaurant reviews around town. My experience of a meal is greatly affected by the company I keep. WHen I was with my four friends, I couldn't taste anything, I was too busy talking and catching up, that I just shovelled food into my mouth. It was about the company and conversations here, not so much about the wonders of the dishes before me. When I'm with a guy, it really could go either way. I could be completely be in loe with him and be persued that this is the best meal of my life or I could dislike the guy and never return again to that restaurant to not relive that memory.
Our tastebuds do have memories and will associate an awful experience with taste and smells. Which is why I cannot a peanut butter and jelly sandwich ever again.
Dining alone is sometime just lonely. Yes, your sensories are heightened because you have little distractions (magazines, bberries, newspapers), and concentrations is on the meal before you. But if you ever study solo diners as I do. So many times they speed shovel the food in their mouths and exit.
But the best meals I've ever had were because of the company I keep. Everything is heightened when you are in lust> I need to ask a brain XXXX about this but I bet taste and sex share the same part of the brain.
Suckling pig seems to be have been touched by magic when you are sharing it with the one you love most. I must admit some of the best meals I've had in this town were because of the guys who engaged me in conversations.
So thank you Ben for the best mexican poppers, thank you X for the best portuguese egg tarts, thank you Thomas for the most delicious bordeux. Thank you guys for making life so delicious.
food and association.
This is why restaurnats love it when someone proposes in their restaurants, they know if it works out, the couple will come back year after year.
Now this is a hard thing to hear as I do restaurant reviews around town. My experience of a meal is greatly affected by the company I keep. WHen I was with my four friends, I couldn't taste anything, I was too busy talking and catching up, that I just shovelled food into my mouth. It was about the company and conversations here, not so much about the wonders of the dishes before me. When I'm with a guy, it really could go either way. I could be completely be in loe with him and be persued that this is the best meal of my life or I could dislike the guy and never return again to that restaurant to not relive that memory.
Our tastebuds do have memories and will associate an awful experience with taste and smells. Which is why I cannot a peanut butter and jelly sandwich ever again.
Dining alone is sometime just lonely. Yes, your sensories are heightened because you have little distractions (magazines, bberries, newspapers), and concentrations is on the meal before you. But if you ever study solo diners as I do. So many times they speed shovel the food in their mouths and exit.
But the best meals I've ever had were because of the company I keep. Everything is heightened when you are in lust> I need to ask a brain XXXX about this but I bet taste and sex share the same part of the brain.
Suckling pig seems to be have been touched by magic when you are sharing it with the one you love most. I must admit some of the best meals I've had in this town were because of the guys who engaged me in conversations.
So thank you Ben for the best mexican poppers, thank you X for the best portuguese egg tarts, thank you Thomas for the most delicious bordeux. Thank you guys for making life so delicious.
food and association.
This is why restaurnats love it when someone proposes in their restaurants, they know if it works out, the couple will come back year after year.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
chapters
Tokyo;
man with a plan: mistress please
Oak Door: Thomas
Morgan Stanley run annual fireworks fugu
Bike ride / picnic in the park
Shenzhen: Anti Japanese restaurant
Guangzhou: mango fed duck// white swan hotel adoption
Sri Lanka: black and white ball
Taipei: 97 dumplings to go Din Fung Tin
Singapore: Clara stop please oh god stop
Bali: som soup
Seoul:
BJ: Ass sandwich
Kiss kiss
Shanghai: Thomas
Vietnam:
koh Samui: dead blow fish in the sand as we eat
Sanya; Hainan chicken
Okinawa
Vietnam?
Home; Dinner parties
man with a plan: mistress please
Oak Door: Thomas
Morgan Stanley run annual fireworks fugu
Bike ride / picnic in the park
Shenzhen: Anti Japanese restaurant
Guangzhou: mango fed duck// white swan hotel adoption
Sri Lanka: black and white ball
Taipei: 97 dumplings to go Din Fung Tin
Singapore: Clara stop please oh god stop
Bali: som soup
Seoul:
BJ: Ass sandwich
Kiss kiss
Shanghai: Thomas
Vietnam:
koh Samui: dead blow fish in the sand as we eat
Sanya; Hainan chicken
Okinawa
Vietnam?
Home; Dinner parties
Sunday, May 3, 2009
apple
I've had this apple in my refridgator since I moved into my apartment 14 months ago. I'm wondering if it will ever go bad. What is in this super apple?
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