Home is where my stomach is

I don't usually get homesick, but the thought of going home makes me even more anxious for the occasion. I'm leaving on Sunday and won't be back until the following Sunday. What am I looking forward to?

1. My parents oh-so-unbelievable cooking

2. Drinking in the back yard with my dad

3. BBQing

4. Beer Pong and bar hoping with the amigos

5. Pick up basketball games

6. Playing with the little cousins

7. Hercules, my wimp of a poodle-terrier mix

8. Hitting up the beaches

9. Spending a day on Naushon

10. Spening another day on Martha's Vineyard

11. Showing a special someone all of it.

Just to elaborate how good my parents cooking is - what follows is a tribute:

I didn't realize how good their home cooking was until I had left for college. I guess I had assumed all parents can cook like they can. Growing up we never went out to eat and only on rare occasions would order pizza. Once I got to college, I was shocked! It's not that the food at GW and around campus was bad, it just wasn't incredible. Even to this day, when I go home to Boston there is only one restaurant I really look forward to: 174 Pond Street.

They make everything from scratch, using authentic Vietnamese recipes with their own improvisions. They know the good markets to get fresh seafood and vegtables. My dad grows fresh peppers. Our kitchen is huge, and their collection of cooking tools are expansive.

My dad is the mastermind. He's an incredibly ingenuitive man. My sister took my parents to a thai restaurant in NY a while back. Two weeks later he was making a Pad Thai that would kick all other Pad Thai's butts. He used more scallions, a lighter vinergar mix and fresh sprouts.

My mom is the desert chef. She makes this pound cake that requires whipping eggs until they are foaming. The end product - AMAZING. She is also an expect at the proportions of Vietnamese coffee, brewed on top of sweet condensed milk right on top of your glass.

Other incredibles: Mom's spring rolls, Dad's steak tips, Their Pho -Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup, Dad's friend rice, Mom's fried bananas, Dad's sushi platter, Mom's tomato and beef stuffed tofu, Dad's Shrimp dumplings on sugar canes, Mom's surf and turf crepes.

Okay, I'm hungry now.

Psuedo-Maturity

The office vampire still amuses me with her vacant intellect, pungent racism and pseudo-maturity. What I mean by pseudo-maturity is best exemplified by what I over heard her complaining about the other day.

Secretary 1: Been typing away all day on forms in the back room there.
Office Vampire: I use to work an associate in another law firm that had me typing away at forms all day.
Secretary 1: Boy, my fingers are tired.
Office Vampire: One time, he clearly made a verb error and so I fixed it for him on the form. He comes up to me and starts yelling at me - 'how dare you change that!' obviously he was upset a mere Secretary had corrected him.
Secretary 1: Did you ask him about it?
Office Vampire: No, but it was clearly wrong. As an attorney he should have known that. Needless to say, my stint there didn't last too long.
Secretary 1: I have to get back to work.

Then there was the time she got really angry and complained to our receptionist about the amount of fruit the partner she works for takes from the fruit salad bowl we get every morning. Yes, I get breakfast for free at work. No complaints here, but the Office Vampire.. well..

Office Vampire: This is getting ridiculous. Every morning S. walks in and gets a big bowl of fruit leaving the rest of the office with scraps.
Receptionist: Well, he is a partner and the reason we have fruit in the first place.
Office Vampire: Yeah, but shouldn't we order two bowls. I mean one for S. and maybe a secret one for the rest of the office. It's just not fair. He comes in early and has his pick.
Receptionist: I'll have to ask G about that.
Office Vampire: I mean he takes all the strawberries, kiwis and oh yeah, orange slices and leaves us the melon!
Receptionist: No one else has complained.
Office Vampire: He's just so freaking cheap. ahhh!

Sorry, this was all within this past week. She also got in a fight with another secretary about the fact that she has been assigned two nights to stay late in July -OUT OF THE WHOLE MONTH OF JULY. She referred to it as forced labor. It's not like you are not getting paid overtime for it. And because she's an older lady, wears glasses, dresses conservativly, even presents herself in an intellectual manner - one would assume she had the maturity level of a nun at a dinner for the Pope. Not so much. It's more along the lines of an 8th grade school trip to Washington, DC. You know, the kids that try to do pulls up while the metro train is moving.

Lean Cuisine is not Made for Men

Every Saturday or Sunday evening while I'm strolling through my local Giant Grocery Store, the age old debate everyman struggles over rages on in my head : What do I want to eat...specifically...what do I want to eat for lunch?

Now I've been through my phases. I used to pack a sandwich, unusually turkey or ham on spicy mustard between slices of wheat bread. It would accompany an apple or piece of fruit of some sort and maybe pretzels. Yeah, I got bored of that quickly. I would really have to load my sandwich with a half pound of turkey for any kind of satisfaction. And think of all the separate items that have to be bought - lettuce, mustard, meat, bread, tomatoes; the effort one has to put into making lunch the night before; and finally the satisfaction factor vs. work put in. It all added up to boring and not worth it. And have you ever had a sandwich sit in mustard for 8 hours? Not appetizing.

There was the Tuna Nicolese salad phase. Lettuce, tuna, egg, olives and oil and vinegar. Again, it's great freshly prepared, but have you had a salad after it's been soaked in dressing for 8 hours? Not appetizing, and obviously the cost/benefit factor wasn't up to par.

A few weeks ago I happen to swing by the frozen food section. I'm a bigger fan of frozen vegetables then I am of canned vegetables. Taste fresher. Wouldn't you rather be frozen to be preserved rather then canned in some weird juice? And holy cow was Lean Cuisine on sale. Each one had a delectable name and picture - Chicken Carbonera, Three bean chili, Chicken Fettacini, Pepper Meatloaf. Each packed in a convenient white box with a promise of a flavorful healthy meal after a five to seven minute stint in the microwave.

So I bought a bunch and have been bringing them to work for lunch. Of course I have to clearly mark which Chicken Carbonera mine as to not confuse them with the other Chicken Caboneras the secretaries and ladies in the office bring. That should have been my first clue. No other male brings lean cuisine for lunch or any other frozen/microwavable instant meal for lunch. Only yours truly, the polite Asian kid. So I am now the polite Asian kid that has lean cuisine for lunch.

Not only do I have to wait by the microwave for my meal to be cooked, I have to make small talk with the middle aged to shouldn't-you-be-retired-aged Secretaries. I'm okay with small topics like weather, vacation plans and movies, but don't expect me to have an opinion on American Idol or what's that show with the people on the Island..Gilligan, but not as funny. Anyway, I'll find myself saying - so what's for lunch - referring to their frozen meal. There will be responses like 'Oh, I have the mac and cheese. I like the Fettuccine, but it always upsets my stomach.' Thanks for the tip.

The worst part - The absolute worst part - I'm still hungry. 268 calories equals two very refreshing Sam Adams which I would prefer over a lean cuisine any day, but there is this stigma about drinking at work - the Europeans do it, so we shouldn't.

I've learned my lesson - lean cuisine is not for men, and now will go hunt out a meaty sandwich.

Fogo de Chao

This past Saturday I had the manliest meal I've ever had. Last Sunday, my roommate R went to Atlantic City to help run a Police Expo, something that he has been doing for the past gazillion years. Right before he left that Sunday, He asks me, "Have any bets you want to place?"

 

Without skipping a beat I pull out a twenty and tell him to bet Black, Red, Red, and then Black. I had gone into a trance, it was this weird zone - a type of rhythm athletes pick up. I was Dwayne Wade for a good five seconds.

 

That night while laying in bed with my girlfriend, R calls. I think to myself, shit, he forgot something. Nope. He says, "Hey Buddy, I just won you $290!"

 

And so this past Saturday, we go out in style to Fogo De Chao. It's a classy joint on 11th and Penn. It's colored by bachelor parties, expense accounts, anniversaries, birthday parties and high rollers. It's an all you can eat Brazilian BBQ. This place is definitely not PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) friendly but more for my PETA (People for the Eating of Tasty Animals). They bring out huge skewers of Fillets, tips, lamb, chicken, parmesan pork and sausages. Each patron gets a coin with green on one side and red on the other. With a flip to green, the servers come by with these chunks of meat, slice you off a bit with a sword until you flip the coin over to red. They have one waiter dedicated to solely bringing you out side dishes of fried bananas and cheddar and chived mashed potatoes. The salad bar is an array of fresh vegetables, sun dried tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, a large wheel of parmesan cheese and anti-pasto meats, including smoked salmon.

 

R and I have cocktails, a bottle of really good Kenwood Merlot and about a cow and a half each. It was much needed male bonding time. I forget sometimes how much we've been through together and how much we've seen. Yeah, so It was a man date! And it being a man date, I rightly fished the meal off with a large glass of Macallen 12 on the rocks and R had an Irish Coffee. Not Irish enough, he said.

 

I'm still in a bit of a food comotose.

 

Happy First Day of Summer!

The hot heat of the sweltering subway made the morning commute a mad rush of pissed off pedestrians. I didn't like it one bit, but I couldn't wipe the smile off my face because it's the first day of summer.

 

Have you ever seen that commercial where all the suites run out of their office building celebrating like it was the last day of school? People are pushing each other out in office chairs, and station wagons screech out of the parking lot - a dream deferred.

 

So I've come to terms that I can't have two months off during the summer - in reliation I'm set on happy hours and weekend trips.

 

Stay tuned for Dat's list of the top 100 things to do before the end of the summer.

 

As a preview: Today, I'll be kayaking in Georgetown. Tomorrow is lunch at The Hotel Washington

Saturday is BBQ Fest

Ogled

He stared without embarrassment at the attractive brunette standing in the line across from him. Lunch time at The Corner Bakery on H street is always entertaining. He wore a grey suit, red silk tie and white shirt. His sun glasses pushed back his blond floppy hair, and his brown eyes ogled without abandon at the petite brunette in a white skirt, pink collared shirt and amber necklace. Her taller friend had noticed the staring and chuckled in whispers to the petite brunet. Floppy handed over his credit card to the cashier without removing his eyes from petite brunette, and he smiled a big and confident grin, like a contender about to get his prize.

 

More giggles pursued as the ladies hurriedly left the cafe to sit outside, their laughing escalates as they walk father away.

 

Perhaps I should have told him that his fly was way down and his little buddy was out staring without embarrassment as well.

From the Rooftop

He waits on the corner of 17th and Penn, white shirt, crisp and clean, Ipod plays Jay-Z - cool and confident. It's a regular Wednesday, beautiful and warm. A slight breeze blow in from the west, but nothing unusual. It's early April and tourist season is in full swing. The retired who have too much time in their hands and the middle schools kids who have too much energy in their hands descend like hungry sight seeing vultures on our meticulously clean, Roman Inspired, North West, DC.

The e-mail said lunch, rooftop. Is it a date?

He did kiss her, or she him, or maybe they just both kissed each other on that Saturday night. They definitely danced. He had spun her and twisted her in an an intricate and beautiful pattern of steps all night while his heart wound up in knots. She's beautiful, he thought. Don't hurt me, she thought. Who could hurt someone so sweet, he thought. Please, don't let me down, he thought. He's cute. He had forgotten that they were there that night for his Birthday celebration. There would have been more shots, dumb faces and frat brother antics. Things were different tonight and his friends knew. They let him dance with the cute red haired girl. And her friends, who knew him as the nice guy, did the same. And they had all danced too, or at least watched the boy and the girl dance right up to the intimate moment where he felt like undoing all those knots in his heart - he kissed her and she leaned in, thinking Finally.

An old woman with her fanny pack walks buy with her matching accessory of a husband. Both in blue jump suites. She in platinum blond hair and he in a black taupe. And she walks up without him even seeing her stride across the street. In a white flowery spring dress, hair down, light and beautiful, she says Hi. And like that, Lunch had become a date.

He hurridly puts away the Ipod, thinking she probably thinks I'm a yuppie tool, and wow, she's like spring. And in that moment winter and all it's harsh storms had melted away leaving absolutely no marks  or residue. She smiled like an opponent up to a challenge and thought, I want to make him mine.

They ordered salads and ate on the roof that afternoon. The conversation revolved around little things like work and the gym, especially since they both work in the same area and go to the same gym, but the metaphors were deeper.

He, "so, weren't we suppose to go to Yoga."
She, " Yeah, but don't you remember getting really drunk on your birthday?"

Might as well have said:

He, "I wanted to see you in tight pants and then show off"
She, "Do you remember kissing the night before when we had planned yoga?"

And they talked more and more, over salads from Cosi. He was late getting back to work and so was she, but so what. They talked about their families, their past and plans and dreams. Movies and books. Camping, music and life! The Westerly breeze cooled them from the hot sun. They sat over looing the Old Executive Offices and down to Ohio Drive, the Tidal Basin and the Jefferson Mermorial.

Life wasn't meant for tourists.

Big Life

I've spent the last week on a vacation and now I'm back. What have I come to conclude? Nothing really. It's often such a cliche that people come back from vacations with a great epithany. I got absolutely wasted and partied with my friends from High School. We were loud, at times obnoxious, and we drank a lot.

 

The two days I spent in VA beach was absolutley awesome. One night we had a blowout BBQ. Then there was the National's and Dodgers Game, the BBQ in Georgetown, the drinks on the patio, all the damn walking, Mr. Smiths, The girl with horses and a face like a cadaver. The night out in chinatown, "she's your queeeeeenn to be," the beer pong, the sea food, lots of two-buck chuck, blunts, blunts and more blunts, Angry Neighbors, free dinners, the Stamp collectors convention, Hookah in Adams Morgan and the meal at Capital Q.

 

Can't write about something if you do nothing. Now I just have to process all of it. WOW.

 

Running list of fun things I've done this summer already:

Camping at Cunningham falls

Three Red Sox games and Three Nationals games already with another one in the Diamond club on Wednesday

A night at the Opera,

Late night smores,

I'm sure there is more.

 

And I just booked my tickets for a four day trip to St. Johns (www.maho.org)

 

Life's too short to just sit around, right?

 

Been on a vacation

Sorry. I haven't written in a while. I haven't even really written in my journal either. I've been on a bit of a vacation. Mentally, I've been checked out since the parade of rejection notices. Physically I've been out of the office for the past week and away from my computer. Don't worry. I haven't been holed up in a hole of an apartment contemplating the Earth's tectonic movements (although I did catch this one show on the History Channel about a prophet that did predict large polar shifts happening dramatically soon. But haven't you ever notice Prophet sounds like Profit?).

I've actually been enjoying my summer. I've gone camping in Cunningham Falls, I've gone to the opera, happy hours, Virginia Beach, BBQs, dancing, parties and dinners. The past week has been a combination of all of the above. I am buying time. Wagering my beliefs against what is expected of me....or at least what I thought my world expected of me.

Chillax...Let's go dancing and let time stand still for a bit.