Things That Make A Grown Man Weep

Preface: I'm high as a kite on Vicodin right now! So I can't be held responsible for anything I say or do from this point forward. If this post sounds like the incoherent random ramblings of a 2-year-old, I apologize. Although on the other hand, if this post turns out to be one of the best things I've ever written, I may want to rethink living a clean lifestyle.

We all know that women are the more emotional sex. Some women cry while watching "The Notebook." Some women cry when they can no longer fit into their favorite pair of jeans. And some women cry when they are PMSing and there is no chocolate in sight (actually they don't cry, but rather murder at that point). Whatever the reason may be, we accept that fact that girls cry (fairly easy and often) and boys don’t. Or at least that is what we are taught to believe - that boys don’t cry. However I’m here to tell you that in fact they do, even if they refuse to admit it. We joke around with our buddies and tell them to let it all out, to go have a good mancry so they feel better. The term "mancry" was coined for a good reason though. Guys cry in complete seclusion because society has ingrained in us since birth that crying is for girls and REAL men don’t cry. Although I certainly don’t walk around with my heart on my sleeve and blubbering like a wet mess, I see no shame in crying. Grief is an expression that you loved well. If a man’s eyes well up on a rare occasion and a woman considers him a "pussy" for that, well then perhaps she feels that way because nobody has ever loved her enough to shed a tear over her.

For most guys, it is a very rare event, but for me there have been a few occasions that have sparked a snowflake to appear in my eye...

• Giving the eulogy at my best friend’s funeral.
• Making the decision of putting my childhood dog down after 18 years.
• Watching my sister walk down the isle in her wedding dress.
• Having my girlfriend break-up with me as I was about to propose.

Did you notice the pattern here? All of these events sparked a tearful reaction in me because they all had to deal with matters of the heart. They all had to do with me losing someone I loved. Like my Bulldog, I too am tough on the outside, soft on the inside. I can deal with a certain amount of emotional pain, but once it surpasses my threshold, I may start to develop that lump in my throat and that burning sensation behind my eyes. Although when it comes to physical pain, I can take anything you throw at me! Afterall, I'm an amature MMA fighter. They don't come any tougher than that, right? WRONG!

Growing up I was a Crest kid. I never even had a single cavity until I was 20 years old! At the time, I had the cavity filled by our family dentist who was old skool and apparently not the best. The guy didn't give me enough Novocain even when I told him I was in immense pain and could feel everything he was doing! I sat in that chair sweating and squirming. Praying and cursing. From that day on, I was scared of the dentist and rightfully so. Still, like a good boy, I went to see a (new) dentist every 6 months for checkups because nobody wants a dirty mouth full of rotten teeth and halitosis. As the years went by everything was fine and dandy. It was all rainbows and butterflies in my mouth, that was until I developed a tooth ache this past weekend. But not just any minor tooth ache, one that shoots pain the whole way down your neck, bitch slaps you across the face and punches you in your your eye socket! Pain so severe that I contemplated pulling a Tom Hank's "Cast Away" move and yanking that sucker myself, just to end my suffering. Long story short, I called my dentist to make an appointment in which he told me with a "oh this is going to be fun" smirk on his face that I needed to get a root canal.

A root canal? A ROOT CANAL! How could someone who only had one cavity in their entire life all the sudden need a f-ing root canal? That's what bad people who don't brush their teeth get done, not Crest kids like myself! Apparently though the cavity I had filled years ago had fallen apart and now the only way to repair it was to do an evil root canal.

It should be illegal for one human to inflict that much pain on another human. It's what horror movies like "Saw" are made of. I swear I've never felt that much pain in my life! Kick me repeatedly in the balls, put bamboo shoots under my fingernails, or make me watch a marathon of "The View" on TV, but whatever you do please don't let me endure another root canal! It's beyond torturous and nearly made this grown man weep. No matter how much Novocain the dentist gave me, it didn't help. He was jabbing and digging at a live nerve for a solid hour! The sickening smell of tooth and bone being drilled and grinded. Tooth and bone fragments flying onto my chest and blood squirting out the sides of my face. Bits and pieces of live nerve being pulled from my jaw and laid out on a stainless steel dish before me. Would he later serve this to me as an appetizer? If he did, it wouldn't surprise me because I felt like I was part of a twisted Jeffery Dahmer experiment.

Of course the nervous, rookie dentist assistant wasn't helping the situation either. Her hands were shaking while fumbling with tools. Apologizing profusely for her mistakes and constantly asking for someone else to help her wasn't exactly comforting to hear. My body actually began to physically tremble from the pain. I wasn't about to cry! Surely it couldn't get any worse, but then it would! By the time the root canal was over, I got up feeling dizzy with the back of my shirt soaked in sweat. I wanted to run out of his office, with arms flailing and screaming, vowing never to return. Oh course I didn't do that. I manned up. He extends his hand and says "Well that wasn't so bad now, was it?" He's joking, but it took everything in my power not to punch him right in the suck hole for that smartass remark. But instead of a handshake, I just need a hug...and maybe a good mancry to make me feel better.

For now though, I'm enjoying my prescribed pain medicine - Vicodin. It puts me in a happy place. A place far, far away from the depraved dentist chair. And last night while I was high on Vicoden, I saw my favorite pair of blue eyes smiling at me in my sleep. It was nearly enough to make a grown man weep.

Dish on Dining: Vanessa’s Bistro

A Twist on Vietnamese Dining
1715 Solano Ave., Berkeley
Solano Avenue neighborhood
PH: 510.525.8300
Lunch, Thu. and Fri., noon–2:30 p.m.; dinner from 4 p.m. daily except Tuesday
Reservations, major credit cards accepted
www.vanessasbistro.com

During my Mom’s visit, we did break from our parade of Chinese restaurants to try Vanessa’s Bistro in the Solano Avenue business district in Berkeley. I usually can convince her to try something like Vietnamese because it’s still in the general Asian-food-with-rice family.

Vanessa’s has been open for awhile, and has created a buzz for its home-style Vietnamese dishes served tapas style (or small plates). Vanessa’s is also a mom-and-daughter establishment with Vanessa’s mom generally working the kitchen (although she wasn’t behind the stove the night we dined).

The dining room is contemporary with Vietnamese touches, but I was surprised to find that the seating area for regular diners seemed to be dwarfed by the huge bar and outdoor seating in front. Still, we got a table for four along the side (my sister who was traveling with my mom and my nephew’s girlfriend rounded out the party).

The menu offers bits of familiar Vietnamese dishes like shaking beef but in small portions and with added ingredients to put Vanessa’s creative touch to them. We decided to order a few dishes to eat family style, which seemed like a good idea. But turns out that some of the dishes were too small to share among four people. You’ll see what I mean.

We started with an heirloom tomato salad ($7) that was one of the specials of the night. The heirloom tomatoes, which were meaty and fresh, were buried by a mountain of crumbled cheese. Still, the salad (which also included artichoke hearts) was something my sister and I craved after days of dining out.

The Salt and Pepper Fried Calamari ($8) also came buried under a pile of sautéed vegetables. (Not sure what it is about Vanessa’s presentation but she seems to hide the main ingredient.) This dish, which came in a cute bamboo steamer, was mostly for my Mom, who loves fried foods. I tried one just to see what it was like, and while the calamari looked pale rather than golden brown, it was tender. My Mom really liked the preparation.

Another starter was the Tuna and Salmon Poke ($9), which I’m sure my sister ordered because she wanted a feel of home (they live in Hawaii). The raw tuna and salmon were mixed with avocado and mango chunks and served with a ginger-tomato salsa. I thought everything worked nicely together, and liked the added twist of mango to what is typically tuna tartar at other restaurants.

Some of our meat dishes (which still came as small plates) included the Maple Leaf Duck Confit Lettuce Wraps ($9). The tender duck pieces were buried once again in crushed peanuts. We grabbed them and wrapped them in the lettuce leaves with a piece of basil, then dipped the wrap in the accompanying fish sauce concoction. The duck was tender and the flavors were light and fresh.

The Claypot with Chicken and Prawns ($10) was OK, but I didn’t feel the flavors of the chicken or prawns (and added bok choy and mushrooms) blended into the rice. It felt like the dish was cooked in another pot and then poured into the claypot for display, not really allowing the juices of all the ingredients to meld together.

We also ordered the Rack of Lamb ($20), which came from the specials menu. The dish was made up of two pieces of chops that were glazed. The lamb was a little on the tough side, and since there were only two pieces, it meant not everyone at the table could get a taste of the lamb (although we were polite and pretended like we couldn’t finish one chop).

We also got a side of green beans with tofu ($7) that came with a special sauce. The sauce wasn’t necessarily very special, but the dish was hearty and a nice complement to make up for the small lamb plate.

Vanessa’s offers quite a bit of desserts, so we ordered two to share at our table. One was the Banana Fosters made with rum and topped with a coconut-caramel sauce. Funny, but I don’t really recall tasting a strong coconut flavor, but when you have warm bananas with ice cream, how bad can that be?

We also ordered the special pear tart for the day. The plate, served with vanilla ice cream, looked pretty and the pear pieces were nicely lined in a pattern. But I felt the pear wasn’t tender enough.

As we ate, more people came in for dinner and the noise level became horrendous. We could barely hear ourselves, which seemed odd since the place didn’t necessarily have high ceilings. I think it’s just the acoustics of the floor arrangement or something, but it’s one of the noisiest places I’ve eaten at, and I generally can zone out the noise. (But then again I’m usually eating alone and not worrying about talking!)

In the end, though, my Mom was impressed by the food, which is saying a lot because she’s not the type that eats outside her comfort zone. So I guess Vanessa’s does offer something different when you need a change from the routine.

Single guy rating: 3.25 stars (Bits of diversity)

Explanation of the single guy's rating system:
1 star = perfect for college students
2 stars = perfect for new diners
3 stars = perfect for foodies
4 stars = perfect for expense accounts
5 stars = perfect for any guy's dream dinner



Other Vietnamese dining reviews:
Rang Dong: “Vietnamese Cuisine that’s Hard to Pin Down”
Out the Door: “Dressed Up Street Food at Restaurant Prices”
Turtle Tower: “A Local Favorite Serving up Steaming Bowls of Pho”

My Deepest, Darkest Secret

During depression the world disappears. Language itself. One has nothing to say. For years I never thought I would talk about certain taboo topics, like my battle with depression and my suicide attempt at a very young age. I kept that secret locked up inside of me for over 15 years! And I felt that if I ever decided to come clean with it, I would only tell someone in complete confidence, like a therapist, just to get it off my chest. But then one day, about a year ago, I had an epiphany. I knew I wanted to get it off my chest, but realized that sharing it so privately with just one other person would only help me. I wanted to do greater good than that. The way I saw it, I wanted to help other people that felt like me - other people who had walked in similar shoes. So that is why I decided to share it with the world and post about it publicly on my blog.

Suicide is one of those taboo topics that nobody wants to talk about. We like to pretend that it doesn’t exist. However, taboo topics need a voice because if we can't talk about things, we can't learn. And if we can't learn, how will we ever grow? Silence is more deafening than any sound. So speak up and speak out! In celebration for tomorrow's (Oct 6) release of Frank Warren's new book PostSecret: Confessions on Life Death and God, I'm reposting a portion of a post I wrote roughly one year ago.

FACT: More than 32,000 suicides occur in the U.S. This is the equivalent of 89 suicides per day. That’s one suicide every 16 minutes! Many who attempt suicide never seek professional care. This is my story.

I was barely 12-years-old when I became suicidal. A calm had come over me. After feeling like I was suffocating for so long, I could finally breathe again. I was choosing to end it all and I was at peace with that decision. If you’ve ever been there, you can relate to the feeling. My first attempt was immediately after school. I felt the most effective method would be to shoot myself. There was only one problem - we never had a handgun or any other type of firearm in our house. So shooting myself was scratched off the list. I thought about hanging myself, but I couldn’t find any rope in the garage. I even thought about ODing on some pills. However, that seemed lame to me. With my luck, I would just end up with a sick stomach that would need pumped at the hospital. The main goal here was to succeed. If I failed, not only would I have to live with that failure, but I would have to live in general. My family, my friends and my entire school would find out how messed up I was. I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t face the amount of humiliation that would come with not only feeling like a failure in life, but also having a failed suicide attempt tied to myself as well. At the time, in my eyes, the measure of a true failure was one who even failed when trying to kill himself.

I had stepped off the bus and walked straight into my parent’s kitchen. My Mom often complained that she never had a good, sharp set of knives. So I decided if I were to slice my wrists, I would need to put some muscle in it. I was clueless as to which was the best way to do it – to slice vertically or horizontally. I figured I would do both, just to make sure. I took out a steak knife that I usually ate dinner with and began digging it into my flesh. A small freckle became the bullseye and I used it as my marked target to begin. I stabbed the tip in and ran the serrated edged of the blade along my 12-year-old skin. I cut into the inner side of both arms. Multiple times. In all directions. Halfway up to my elbows. When the blood began to pour, all I thought about was it staining the countertop. I didn’t want my Mom to be angry at me for making a mess. For whatever reason, it never dawned on me that a blood stained countertop would be the least of her worries if I were lying lifeless on the kitchen floor when she arrived home from work.

I couldn’t see that far ahead. I couldn’t look rationally at the situation. I couldn’t foresee into the future as to what the impact of my actions would be on those that loved me. I guess I figured they would grieve, but I couldn’t fathom the tremendous turmoil I would throw my family in. All the unanswered questions I would leave them with. The guilt, the sadness, the anger. I wasn’t aware how they would harbor these emotions for years to come. I was ignorant to the fact that with just a few more slices, I would change their world forever...and I would end mine forever. It was a selfish act. A permanent solution to what I realize now looking back, were only temporary problems. During your pre-teen years, everything seems like the end of the world.

I suppose this is around the time most people have some sort of religious or spiritual awaking in their life. I however, returned to the basics. Back to what gave me comfort growing up. I began to write again, but not with pen and paper this time. I set the notebook aside and began a virtual notebook. I began the very blog you read now.

...continue reading the full/original post from
9/5/08 - The Things I Can’t Speak About, Let Alone Write About

A Summer of Pisco Sour

I’ve talked about how the pisco sour is my favorite drink of the moment. It’s partly because of the presentation of egg whites whipped into a foam and partly because pisco was banned in this country until a couple of years ago.

The pisco sour is the national drink of Peru and is pretty popular in other parts of South America as well. I had my first one in Buenos Aires. The main components of a pisco sour are lemon or lime juice combined with egg whites and, of course, pisco, which is a grape brandy. It’s topped off with dots of bitters, usually Angostura bitters.

Pisco also has a connection with San Francisco, which made a once-popular drink called the pisco punch. It’s a fun drink too, but I’m still a pisco sour fan.

So much of a fan that this past summer I decided to go on the search for the best pisco sour in the Bay Area. And luckily, I found a few bars serving this drink up. How many actually served it up right is another story.

Now that summer is over, here’s my list of pisco sours I’ve tried and how they ranked. I should make clear that I’m not an expert on what is a true pisco sour since I didn’t grow up in Peru, but I’m giving you my impressions of which drink was the most balanced and tasty, and in a way took me away to Peru.

I ranked each drink on presentation, authenticity and taste, on a scale of 1 to 5. I found the pisco sour at nine locations, and here they are, starting with the bottom on my list:

Levende East, 827 Washington St. (at 8th), Oakland. 510.835.5585
Cost: $9, Overall rating: 2.5

Presentation: 3.0
Authenticity: 2.0
Taste: 3.0

Notes: This drink threw me off a bit because it was finished without the traditional bitters on top, not even one dot, and it was served with ice cubes. It tasted fine but for some reason without the bitters and with the added ice cubes, it made me feel like I was drinking a margarita, especially with the lime garnish.

La Furia Chalaca, 310 Broadway, Oakland. 510.451.4206
Cost: $9, Overall rating: 2.75

Presentation: 2.75
Authenticity: 2.75
Taste: 3.0

Notes: You would think this Peruvian restaurant would serve up an authentic pisco sour, and if this is how it is, then my idea of a pisco sour is totally off. The drink was served with grated cinnamon instead of the bitters, and I felt the brand of pisco used was especially strong and not very smooth. The multi-colored straws didn’t really say sophistication either.

Absinthe, 398 Hayes St. (at Gough), San Francisco, 415.551.1590
Cost: $9, Overall rating: 2.75

Presentation: 3.0
Authenticity: 2.5
Taste: 2.5

Notes: People raved to me about the pisco sour at the longtime popular restaurant bar, but I have to say the drink was sloppily made, with the bitters drizzled on top without the dots I typically see. Plus, the egg whites dominated the drink and never really separated to reveal the pisco. The pisco also tasted strong, just like whisky. I did appreciate how the drink was served very cold, which makes it a great summer drink.

Five, 2086 Allston Way (at Shattuck), Berkeley. 510.225.6055
Cost: $10, Overall rating: 3.0

Presentation: 2.5
Authenticity: 2.5
Taste: 3.25

Notes: Served in a short champagne glass, Five’s version also had an unusual pattern on top using the bitters, making almost an abstract design. Beyond that, I thought the bitters looked unusually red instead of the typical rust color and the bartender looked like it was the first time he made one in a long while as he went about looking for an egg to whip up the whites.

Pisco Latin Lounge, 1817 Market St., San Francisco. 415.874.9951.
Cost: $9, Overall rating: 3.25

Presentation: 3.25
Authenticity: 3.0
Taste: 3.25

Notes: I had high hopes for the pisco sour at Pisco Latin Lounge. I mean, come on, it has pisco in its name. But it turned an odd twist when the bartender served it with a happy face on top, and then the egg foam never really settled or separated. Also, the particular pisco used was especially strong and didn’t balance well with the overall drink.

Adesso, 4395 Piedmont Ave. (at Pleasant Valley), Oakland. 510.601.0305
Cost: $7, Overall rating: 3.5

Presentation: 3.5
Authenticity: 3.0
Taste: 3.5

Notes: It was served in a really beautiful curved tumbler and the bartender grated nutmeg on top and added the bitters in front of me, which is a nice touch although I wasn’t sure about the nutmeg. The taste was nice and balanced but there were bits of chipped ice in the drink, which I find distracting.

Alembic Bar, 1725 Haight St., San Francisco. 415.666.0822
Cost: $10, Overall rating: 3.75

Presentation: 3.5
Authenticity: 3.5
Taste: 4.0

Notes: The drink was served up in a glass like what you’d serve bear, so not as elegant as others I’ve had, but I thought it was creative how they made a pattern with the bitters (I’m not always totally against unusual patterns with the bitters as long as it looks nice and not sloppy). The taste was a nice balance but overall a bit lukewarm. It could have been more refreshing.

Nopa, 560 Divisadero St., San Francisco. 415.864.8643
Cost: $9, Overall rating: 4.0

Presentation: 4.5
Authenticity: 3.75
Taste: 4.0

Notes: This is one pisco sour I can drink again and again. Nopa puts their own spin with a pattern created by the swirl of the bitter spots, and it’s served up in a martini glass, looking very classy and refreshing. The taste is balanced and quite a bit of a drink, even in a martini glass.

La Mar Cebicheria Peruana, Pier 1.5, The Embarcadero, San Francisco. 415.397.8880
Cost: $5 (Happy hour, 4-6 p.m.), Overall rating: 4.5

Presentation: 4.5
Authenticity: 4.5
Taste: 4.5

Notes: So La Mar is where I found the best version in the Bay Area, looking like what I think a pisco sour should be, with the perfect foam and bitter dashes. This restaurant from Peru serves up its pisco sour in a simple tumbler. The taste was also refreshingly cool with a very balanced pisco and sour combination. It helps that the price is right during happy hour.

Honorable mention: One of my favorite pisco sours I tried this summer was actually in New York when I dined at Eleven Madison Park. This luxurious restaurant also serves up a luxurious pisco sour. What was so unique about this version was the pure frothiness and creaminess of the egg whites and pisco. It was like drinking a smooth liquid custard. I found it very enjoyable even at its high price of $11.

Dish on Dining: Hong Kong Flower Lounge

Going Beyond Your Average Dim Sum
51 Millbrae Ave. (at El Camino Real), Millbrae
Near Millbrae BART
PH: 650.692.6666
Open daily for dim sum, lunch and dinner
Reservations (for dinner or large parties for dim sum), major credit cards accepted
www.mayflower-seafood.com

MILLBRAE
I just realized that a couple of the restaurants I took my Mom to last week had a distant link to the once popular Hong Kong Flower Lounge. Earlier this week I blogged about our dinner at Hong Kong Lounge (in the former spot of Hong Kong Flower Lounge of San Francisco), and today I’m going to talk about our dim sum adventure at Hong Kong Flower Lounge in Millbrae.

Even though this restaurant has kept the name of the popular restaurant from the late 1980s, it’s been under the ownership of the Mayflower Group, another Hong Kong chain, for the last two years. Still, it’s retained a lot of the look and charm of a traditional Hong Kong tea house.

We had a real family dim sum experience last Saturday when I went with my Mom, my uncle and aunt who lives in San Leandro, and my aunt and cousin, who were visiting from Los Angeles. Hong Kong Flower Lounge remains a popular spot for dim sum, so there was a crowd waiting for tables when we arrived at noon. (They have a large dining area on two floors, and what looks like an ante room in the front bar/lounge area.)

But what was interesting was I noticed that people don’t seem to have much patience. When numbers were called, many of the parties had already given up and left. (I’m guessing some went to the nearby Fook Yuen, another popular dim sum spot just a block north on El Camino Real, or The Kitchen, also in Millbrae.) Whatevs, this just meant our wait for a table for six was maybe 20-30 minutes. (Yes, it’s no where near the crazy crowds of Koi Palace in Daly City.)

Dim sum at Hong Kong Flower Lounge are pushed around in carts or carried around on trays by servers. (Prices are $2.60 for small plates, $3.20 for medium plates, $4 for large plates, and $6 for special orders.) You can also make special requests with your server, which is actually how my family went. Lucky for me, my aunt and cousin from Los Angeles are originally from Hong Kong (just like my Mom) and they still live there half the time of the year.

So they ordered a few dishes that I’ve never tried before. Even without their orders, I found some interesting looking dim sum in the carts that I’ve never seen at other restaurants or even on my previous visits here (I’ve eaten dim sum here in the past under previous management). So thumbs up for the variety at the current Hong Kong Flower Lounge.

One of the first items my Mom ordered was the joong, which is boiled sticky rice with filling. I don’t know if my Mom ordered two orders or if this was just one, but everyone at our table was amazed by the size. It was also very tasty, with the fresh rice infused with the flavors of Chinese sausages, chicken, mushrooms and salted duck egg.

As you walk in to the main dining room, there’s a cook station where a server is prepping some of the specialty fried dishes, like very thin crepes made into pancakes. We got an order of the scallion pancakes, which is actually a Northern Chinese specialty. I didn’t try it because it looked oily, and most of my family agreed that it wasn’t the best.

There were tons of fried stuff to be eaten because my Mom, unlike me, doesn’t discriminate against deep-fried or fatty foods. So she ordered things like a plate of Chinese-style fried chicken wings and was easily convinced by a server to try the fried sea mullet fish. The fried mullet didn’t look very appetizing because somehow it was fried but the crispy exterior remained snow white. I did try one piece out of curiosity, and while the fish was tender, it wasn’t very crispy.

We did get a few regular dim sum dishes, such as siu mai or shrimp-pork dumplings (my standby), meatballs (my cousin’s standby), and cheong fun or flat noodles with barbeque pork filling. All of these were fresh and good, but as expected and not exceptional.

I should note that we had an excellent server who spoke Cantonese to my family and joked around with my relatives. I’m guessing this isn’t the typical service at Hong Kong Flower Lounge because I have to say I saw a lot of tables get ignored or people sitting around with no food. So while I felt like our table was special, I did wonder what the experience would be if we didn’t speak Chinese?

Just something to keep in mind in this bloodsport of dim sum dining.

Back to the food: we also had two varieties of savory pudding cakes. Typically you’ll see the pan-fried turnip cakes, but our family likes to eat it steamed (which most dim sum restaurants don’t bother doing because they think Americans like everything fried). It was served in a cute ramekin and I really enjoyed the freshness of the grated daikon mixed with the various ingredients. My cousin prefers the mai tai gou, which is like the turnip cakes but is made with water chestnuts instead.

Another special item requested by my aunt from Hong Kong was called lo bok sou, which is like the turnip cakes except it’s made like a turnover. We saw something similar in the carts, but my aunt didn’t like the filling in that version so the waiter put in an order for us. It took awhile, but when it came out it was piping hot and the turnip filling was sweet and tender. I really enjoyed this and will remember to ask for this in the future.

My other aunt had a craving for the ginger pickled pig’s feet. I know, only someone raised on this can really have a craving for this dish, which is customarily served at the one-month birthday parties for Chinese children. The dish consists of pig hooves marinated and stewed in a sweet ginger sauce with boiled eggs. The bowl came in the typical dark brown soup. I didn’t try this dish.

Near the end of our lunch, my Mom ordered a claypot rice dish. Again, this took awhile to come out but when it did, it was amazing. The rice was cooked with large pieces of chicken and shiitake mushroom. The rice was so fresh and fragrant. My uncle kept marveling at the price — just $4 — and kept saying how he would be happy to come to dim sum and just order this dish. (He also noted how pissed off the servers would be if he held a table just eating this one dish.)

I think because we ate so many rice-based dishes, we were pretty full. Of course, that didn’t stop my Mom from ordering two joong (the sweet versions) that she was going to carry on her flight back home to Hawaii the next day. (The total for our table was about $75, which is excellent for six people.)

Through the years, Hong Kong Flower Lounge has been a gathering place for families on the Peninsula. Its kitchen continues to produce fresh and decent dim sum that’s always satisfying and in a few instances, revelatory. They have some interesting dishes that go beyond the typical dim sum varieties. You just need to ask.

Single guy rating: 3.5 stars (A little something different)

Explanation of the single guy's rating system:
1 star = perfect for college students
2 stars = perfect for new diners
3 stars = perfect for foodies
4 stars = perfect for expense accounts
5 stars = perfect for any guy's dream dinner



Other dim sum reviews:
Asian Pearl: Dim Sum that Offers Few Jewels
Koi Palace: Dim Sum Gem Still Going Strong
King of Kings: The Working Man’s (or Woman’s) Dim Sum Joint”

Not Feeling So Creative at Creations

You wouldn’t think Chinese people have a sweet tooth if you look at the scarcity of desserts offered up on menus. Chinese dinners typically end with fresh fruit (in Asia) and fortune cookies (in Americanized Chinese restaurants in the United States).

But Creations Dessert House is trying to buck that trend, selling a variety of Asian-style desserts day and night. This restaurant (it’s more like a café) is part of a Hong Kong-based chain called Hui Lau Shan (named after the founder). Its first U.S. outpost is on Geary Boulevard in San Francisco’s outer Richmond neighborhood.

I took my Mom and sister to Creations for an afternoon snack during their visit last week. The exterior really looked like some place in Hong Kong with its fiery dragons and red-and-gold motif. Inside, it looked like a frozen yogurt shop with the pastel colors and flat-screen TV.

The menu is this big placard showing photos of the desserts and teensy-weensy printing of the names and descriptions. This was horror to my eyes. (I mean, really, 8 point font? Seriously?)

The offerings are broken up into categories representing common Chinese dessert types: bird’s nest (dessert made with the popular Chinese soup ingredient), crystal snow (think snow cones), glutinous rice balls (like Japanese mochi), sago (tapioca pearls) and anything mango.

It did seem a bit overwhelming, even though the photos all looked the same because most of the desserts were topped with mixed fruits that looked all the same. Out of pure exasperation, I just went with something from the Mango Mania section because I love mango. So I ordered the Sago in Mango Juice with Extra Mango ($4.50).

My sister felt the same pressures and also ordered from the mango section, but she went for the Black Glutinous Rice in Coconut Juice with Extra Mango ($4.50). My Mom went off menu and ordered the Black Sesame Juice with Glutinous Rice Balls ($5.50), something my dad used to make fresh for us (the black sesame, not the rice balls).

Our orders arrived and the bowls looked pretty big, although somewhat sloppily assembled by our young server. My mango dessert was OK, although the mangoes weren’t super sweet. I liked my sister’s mango dessert better because of the contrast with the black sticky rice (similar to desserts found at Thai restaurants). Both our desserts are served cold and my Mom’s was warm. The black sesame juice or pudding was nice but I liked the full body in my dad’s version. Creations’ version seemed a bit thinned out.

Side note: I also ordered a glass of watermelon juice ($2.95) that was really refreshing, and my Mom—unlike me—ordered the special fried turnovers filled with cheese and crab meat. She will eat anything fried.

It took a long time for the fried crab turnovers to arrive, but it looked fresh and the skin was crunchy. They were like fried won tons. (I tried one so I could tell you guys about it.) Unfortunately, the filling was gross. And I rarely use that word in food reviews, but it was, mostly because the cheese was some processed cheese that was so watery it reminded my sister of mayonnaise. And my Mom complained that there wasn’t enough crab meat to really get a crab flavor.

Creations has been open for awhile and it’s starting to show some wear and tear. While generally clean, it just feels a bit tired. And what’s odd is that they serve their dessert with plastic utensils. (I think they do have regular flatware but maybe the servers are too lazy to wash them so they just pass out the plastic ones, which are tiny.)

Creations is a nice idea because Asian-style desserts can hit the spot when you have the sweet tooth. But it’s kind of hit and miss depending on who’s serving you at that moment. Without much competition, I can’t really see it improving much.

Creations Dessert House, 5217 Geary Blvd. (between 16th and 17th Streets), San Francisco. PH: 415.668.8812 www.creationsdessert.com

Other sweet posts:
Georgetown Cupcakes (Washington, D.C.)
What’s Up at Fentons
Lush Gelato

You Don't Adapt To NYC, It Adopts You

"These streets will make you feel brand new. Big lights will inspire you."
(download: Jay-Z featuring Alicia Keys - Empire State of Mind.mp3)

The concrete jungle is where dreams are made. There is no other city like it in the world. And there is no other place in the world I would rather be. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. So cliché, but so true! And this NY is just one of the many reasons why I love you.

It’s dubbed as the city that never sleeps. Where the cost of living is high, the living space is cramped, and life moves at the speed of light. Where the competition is steep in the corporate world and even steeper in the dating world...unless of course you’re a young bachelor, then New York becomes your playground. Sorry ladies, but the number of single women heavily outweighs the number of single men in NYC, making your love life resemble a disastrous episode of "Sex And The City."

NYC is not for everyone, but for over 8 million people, it is home. And for millions more, it’s the place they one day dream of calling home, which is precisely why I love this photo (shown above.) Several years ago, during my first ever trip to NYC, I took this photo of a deserted bench in Central Park. I came across it during a mid-October stroll and there was just something about it that stopped me dead in my tracks. It had this gravitational pulling power over me. Framed by colorful crackling leaves and the crisp autumn air, it invites you to come take a seat. To relax your weary legs and unwind your mind. Quiet and peaceful. An escape from the noisy, bustling streets. It was an invitation I couldn't resist.

I sat down on the bench, running my hand over the wooden knots, my fingertips through the metal etching. I saw immense beauty in this bench. The blistering of the forest green paint and the small heart-shapped carvings left by past teenage lovers only gave it more character. I decided to capture it's beauty. Not the best photograph I've ever snapped, but one of my all-time favorite photos. And for whatever reason, a photo I've never shared with anyone, until now.

I know the metal plaque was meant to be nothing more than a simple advertisement for CentralParkNYC.org, but yet I felt like it was meant for me. Like a subliminal message, it spoke to me. Or maybe it was saying exactly what "I" wanted to say to the city - please adopt me!

Make no mistake about it. NY is the city that can chew you up and spit you out faster than you can whistle for a cab. But despite that well known fact, we continue to have big hopes and even bigger dreams. To have a NY state of mind, people say you must adapt to life living in the city. But how can you adapt to something that is forever changing? I say you can never truly adapt. And what you may feel like is adaptation, is really the moment in time in which you are adopted. It’s the day NYC takes you in and calls you one of its own. So now the big question...

Will it adopt you? Or beat you like the unwanted, redheaded stepchild that you are?