Bubble Boy

Great, yet another sandstorm hailing in from China. It basically means that the already-polluted airs over Taipei will have sand particles thrown into the mix.

I've noticed a rather disturbed downward trend in my health since moving to Taiwan.

When I got really sick last winter (2007), at the lowest point, I could barely walk half a block before my asthma kicked in and I'd have to stop and puff. I started getting allergic reactions to even the slightest foods: a doctor told me to avoid chocolate, seafood, and various types of nuts, while a Chinese doctor give me another whole list of foods to abstain from: beef, certain vegetables, mushrooms, tomatoes, etc.

It was also around then that I started developing a mild allergic reaction to certain metals, but only when my health was in bad shape (i.e., when I had a cold). When I get sick now, I have to remove my watch because my left wrist gets itchy after a while.

And after a bad bout of food poisoning early during my residence here, I discovered (in a most unfortunate way) that I'm very allergic to Tiger Balm.

The latest substance that I seem to be allergic to now is ... essential oils. Like the ones you put in the diffuser with water, and then light a tealight underneath to make your place smell habitable. Yes, I know you're not supposed to put it on you, but there was a mosquito in the place that we couldn't confirm if we killed or not, so the next step was to have the smell of lavender on us so it wouldn't come after me as I slept.

And now, I have rashes on my wrists and ankles.

I swear, it's only a matter of time before I should really just confine myself to a little bubble dome just to stay healthy.

On another note (also somewhat related to bubbles), I've recently taken a turn back to enjoying a regular dose of bubble tea. It's really too bad that, at a hefty 500kcal per 500cc cup serving, it's a craving I'll have to curb quickly.

Sniffing Out the Problem

Remember how I had that nose issue about half a year ago? Well, very mysteriously, it just went away by itself. Maybe it knew I was posting for advice about it, got freaked, and left.

And then decided to move back in again.
I smelled it again just two days ago.
Yesterday, it seemed to fade a bit.
But it smells like it's back again today.

I have a feeling that it's related to my diet, or is a cryptic symptom of my health in some way. My current hypotheses on this are:

1. Sauce.

Three days ago, I had potstickers from a popular joint just around the corner from my work. I have these pretty often, but this time I had it with chili bean sauce (豆瓣醬) -- I used to have this a lot, but some months ago, traded it in for a garlic soy sauce and/or sweet vinegar instead. Lo and behold, the next day, I guess it worked into my system and the nose thing came back!

2. Health.

I've been sick for a while in November and December -- a really nasty virus has pretty much hit everyone I know in some time or another this winter season -- and even now, we're trying hard to shake that last 5% that just won't go away. I don't remember if I was sick back in July 2007, but maybe it's related to my health at the moment.

3. Diet.

A broader generalization, perhaps it's just my diet. Or, maybe the two are related: food and health. When I'm sick or getting sick, my body has cravings for different types of foods (mainly carb-heavy stuff). So perhaps my current diet has a surplus or a deficiency in something, and that's giving me this "reminder" in my olfactory senses?

I dunno. Any thoughts or hints?

A Friendly Tip

Okay, I realize that the timing of this post is going to make it sound a little bah-humbug-ish, but it still needs to be said. I have a personal rule about tipping: if you don't provide the service, you don't get the tips.

No, no, I mean, I'll leave a tip regardless (of service), but the question is how much. And I definitely don't tip 15% as a "just because" standard: I tip 10%, and it can go either way from there based on the experience of the event.

I can hear a lot of you (certainly if you've had a job before in a service industry) who are screaming bloody murder, going,

"Waiters/waitresses/service people rely on tips to survive, since their wages are low."

Well, guess what? I don't give a sh!t if the wages suck -- they took the job and they knew how much they were going to be paid, and they knew very well that part of they livelihood relied on that tip income. So, logically, instead of just expecting a fat tip at the end, isn't really just all the more reason for them to do a good job at whatever it is they're doing??

Consider it a performance bonus: you perform (or exceed expectations*) and you get a nice bonus; if you don't, you'll know that you deserved it.

I've been in a position like that before, and no tipping was allowed, but we still did a good job.

Look, I don't mind tipping handsomely if I'm pleased with the experience, but they need something to show for it. I once spotted a cab driver an extra $20 for racing me to the airport because I was late for a flight. I've paid extra when I found service staff extremely attentive, elevating the experience of our stay at a hotel or all those kinds of things. I think that's fair.

In Taiwan, there's no tip. And taxes are included in the price: it's WYSIWYG. One might expect service in Taiwan to be fairly crappy, but the culture has been educated to a point where the service is courteous and polite (albeit it sometimes difficult to get a point across). That said, some restaurants are getting into the (horrible) habit of tacking on a 10% "service charge" for basically no reason -- the service staff don't see any of it, and the restaurant pretty much uses it to cover their basic wages instead.

Alright, let the flaming begin.
-----
* Don't forget that the quality of service is directly measured against the customer/client expectations.

Goldfish

Another great American holiday is come and gone, and in its wake has kickstarted the holiday shopping frenzy, which the United States badly needs to get some kind of money flowing around again, as the world starts to turn its back on their dollar.

We had pumpkin pie (from Costco) on Thursday afternoon as a small tribute to the festivities, and then (in true American fashion) proceeded to stuff myself on Friday, Saturday and Sunday night dinners.

And I mean, stuffed myself.
As if it were going out of style.
As if I'd been starved for a month.
As if I were 8 months pregnant. With quintuplets.

Basically, I just keep eating until my stomach was stretching to the brink of exploding half-digested foods all over the walls. (M suggested I wear a garbage bag in case it did happen, to ease the clean-up. I didn't, because if I did blow up, cleaning up wouldn't be my problem.) I keep eating until the food is gone, without any kind of normal signal from stomach to brain signifying that it's starting to hurt.

I basically eat like a goldfish.

Skill-Testing Question

I have this innate ability to confuse the young people of Taiwan.

For breakfast this morning, I walked into the 7-11 and paid for my microwaveable dumplings. As he heats them up for me, I ask in what I consider to be perfectly and easily understandable Mandarin,

"Do you have any plastic knives?"

That seemed to be all it took to hijack his cognitive abilities. He stared at me for a while as his brain ground back to life from the apparent short circuit, and as his three neurons woke up, they got to working on solving the enormous problem at hand. First, he clarified and defined the problem:

"Plastic knife?"
"Yes, plastic knife."

I was patient, and I truly wanted to help him beat this one. Plus, I figured I'd humour him. He was getting there, albeit it slower than I would have preferred.

"Plastic?"
"Plastic."
"Knife?"

At this point, I thought, we have to move faster than this. Maybe I shouldn't have given him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I should clarify it for him to move it along.

"Knife. A knife," I confirmed, while showing both my hand as a knife, and then showing a cutting action as if I were holding a knife.

He still didn't get it. Maybe he just needed some context because he was more questioning where my question came from. Perhaps another hint would clue him in.

"I see you have some disposable chopsticks and straws, and plastic forks. Do you have any plastic knives?"

His dazed gaze lowered from me over to the containers of disposable utensils by the till. In a stupendous display of the kind of stupidity that would make him second only to a certain current American president, he reached over and fondled a plastic fork (in its individual packaging). It took several seconds, but eventually, the three overclocked neurons conjured up some additional speech.

"No, we just have plastic forks."

That, of course, wasn't true -- I had just noted to him that they also had chopsticks and such -- but it was enough of an answer that I just accepted it and moved on.

That is by far not the first time I've ever confused the youth of Taiwan (in service positions) with simple questions. Once, at a "Japanese" restaurant around the corner from work, while trying to decipher the disorganized lunch menu, I inquired about their lunch offerings:

"What noodle soups do you have?"

The boy drew his finger down the menu, and his answer was swift and confident ...

"Five."

... but missed the point, and wrong anyway. There were 4.

"No no, what kind of noodle soups do you have?"

But I quickly stopped and decided to give up on it. I picked a noodle soup item that I saw out of the menu.

"What's in the '[undescriptive name] noodle soup'?"

And that did it: I crashed the boy's brain. He stood there, rebooting his head, and mustered a small response.

"I don't know."

A rather long pause followed. I suppose he was expecting me to take that non-answer and run with it. I didn't. He waited, pencil poised to take my order, ready for me to run with that non-answer. I still didn't. He waited a bit more, and then I won out:

"I'll ... uh ... go ask."

And there it was, the next logical step in providing service. But I had had enough fun for the day, and stopped him as he was about to walk off and ask. I just ordered that dish. And when it came, I wished I hadn't (a) stopped him, and (b) ordered the dish.

These are not, unfortunately, isolated incidents. The young people of Taiwan are dropped IQ points like deuces, and they've long lost the ability to even realize they are.

Hungry

Monday morning, I'm at work (ugh), and I'm starving.
When you're this hungry, what do you normally crave?
Sadly, my craving is most often for burgers or pasta.
Perhaps it's time to make some homemade lasagna again.

In Season

Was just sitting here, staring at the crazy summer heat outside, wishing I had some pineapple to savour, when I recalled a conversation from a few months ago.

The spring air was getting warmer and I was looking forward to mango ice in the summertime, but felt like we had somehow missed the pineapple season ... and yet, I couldn't be exactly sure, because I had no idea when they were supposed to be in season anyhow.

Turning to M, I asked,

"Say, when are pineapples in season?"

She was quiet for a second, presumably pondering the answer and formulating it in small and simple words so that I could understand it. And then, matter-of-factly, forth came her response:

"When they have lots of them for cheap at the supermarket."

I sometimes wonder why I bother.

Tonight's Menu

It's been a while since I've tried my hand in the kitchen, but here goes nothin'.

The menu for tonight* will be a chef's coupling of seared sea scallops with tropical salsa and with lime butter, paired with asparagus tips.

(I might consider a third or fourth style to make a scallop trio. Better yet, I think I need one that's a little stronger in flavour, like a red pepper sauce if I can find it pre-made somewhere.)

Dessert will be pan-roasted caramelized peaches or with blueberries too, depending on how adventurous I feel.

And I haven't decided what kind of appetizer to serve yet.

---
* It's been two years thus far. The ironic part is that, for the record, she insisted that we choose a specific date as an anniversary, and yet, she's completely forgotten ... and, when I mentioned it to her, even wondered if today was the date.

Not a Repeat Customer

Yesterday, I managed to hit all the green lights on the way to work, and found myself with some 10 minutes before I had to punch in -- and yes, I have to punch in at my current work. So I decided to treat myself (as a serendipitous reward for riding recklessly fast) to some soy milk at one of the few local joints I could find that served it.

I order a hot soy milk, and a girl behind the counter gets right on it.
I order a baked biscuit/pancake with egg, and a big burly man cracks the egg onto the frying surface and re-toasts the biscuit. I see that he has big forearms (matching an even bigger stomach), and decide I'll have a rice ball to round off such a hearty breakfast of (grease) champions.

Pause for a second while I explain the cognitive process.

These rice balls (飯團) are actually semi-sticky rice which are wrapped around Chinese fried donuts (油條) and pickled veggies and fried&dried pork (肉鬆) and other things I can't identify (and, knowing Chinese food, possibly wouldn't want to). They spread the rice over a damp cloth, lay the fillings on top, and then wrap the cloth up and compact everything into a tight and cohesive rice meal. Because of the compacting action, you need a guy who has big forearms for that rice-crushing power.

It's tasty. (You don't get to keep the cloth.)

So ... I order a rice ball. The burly man starts to move, and then calls someone to make a rice ball for me. Enter stage right, an old lady of about 70 years, who probably weighs about as much as my left leg, preparing a damp cloth in her hand.

Please understand that as a general preference,

I don't want my rice balls handled by elderly Asian women.

The resulting thing was a bag of practically loose rice with an old fried donut (the kind they couldn't serve alone without disguising it somehow) and some mysterious fishy meat product from a jar (into which I absolutely swear I saw her put bits of stuff from the table as she was wiping it earlier).

And the soy milk wasn't any better.
I'm definitely not going back there again.