Let the Hunger Games begin!

Juice cleanses have intrigued me for a while, mostly because celebrities do it and they are fabulous and I want to be fabulous too.  I have been hesitant to try one though because (a) they are expensive and I don’t want to plunk down big bucks for something I may vomit up later and (b) I have the willpower of a sloth.  Enter cousin KCool1.  KCool1 has done the BluePrint cleanse before and just bought 2 GiltCity vouchers for the 3 day cleanse.  She intended to use both of them herself but when she found out I was interested, she so graciously offered to sell one voucher to me.  This seemed like a great idea!  I would get the cleanse at a discount (score!) and I would have a juicing buddy to encourage me through the process. 

Juice for one day

The 3 day juice cleanse does not mean just 3 days of juice.  It entails 3 days of pre-cleanse and 3 days of post-cleanse, which basically means going vegan for these 6 days so as not to shock your system into and out of the juice.  I cheated a little since Chipotle’s salad dressing is a honey vinaigrette…but really it was only a small amount and come on, honey?!  What could ever be wrong with honey??

Day 1

9:36 Juice 1 – “Green Juice” Romaine, Celery, Cucumber, Apple, Spinach, Kale, Parsley, Lemon.  It is really green, but not as bad as I thought.  Smells worse than it tastes.  Tastes very clean, like a salad with fruit in it.  It actually is quite refreshing after spending 30 minutes in the sweaty, humid subway.  Everyone at work is eager to see me suffer my progress. 

11:27 Juice 2 – Pineapple, Apple, Mint.  THIS IS AWESOME!!  Throw some vodka in here and I could drink this everyday!  I am feeling hungry though and I don’t know if this juice is gonna do the trick.  Also everything is moving in semi-slow motion, like I just don’t have my normal spring in my step. 

1:02 Juice 3 – “Green Juice” Romaine, Celery, Cucumber, Apple, Spinach, Kale, Parsley, Lemon.  I am starving.  Couldn’t hold off until 1:30 when I planned to have Juice 3.  Not as refreshing now that I’m not a soggy, sweaty subway rat.  Just bearable now.  Still hungry after drinking all of it. 

3:37 Juice 4 – Spicy Lemonade.   More sweet, not at all spicy.  This is pretty delicious but not the flavor profile I was craving at the time.  I really wanted something salty and crunchy – Cheetos would have been perfect.  My stomach was rumbling pretty loudly before I had this juice, but 20oz of water managed to confuse it into thinking it was a little fuller.  I’m starting to notice the high level of acidity in all these juices…should I counteract with a proactive TUMS?  Is that allowed?  I just read that canker sores or cold sores can develop as that’s a sign of the toxins exiting your body.  So my juices might make me look like I have herpes…great.

6:14 Juice 5 – Apple, Celery, Beet, Lemon, Ginger.  I started Juice 5 only to stay on schedule, not because I was hungry.  Not my favorite one in the bunch, but way better than the Green Juice.  I drank half of it before my Zumba class, and half after.  I felt great during Zumba, my energy level was up and I didn’t get lightheaded or feel weak.

9:37 Juice 6 – Cashew Milk.  Now I know what everyone was raving about when they talked about this “juice.”  It tastes like watered down leftover milk from a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.  I felt fullest and most satisfied after drinking this one.  

I was pretty tuckered out by 11:30 (my usual bedtime is more like 12:30) and fell asleep right when my head hit the pillow.  I woke up feeling super peppy at 8:00.  Usually I am dragging myself out of bed at 8:20, but on Day 2 I was ready to cartwheel across our studio to the bathroom.  Results of Day 1 -- 3lbs lost!  Whhaaaattt?!?!?  Let’s get Day 2 started!!!

Epilogue
I won’t go into as much detail for Days 2 and 3.  I’ll just note that these days weren't much easier like the reviews claim.  I started to grow an immunity to the Green Juice, but the hunger pangs and cravings for Cheetos never went away.  I would describe it as being in a constant state of un-satisfaction for 3 days.  I also really missed warm food.  I got into the habit of smelling hot foods, as if inhaling them was almost like really eating them.  I even made Mr. S let me smell his breath after he had some pizza for dinner.  He didn't think it was that weird.  True love.

I didn't make it through the 3 day post-cleanse since it only took 8 hours for me to succumb to a bowl of spaghetti and meat sauce made by Mama Rice Ball.  For those of you who have had her spaghetti before, you know I stood no chance of winning that one.  It wasn't without consequence though because I woke up in the middle of the night with stomach pains.

Probably the hardest part about the cleanse was living a normal social life.  I had to decline 2 dinner invitations, pass on tickets to a Mets game, and force Mr. S to eat dinner before I got home – all just so I could avoid the temptation of solid food.  It helped to keep myself busy with non-food activities, so I actually enjoyed being at the gym because it meant being away from food.  Also, it helps to stay away from Instagram because food porn is tor-ture.

Would I do the juice cleanse again?  Most likely yes -- hey, weight loss is weight loss and I got so many compliments on my glowing skin.  Next time around though I will definitely recruit more masochists participants and schedule it during the most boring, un-fun 3 days of the year.

** Poop Alert!  If you don't like poop, stop reading now**
For those of you wondering about my #1s and #2s, there were definitely a lot more #1s than #2s.  Some people could debate that a few of those #2s should really be classified as 1.5s...

Art is...

This past weekend I spent a lazy Saturday at the MoMA with my cousin.  We hadn't seen each other in a long time (I guess med school is an acceptable reason to live in the tundra that is upstate NY) and thus had much catching up to do.  Unlike movie theaters (where talking is unacceptable) or restaurants (where you inevitably get politely kicked out), museums are fantastic places for spending time with loved ones, just wandering around and filling each other in on all the recent happenings of life.  Not to mention catching a glimpse of some Van Gogh or Monet.

Of the larger museums in NYC, so far MoMA is my fave.  Mostly because it is a lot more fun to say than the others.  Try it.  MO…MA…MO...MA...MO...MA… MO.MO.MO.MA.MA.MA .  Fun, right?  Another reason I’m a fan of the MoMA is that there is always a piece of modern art in there that validates why I would have failed in pursuing a career in art.  I’m just not that weird deep.  Examples:

• Giant paper mache hamburgers, cake slices, or sneakers
• Chairs hanging from steel I-beams suspended from the ceiling
• A collection of miniature knick-knacks housed in a dark room
• A room full of industrial waste

Upon seeing bizarre installations like these, first I think, “Oh, nifty.”  Then I think, “How is this art??”  

Maybe I need to take an art appreciation class or something, but I just don’t get it.  As someone who enjoys making art, the ultimate goal of all my paintings is to make something pretty.  It’s never a commentary on the use of torture in the military or my perspective of environmental decline.  It’s more about sunsets and flowers.  Is that why these artists are in the MoMA and I paint in a senior citizen center?  I guess so.

Domesticated for one night only

I don’t cook.  At least not regularly.  To me, cooking dinner is an event that requires mental and physical preparation.   When people ask me, “Do you cook?” I respond, “Sort of.”  And it’s only “sort of” because my definition of cooking includes heating up things that were previously frozen, which I know is not real cooking.  But lucky for Mr. S and me, I am excellent at ordering!  Living in NYC, there are 5 major food groups: Pizza, Chinese, Thai, Japanese, and Mexican – all of them equally convenient.

So it must be a very special occasion when I do try to “whip up” something in the kitchen.  And by “whip up,” I mean research the dish I will make online, go to the grocery store to buy the required ingredients (because I have none of those so-called kitchen staples), precisely measure each ingredient using measuring cups and assorted spoons, and meticulously put together my dish using no less than 3 pots and pans.  Oh, and all the while, running back and forth from the kitchen to the laptop to make sure I am correctly following the recipe’s step-by-step directions.  See why I don’t cook often?  It’s exhausting.

But last night, I must have been feeling inspired by the 20 Costco chicken breasts staring at me from our freezer.  Why do we buy bulk chicken breasts if we don’t cook?  I have no idea.  All I can say is that we got a good deal on them.  I checked out the rest of my existing supplies in the refrigerator and cabinets: garlic in a jar, Dijon mustard, breadcrumbs, and dried herbs and spices.  The only reason I have these things on hand is that they are the non-perishable leftovers from those rare occasions when I was feeling particularly domestic.  I avoid looking at the stamped expiration date on things that come out of my refrigerator and have faith that my 5 senses alone will let me know if something has gone bad. 

I thought that all those ingredients would go well with chicken, but I did a quick Google search just to make sure.  Lo and behold! – my planned concoction did exist and it was called “Easy Breaded Dijon Chicken.”  Sounds delicious.  Any recipe I attempt is marked as either “quick” or “easy.”  I can’t imagine the damage my kitchen would endure with something called “advanced.”

And so, my normal cooking pattern began: sit at laptop, run to kitchen, measure 1 1/2 tablespoons of mustard, put in bowl, run to laptop, run to kitchen…and so on and so forth.  It’s a good thing we live in a small studio.

Here’s a list of my ingredients and supplies (I also made roasted asparagus and couscous):

• 2 chicken breast halves, skinless & boneless
• 1 1/2 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 1 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon dried tarragon or basil
• 1 cup fresh breadcrumbs (who actually makes fresh breadcrumbs?!)
• salt and pepper
• chopped fresh parsley  (I didn’t have this and it was only for garnish, so I omitted it)
• 1 bunch asparagus
• 1 box 5-minute couscous
• 3 large dishes – 1 for defrosting chicken, 1 for soaking chicken, 1 for breading chicken
• 1 baking sheet
• 1 other baking vessel (I don’t know the technical term for this thing)
• 1 small pot
• 1 small pot lid
• tongs
• measuring cup
• 1 tablespoon
• 1 teaspoon
• 3 forks (used in the cooking process, not for eating)
• 1 big knife
• 1 small knife
• 1 cutting board

I should mention at this point that our small studio comes equipped with a very small sink.  It quickly overfloweth. 

One thing I am pretty good at is orchestrating the various cooking times and the final reveal.  Voila!

It wasn’t as pretty as the online version, but still tasty.  When Mr. S got home from the gym I announced my good deed for the day:

Me: I made dinner!!! (cue trumpets and confetti)

Mr. S: I see.  It smells good.

Me: Hurry, hurry, try it, try it!!

Mr. S: I have to shower first.

Me: EAT IT NOWWWW!!!!!

Mr. S: Ok, ok.  Are there carbs in couscous?

Me: I don’t know.  You don’t have to eat the couscous.  (That only took 5 minutes of my time…I didn’t care about his opinion of instant couscous)

< Mr. S eats while I hover over his shoulder >

Me: So is it good?

Mr. S (mouth full):  Yup!  Good job!

Although I’m sure Mr. S knows better than to answer that question with anything but an enthusiastic affirmation of my cooking skills, I really do think my Easy Breaded Dijon Chicken was a success.  Another one for the history books!

The Duchess of DSW

This weekend I was home in NJ to celebrate Mother's Day. No trip home to NJ is complete without a family visit to DSW. I love shoes, my mom loves shoes, and my dad loves shoes. And we all love a good bargain (who doesn't?). Needless to say, we have a lot of shoes. It's like all of us inherited the Imelda Marcos gene. Actually, shoe loving might be a cultural thing. I haven't met a Filipino who doesn't feel passionately about shoes.

But shoe shopping at DSW is better than any other store. Why?  Because we are DSW VIPs. Yes, we have bought so many shoes at DSW that they have basically knighted us and welcome us with roses when we enter. Actually, it's more like this at the check-out counter:

DSW employee: Oh hello Mr. Rice Ball, nice to see you again!

Dad: Hi Jessica, how are you? Yes, nice to see you too. 

Jessica (now she has a name): Still one of our top customers!  We would like to invite you to our new store opening in Manhattan. You should be receiving the invitation in the mail shortly. 

I am not lying or exaggerating. We were really invited to the ribbon cutting ceremony at the 34th Street store opening. Unfortunately we couldn't go since it was a weekday during work hours. Jessica also sends us hand-written Christmas cards. 

How did we get to this coveted VIP status?  If I tell you, then I'll have to kill you. But here's a hint: volume. Back to my mantra - the more you buy, the more you save.  The biggest perk of being a DSW VIP (besides the red carpet events) is the savings. Every time I go home, there is a DSW coupon waiting for me. This past weekend it was $50 off, and at DSW $50 goes a long way. 

I have plenty of friends who don't understand my love affair with DSW. They say, "Oh, I never find anything there."  Well then, you are doing it wrong. Since I won't tell you our family secret to DSW royalty, I'll share my DSW plan of attack.

1.  Wear sensible shoes. Ballet flats or flip flops are my preference. 

2.  Enter DSW. Give a friendly nod to the security guard who is showering you with rose petals.
3.  Head straight to the clearance racks. Do not stop in the main aisles. Do not bother to pick up a shopping bag, they will be in the back and/or a store employee will offer you one when they see you trying to balance 3 boxes of shoes in one hand. 

4.  Find your size in the clearance racks and put your eyes to work. I use a left to right, up to down grid method. I try not to let my eyes wander from the method to ensure complete processing of all clearance shoes in my size. 

5.  When you find a shoe that speaks to you, identify the color of its tag, which denotes how much % off from the marked price you will get. This is the best part. If you have a middle school aged child, the clearance racks at DSW are a great place to get them practicing on their math skills. I plan on doing this with my child, rapid fire style. 

"The tag is blue and it's marked at $79.99 -- how much will the final price be??"
"Um...um..."
"Too slow!  Try again!"

6.  If, by the grace of God, you find a shoe with a yellow tag, hold onto it!  It doesn't even matter what they look like. There is a very good chance these shoes will only cost you $8. (Yellow tags are 80% off)
7.  If you find a pair of shoes that you are on the fence about, grab them and move on. You can make your final decision later. 

8.  Once you have exhausted all the clearance racks, then and only then, can you emerge into the normal aisles. Before you do, assess your clearance finds and do a second sweep if you feel compelled to. Once you leave the clearance racks, no deal in DSW will ever be as sweet 

9.  At the check-out counter, present Jessica with your coupon. If you don't have one, give her your phone number so she can look up your membership number. This is important because this is how you get the points. Points lead to coupons. Coupons lead to shoes. Shoes lead to points. See how this works?

10.  Compare your receipt with family and friends and show off how much money you have saved. 

By the end of a successful trip, I usually leave DSW sweaty with excitement, 3 new pairs of shoes, and a receipt evidencing no less than $150 in savings. Cha-ching!

Getting the Filipino food movement moving

Not too long ago, my cousins and I got together for dinner at Pig & Khao, a Filipino/Thai fusion restaurant in the Lower East Side. Filipinos are a proud bunch, so we jump at the chance to support one of our own – provided, of course, it comes with a discount (thanks Google Offers!).

Our conversation quickly turned to Filipino food, specifically its lack of presence in the food world. Many other Asian cuisines have hit it big – Thai, Malaysian, Vietnamese, etc. – and our food is way better than theirs! Why isn’t the Philippines sharing in the limelight? Here’s what we came up with (then the rebuttal, because there should be no excuses!):

1. Lack of presentation. Most existing Filipino food establishments are “turo-turo” style, which is basically cafeteria style service. You get in line, grab a tray, pick your carb of choice and 2 viands to go with it, the server slops it onto your Styrofoam partitioned plate, and shoves it to you across the smudged plexi-glass window. Sound appetizing? Only if you know what you are ordering. The food is just sitting there in steel vats with liquid fat skimming the tops of all of them. You can’t tell if it’s pork, chicken, beef, or just vegetables because it’s all some kind of shade of brown and goopy looking – and it’s not even labeled! (Fish is served whole so no problem identifying that one.) It all looks too intimidating to the untrained eye. One theory we came up with is that non-Filipinos are hesitant to just try Filipino food because of the way it is presented.

The Rebuttal: Filipinos are everywhere. Seriously, check your surroundings. I have 2 within 25 yards of where I am sitting right now. We are so prevalent that we’re sure most non-Filipinos (in this example, I’ll use a white man) have at least one Filipino connection. And if the white man ever visited his Filipino friend’s house, Mama Filipina surely force fed the white man some Lumpia Shanghai. And he loved it. They always love it.

Conclusion: There are plenty of Filipinos out there to introduce non-Filipinos to our food. Regardless of its looks, the taste alone should keep people begging for more.

2. Filipinos want comfort food, not fine dining. Like most home-cooking, everything is the same but different. You and I grew up on chicken adobo, but yours tastes slightly different (aka, mine is better). Why should I go to a fancy restaurant and pay big bucks for home-cooked food, when I can just make it at home!

The Rebuttal: This might be a valid argument for someone who actually knows how to cook Filipino food. Of the three of us sitting at P&K having this discussion, not a single one of us cooks Filipino food. And even if we tried, the sad truth is it always tastes better when Mom (or Yaya) makes it.

Conclusion: Mom and Yaya, open a restaurant!!

3. Filipino food is too fatty. We ordered only the Filipino dishes at P&K and this is what we had: fried pork skin, sizzling pork head and ears, and pork belly.

The Rebuttal: Pork has been enjoying a glorious renaissance ever since hipsters started eating it. People will now eat almost anything with bacon in it – bacon ice cream, bacon donuts, etc. Hipsters also made popular the concept of “nose-to-tail” eating, which means it is very cool to eat every part of the pig, even his ears. And because hipsters are usually so trim in their skinny jeans, nobody ever questions their cholesterol levels.

Conclusion: The more fat, the better.

4. The last and most reasonable explanation – Filipinos have tried to open nice restaurants, but they quickly fail because all their patrons are their friends and family who expect – you got it – a deep discount. We didn’t have a rebuttal to this one.

In the end we decided that with all it has going for it, (plus the universal appeal of Manny Pacquiao) it is just a matter of time before the rest of the world discovers that Filipino food is a worthy cuisine all on its own. We tossed around the idea of starting a Filipino food truck to drum up some buzz. Between the three of us, we could handle the accounting, marketing, and IT needs of our little business. Now just to find someone who actually knows how to cook…

Rumble in the Concrete Jungle

I have a NYC bucket list.  It's a list of fairly touristy activities in the city that most residents take for granted and sadly, never get around to experiencing.  I actually got the idea from an ex-coworker who tried to get her entire bucket list done in one weekend before she moved home to Florida.  I can't imagine it was a success.  So I created a spreadsheet of all the things I want to see and do before I bid farewell to this great city.  I don't know when that will be, or where we are going, or if we are even ever going to leave...but it's good to be proactive, right?  This weekend we got to cross off one of the big ticket items: the Bronx Zoo.

Sidenote, since I have a bucket list, Mr. S also has a bucket list by default.

I wanted to go to the Bronx Zoo last year, but last year's August was brutally hot and Mr. S refused to take me.  Mr. S is ter-ri-ble in the heat, so I settled for the Central Park Zoo instead.  It was ok...small as far as zoos go and it didn't have the more exciting animals the Bronx has, but it sufficed.  Best part about the CP Zoo is that it is like stepping into the Madagascar movie (you know, before the animals get lost in Africa).

This year I had a strategy: early May.  Not too hot for Mr. S, and since I knew that he knew that I was super disappointed last year, he could not say no.

Me: Can we go to the Bronx zoo this weekend pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!!!
Mr. S: Ok, fine.

I wish there was more enthusiasm there but ill take it.  On to step 2 of the planing process: visit the website.  By getting our tickets online, I saved 20% (told ya I never pay full price) and the zoo has a fun interactive trip planner.  Basically I was able to select all the animals/exhibits we wanted to see and the planner would tell me the best route and how long it would all take.  Genius!  Great news for me, bad news for Mr. S.

Me: So I did something today but I don't want to tell you because you might not take me to the zoo anymore.
Mr. S (sternly): What did you do?
Me: I used this planner thingy on the zoo website and it said we would be there for 5 hours.
Mr. S: WHAT?!?!?
Me: But we're gona get to see everything! Lions, rhinos, polar bears--
Mr. S: We saw polar bears last year!

Either he knew he wasn't going to win this one, or he was already plotting how to speedwalk through the zoo, but he said "Ok, fine."

On Saturday I woke up excited at 9:06 am.  This is impressive because we went to bed at 3:00 am.  I know Mr. S was excited too because it didn't take too much whining to wake him up, he just keeps it cool better than I do.  Getting to the zoo was easy enough, just one stop on the express bus.  The trick was to actually make the bus.  I decided to sacrifice a stop at Duane Reade to buy tissues just to be sure we wouldn't miss the bus.  Very bad idea. I have mentioned before I am allergic to dogs...I should have known I would be allergic to the zoo.  Not to mention spring had sprung this past weekend. Hello pollen!

Nonetheless, the Bronx zoo is beautifully done.  You completely forget you are in the middle of a bustling city, until you stumble upon the rare spots at the edge of the zoo where you can see the top of a high rise building or hear the block party going on just on the other side of the fence.  Besides the animals, one of my favorite features of the zoo was the "eco-friendly bathroom."  Instead of flushing with water, the toilets "foam away" your waste.  I personally only had to go #1 while we were there, but I wondered how the foam would fare against a #2...

According to our planned route we started with the bison, saw the sea lions, then headed towards the aviary birds.  Up next were Madagascar, Tiger Mountain, big bears, and the African Plains. We did make it to every exhibit and saw every animal on our list, but the day was looooooooong.  We got lost somewhere between the Himalayas and Asia when I started to lose steam.

Me: I'm sleepy I'm sleepy I'm sleepy
Mr. S (very calmly): Come on, we're almost to Asia, and then the Congo, and then we can go home and you can take a nap.

This is why Mr. S will make an excellent nurse.  I would've said, "Shut up kid, this was all your idea.  You're gonna see Asia if it kills you."  But then again, I've given Mr. S plenty of practice in dealing with difficult patients.  (I have already resigned myself to the fact that if we have children, I will have to be the bad cop and Mr. S gets to be the good cop).

Good thing he kept us going because the gorillas at the Congo were the highlight of our trip.  And it turned out 1.5 chicken fingers and a coke were all I needed to get my second wind.  And just like the website planner promised, we were ready to head back home 5 hours after our adventure had begun.  I checked my FitBit pedometer when we got home. 22,764 steps and 8.77 miles walked. I decided I had earned my nap.

Epilogue: Mr. S woke me from my epic nap at 10:30 pm with the promise of udon noodles.  While we ate we debated if it was better to be a rhino or a gorilla, I forget which one I voted for.  I was asleep again by 11:30 pm.