Am I a clean freak?

I have been holding back from writing this post for a LONG time in hopes of finding my inner-peace but when I came home today to find MULTIPLE snot stains on my couch I thought I was going to turn green, rip my clothes off and start beating on my chest. So here it is, another rant. Grab a cookie, a glass of milk, take your socks off and bask in my anger, apparently it’s entertaining.

I’ll acknowledge that I’m probably not the easiest person to live with. I’m incredibly protective of my food and am prepared to suffocate anyone who takes the last slice of pizza without permission. Do you even know the pain of waking up first thing in the morning, thinking to yourself: “Great, I’ll have some Pizza for breakfast (eaten cold because i’m hardcore)”, only to open a greasy box which has evidently been put back into the fridge due to the fact that it contains nothing but a measly piece of salami in it? Additionally, I’m pretty much a grandma on weekdays and don’t have much tolerance for large groups of people and noise when I’m planning to catch my Z’s at ten pm. My eighteen year old self would hate me. However, the thing I’m most particular about is cleanliness.You’re picturing me as the crazy asian version of Monk now, aren’t you? Well in that case, picture this.

You’ve come home after an extended weekend away.The apartment is empty so your roommates must to be out. You hang up your keys and run to the toilet because as per usual, you got the urge to pee as you were in the lift. You slam the door shut and just as you’re about to sit down , what do you see?  A toilet bowl which has clearly been violated. A person (or a bear) has clearly taken a ‘big one’, flushed and decided to leave a huge stain for the next person to clean up as a nice little bonding activity. Tasty.

Then, on the way to kitchen, a dull stench wafts down the hallway. Its source is a rubbish can, filled to the top and overflowing on to the floor. Juices and all. Someone was definitely going to take that out today, no cause for a commotion. You navigate around the trash pile only to notice your stocks are sticking to the floor. It appears as if an unidentified brown sticky substance has coated the floor and been left to dry. Pepsi? Barbecue Sauce? You’re not going to taste and find out.

You open the fridge which is covered in ketchup stains and are caught off guard by the cheesy aroma which drifts out. You poke around to find the culprit, an old, open mozzarella packet, with it’s juices leaking out. You push it to the side because you are strong and refuse to clean up someones mess again and continue loading in your groceries.

You then proceed to cook your dinner, ignoring the stove which has become slightly crusty and the various remnants of whatever meal was put together before on the kitchen counter. With the intentions of putting away your own mess, you open the dishwasher to find that it is curiously full though there are a total of maybe five items inside. “Somebody didn’t play Tetris as a child” , you mumble to yourself. You go about reorganizing the dishwasher to fit in your pan,plate and glass. Before you can escape to your room, you decide to take a nice relaxing shower.

You grab a towel, strip yourself down and hop into the tub. There appears to be a fluffy hairball in the drain. You swallow hard, take a cotton pad and attempt to remove it slowly. It catches. It’s stuck in there pretty good. You pull and pull until finally, your hand is free! You shudder and toss it all in the bin. It is done.

You feel yourself relax as the hot stream of water beats down on your tired muscles. The smell of your shampoo calms you. After you reluctantly step out, your fogged up reflection greets you in the mirror. You take the corner of your towel and quickly wipe over it. For some reason, you still don’t clearly see yourself. It dawns on you that this is due to the fact that the mirror is actually covered in toothpaste stains. You feel your head get hot. The vein in your neck begins to pulse and then…you black out.

When you open your eyes, you are standing in a spotless apartment with a fresh sheen of sweat on your forehead, a bottle of CIF in one hand and a washcloth in the other. You’ve lost the battle.

Disclaimer: The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this post are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
*Not.

– A Pearl of the Orient.

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Pokéball

Now that I’ve grabbed your attention with a misleading title (I know, I’m just SO devious), I will reveal to you that today’s blogpost has nothing to do with Pokemon, rather, with Poke Bowls.

For those of you who don’t know what that is: a Poke Bowl is a Hawaiian-inspired dish with a rice base, topped with greens and raw fish ( usually tuna) which has been marinated in an asian-style sauce. So basically…sushi, but cooler.

One thing you should know about me? If you tag me in a photo of food, I will instantly crave it. My cravings know no boundaries. So yes, after being bombarded with photos of Poke Bowls on social media, I knew I had to have it. However, after multiple google searches, I realised that not a single place in Vienna serves them. If any entrepreneurs are looking to invest in the food industry…here’s your market!

Anyway, seeing as Poke Bowls are not yet a thing over here, I decided to make my own…which was a bad idea. I don’t think there was a problem with the recipe itself, I just happened to succumb to a series of unfortunate events.

Firstly, I went to the store and was quite honestly offended by the price of fresh, sushi-grade salmon. Double the price of sushi from a restaurant, yet half the quantity! So me being me, I thought : Meh, smoked salmon will do. Then, while combining the ingredients, I put in WAY too much soy sauce, obviously forgetting that smoked salmon in itself is pretty salty. In combination with cooking too little rice, my Poke Bowl (though pretty) just ended up tasting like sodium and not much else. So why am I still sharing the recipe with you? Because I feel that if you can follow basic instructions (unlike me) , you’d have a masterpiece…so here it is!



Salmon & Avocado Poke Bowl

Author: justputzing
Recipe type: Lunch/Dinner
Cuisine: Asian, Hawaiian
Prep time:  15 mins
Cook time:  5 mins
Total time:  20 mins
Yields: 4
INGREDIENTS
  • 1 lb sushi-grade salmon
  • 1 avocado, cubed
  • Cooked white rice, to serve
  • ½ red onion, finely diced
  • ½ cup green onions, chopped
  • ⅓ cup soy sauce
  • 2 tbsp white sugar
  • ⅛ cup sesame oil
  • ½ tsp ground ginger
  • Sesame seeds
DIRECTIONS
  1. In a medium bowl, mix together red onion, green onion, soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil, and ginger. Set aside.
  2. Remove bones and skin from your salmon, if any, and cut the fish into ¾″ chunks.
  3. Add fish and avocado to the bowl with the marinade. Toss to coat. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
  4. Taste and adjust seasonings.
  5. Serve with extra diced green onions and sesame seeds on top of steamed white rice that has been cooled to room temperature.
  6. Enjoy!

    – A Pearl of the Orient.

What I didn’t expect in my early twenties.

As a kid, I often imagined myself all grown up. I pictured myself in my mid-twenties, living in my own apartment in a big city, with a successful job, an adorable golden retriever and a bathtub filled with 100 dollar bills. One day, reality got out of bed and proceeded to give me a slap in the face. So without further ado, here are a few things that didn’t turn out the way I expected.

 Not looking like an adult
This is not to say that I get mistaken for a child but …a prepubescent teenager at the least. Whereas this generations 12 year olds are busy looking like young adults, I’m still getting ID’d at the local supermarket for trying to buy a bottle of wine for gods sake.  WHERE IS THE JUSTICE!?

Not being a makeup godess
I have yet to master the fine arts of makeup. Though I can just about manage to put on foundation, blush and mascara, anything beyond that is pushing it. If I try to do anything out of the ordinary or involving more than two eyeshadow colours I tend to end up resembling Ursula from The Little Mermaid. I’ve also pretty much given up on trying to work false lashes for a night out. Most attempts have ended in a tantrum, tears, a faceful of smeared eyeliner and me back in my pyjamas. Ladies, it ain’t pretty.

Not being mature
Wasn’t I supposed to go through a life-changing transformation by now? I thought I’d wake up one day and I don’t know…know how to adult? I’m pretty sure I have the same mental state as I did a few years ago, I’m just better at hiding it. Someone farting? Still hilarious . Getting ‘cooties’ from boys because they are ew? Still a thing.

 Not being able to eat whatever
I know, I was shocked too. Contrary to wishful thinking, one can no longer eat Mcdonalds 5 days a week as well as a variation of sweets and chips without consequences. Now I actually have to TRY make health-conscious choices. When I don’t ( which happens more often than not) at least I feel guilty about it! I am going places.

Not being at the epitome of my party life
I thought finally being legal, I’d go all out. I’d leave my inhibitions behind and spend countless nights partying till dawn. Instead of having my tolerance increase, it has hit rock bottom. When three beers get you borderline drunk, you have a problem. Also, hangovers feel 100 times worse. I don’t know how I ever went out over more than 2 consecutive nights in a row. I can try to stick to wine spritzers all night to minimize the damage but you can bet that I’ll still wake up feeling like my bodys been dragged to hell and back again. Twice.  Plus let’s admit it, the best part of a night out now adays is the kebap on the way home though technically, it could probably be made of carpet and it would still taste bomb.

My love for red wine
Ok I realise I was just whining about hangovers but red wine is love. Women in movies like Sex in the city are portrayed for loving their wine and lots of it. Not that long ago I would have gagged at the thought so I don’t know how I got here, but there’s no going back. A glass of red wine after a stressful week or accompanying me on a night in is like having a warm, emotion filled embrace (in liquid form). Then I pass out, mouth open, hand in spaghetti, feeling like I’m lying in a bed of roses.

Having a schedule
I used to heavily judge those who had a calender and had to ‘check their schedule’ before agreeing to making plans.It sounds so obnoxious , right? I HAVE BECOME THAT PERSON. I probably wouldn’t make it through my semester without ical and god forbid if I lose that planner. I can actually use that pretentious line ‘I’ll pencil you in for Wednesday from 7 to 745pm’ and be dead serious about it. When it comes to brunches with my friends? It takes intense planning and swapping of schedules before we can agree to meet…three weeks later.

Not finding my calling
I have so many talented friends who have really figured out where they are going in life and are headed straight to the top. Me? I’m pretty much just chilling. I don’t quite know what to do with myself just yet. As for exceptional talents, I’m still looking. I can make really ugly facial expressions though? And my eyelids are really pudgy? That must count for something!

So a lot has changed and not everything happened like I thought it would but that is the wonderful thing we call life and as we’ve all figured out, sometimes you just have to roll with the punches.
Have a great weekend!

-A Pearl of the Orient.

 

The Asian Stereotype

Okay, so I know I’ve been MIA for a while (thank you to those who have held me accountable), I bow my head in shame. I knew that once Uni was in full swing, blogging would have to take a back seat and this semester I’ve been battling with a lovely subject called statistics which takes up a good chunk of my week in terms of assignments and contrary to popular belief, not all asians are good at maths. With that being said, I thought todays blogpost would cover the top stereotypes I’m regularly confronted with.

1. No, I am not a mathematical genius nor do I like to elaborate on the theory of blackholes in my spare time. In Highschool, I despised physics with a burning passion and I’m so out of practice with maths that sometimes I can’t even calculate the difference between 30 and 13 in my head while working at the cash register.

2. I do not spend my days studying diligently in a dimly lit room surrounded by cans of redbull on the floor. I believe grades are important but I’m also practically a sloth and it takes an enourmous amount of willpower to get myself to sit at my desk. My parents had to bribe me with an Ipod nano for good grades when I was 16.  Also, much to my mothers disappointment back then , I did not go on to study law or medicine like all the other korean kids she knew.

3.Just because my eyes become non-existant when I laugh doesn’t automatically mean I’m chinese. I know this may come shocking to some, but Asia actually consists of quite a few countries.

4.Granted, we asians do sometimes eat some pretty weird stuff, not all of us are fond of the idea of eating live baby rats or any other strange thing you can come up with. If I get asked one more time if I like to eat dog, yours is going to go missing.

Infact, I seem to be a terrible example for a stereotypical asian. Did you know that I can’t even hold chopsticks properly? My austrian friends do a better job of that than me and if you gave me a bowl of ramen, I wouldn’t be able to loudly slurp the noodles up even if I wanted to…(believe me, I’ve tried). Fine, I might admit that I suck at driving ( yes, even Mario kart), did Taekwondo as a kid, and lack ‘junk in the trunk’ but that’s all you are getting out of me!

All in all though, I do take the stereotyping with good humour because they must’ve originated somewhere and at the end of the day it’s good to not take yourself too seriously.

Have a lovely week!
– A Pearl of the Orient.