Pearl Milk Teasing

My dad has three brothers, which is a small family by Asian standards (an informal poll of my Asian friends concludes that 6-8 siblings is the norm for our parents’ generation). My mom is more normal at five siblings. However, based on the way they introduced family friends to me, you would think that they had many, many more siblings:

Uncle Wong
Uncle Mark
Uncle Mike & Auntie Betty #1
Uncle Henry & Auntie Christine
Uncle Sit
Auntie Shirley
Auntie Betty #2
Auntie Dorothy
Auntie Ann
Auntie Helena
Auntie Aiko
Auntie Clara

You get the picture — the list goes on and on. For some reason, Asian culture dictates that you call older people of your parents’ generation Uncle and Auntie (confusing, but still plausible), even older people of your grandparents’ generation Grandma and Grandpa (leading to all sorts confusion about who your actual grandparents are), and people intermediate in age between you and your parents are Older Brother and Older Sister (when they are obviously not). This always struck me as straight-out lying, and I was pretty hesitant as a child to address complete strangers with such familiar terms.

This was still mostly okay, though (once I got older and figured out it was just a term of respect), until I got to college. My dad called my dorm room and got my roommate, who was white and had grown up calling family friends normal names like “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.” Anyway, my dad said “Hi Elaine, it’s Uncle Bill!” and asked to speak to me…which made her wonder who this weirdo was who thought he was related to her. Of course, then I had to explain that no, he was actually related to me.

I have since then reached that dubious intermediate age where I am introduced to younger children as “Older Sister.” I am torn between wanting to insist that they just call me by my actual name, and thinking “yes!!! yes!! I am now worthy of a title of respect!” The problem with the latter is that at some point I will reach the age where I am introduced as “Auntie ____,” and I will then officially be old and uncool. I’d rather not know when I’ve gotten there.

[Side Note: My mom refers to me as "Older Sister" when she's talking to our cat, e.g. "Go say hi to Older Sister!" when I get home from work. I suppose this makes sense, since our cat is only two and I am of that intermediate age.]

CT

Chinese people don’t really understand the concept of taking care of the environment. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a Chinese word for sustainability….maybe there is, but I bet no one knows it. Anyways, the Chinese are the best at tearing down the environment as long as a profit is still being turned. In China, if you are within 100 miles of a factory, you are living in a health hazard. There are no regulations for the Chinese to reduce carbon emissions or recycle. The extra effort and energy required for preserving the future does not exist.

The Chinese are masters of creating pollution (and also products with melamine and lead), from their factories emitting excessive carbon dioxide, to creating products that require 5 layers of plastic wrap before you get to the actual thing.

In a similar way in America, the Chinese here are masters of creating spatial pollution. The word “loitering” does not give the proper gravity of the situation; therefore, a new term must be created.

Spatial pollution- wasted space and time, caused by people (usually Asians), numbering between three and twelve, seen usually in front of restaurants or storefronts.

In an industrial sense, pollution is a waste byproduct that produces harm to the environment. If you were to have a meal with non-Asians, you typically would leave straight for your next destination after you finish eating. Asians especially love to sit around, even after the bill has been paid. I experienced this sitting around thing at a restaurant during the holidays. Being sensitive to the “loitering matter”, I felt bad for the restaurant as we were taking up space that could be used for another customer.  There are two reasons why Asians do this: 1) not wanting to leave, 2) unsure of next destination 3) Food coma. The real bad part is when the waiters keep coming around to refill your water for the 3rd time after having paid the bill.

The other way that Asians create spatial pollution is waiting around entrances after an event (like a meal, church, or a class). Human circles, ranging from 4 to 40 people can gather in a hallway, doorway, or sidewalk to loiter, causing other people to have to walk around them. Imagine walking down a sidewalk and someone parked a cement truck right in the middle of it. That’s pretty much what it’s like.

So what is one to do when encountering “spatial pollution” of the Asian kind? If the circle is really standing in the direct path of a walkway, I recommend walking into the circle and sit in the middle, just so you can make them feel awkward by them all staring at you, that way they’ll know how awkward their circle has made you.

EC

If you happen to have Asian people come over for dinner and treat them to an après dîner treat, know in advance that the highest compliment your dessert could ever hope for from this group would be that it was light, not too heavy, and not too sweet.

Therein lies the rub to the success of hundreds of yogurt shop owners across the world.

Credit must be given to the Koreans for figuring this out in the early 2000’s. In fact Korean based company – Red Mango, was the first retailer to receive the National Yogurt Association’s Live and Active Culture Seal. Their success has sprouted many Yogurt chains across the nation. Some notable mentions include Pinkberry, Yogurtland, Yogurt World, Yoberry, Yoguberry, Red Berry, Berries and Beans, Tartini, YoCup, and YoMomma (kidding).

Even though every yogurt place comes with signage about the probiotic benefits of consuming yogurt, it has to be said that Asians are not well known for their health consciousness (see: Orange Chicken, Katsu, Egg Rolls). Thus it is the very nature of yogurt that resonates with the heart of every Asian.

Your yogurt experience will vary depending on the type of place you go to. Some are completely self-serve and you pay per ounce (somewhere to the tune of 29-45 cents an ounce). Others (namely Red Mango and Pinkberry) sell yogurt in 3 sizes with a preset number of toppings. The common denominator of these stores is their offering of the plain tart flavor. The plain tart may take some getting used to – especially if one is accustomed to Golden Spoon/McD’s/Costco froyo.  It is a little sour at first taste, but finishes smooth and creamy with light dairy notes. Some will argue that perhaps the greatest draw to the yogurt craze is not the yogurt but the offering of toppings that come WITH the yogurt. It can’t be overstated that Asians love a good deal. To charge an Asian 70 cents per topping is the equivalent of robbing them at gunpoint. Yet hundreds of yogurt stores and ice cream places do this every day without an ounce of remorse. Hence their inability to secure the Asian market share. It’s not hard to understand why offering 10 different cereals, 15 varieties of fruit, 8 bottles of syrups, 6 types of various confections at no extra charge can be monetary heaven for Joe the Plumber Engineer.

So next time you have Asian dinner guests, save yourself the embarrassment of them scraping the frosting off of your triple chocolate ganache with mascarpone mousse torte. Pile them in the car and take them to your neighborhood yogurt joint.

CL

Last year, I discovered that some people actually buy their own paper napkins at stores like Albertsons.

I was floored — why not just snag a whole bunch from McDonalds, along with salt and pepper packets, ketchup, and honey mustard sauce? Buying napkins seemed like such a waste of money for someone who’d grown up with a mom from Hong Kong. Honestly, for the first 24 years of my life, I only ever used napkins with logos from such Asian Mother Free Goods Emporiums (Emporia?) like McDonalds, Burger King, and Arby’s. Pizza Hut, which has less selection, but more rare items (like red pepper flakes and parmesan cheese) is also up there on the list of suppliers. All this to say, the idea of buying napkins or condiments is seriously foreign to me.

Asian mothers love to get free things. It doesn’t matter if it’s something she will actually use (and rinse out and reuse, as is the case with the sturdier napkins that you can snag from Souplantation, which is another Asian favorite because of the “free” muffins you can take home in the giant Asian Mom Purse), or something that will stay stashed in a drawer forever, she will take it home if it’s not secured to an immovable object and doesn’t have a clearly labeled price. Ah, but it’s not possible, you say, that an upstanding member of the model minority is such a hoarder and shoplifter! I beg to differ; just take a look around my parents’ home, and you will find plenty of evidence of pathological kleptomania.

If you look in the hall closet at home, you will find many shoeboxes full of the following:

1) Free socks (way too thick and in an unattractive greige* color) and eyemasks (who actually uses these once they get off the plane?) from Cathay Pacific

2) Free shampoos, conditioners, body lotions, soaps, combs, toothbrushes, shower caps, lint mitts, and dry-cleaning bags from hotels

3) Free cheap toothbrushes (that aren’t fancy enough to actually use to brush teeth with) and sample size toothpastes (in brands/flavors we don’t like) from dentist visits

4) Free perfume, lotion, and make-up samples from walking past cosmetics stores in the mall

I realized that we, as a family, had a problem when I looked in the closet and found some items from hotels we went to when I was five. In order to make myself feel better, I donated items from categories #1-3 to the SF Rescue Mission, where hopefully someone can use the orange-ginger aromatherapy body gel that my mom deems too smelly to use herself. I have not been able to do anything about category #4.

Moving on to the kitchen, we find:

5) One drawer devoted to paper napkins from various dining establishments (usually ones with good deals like the aforementioned Souplantation, or Arby’s, where the 5 for $5 Junior Roast Beef Sandwiches was a staple of our summer lunches), along with the little handwipes you get from KFC

6) One drawer full of condiments, including and not limited to: salt, pepper, sugar, splenda, ketchup, mustard, honey mustard, sweet and sour sauce, horseradish sauce, tartar sauce, mayonnaise, parmesan cheese, red pepper flakes, soy sauce, grape jam, orange marmalade, syrup, and strawberry preserves

7) A cabinet of those little honey pots and ketchup and mustard containers and mini Tabasco sauce bottles that you get with room service in hotels

A section of another drawer with things that are not quite free because you had to buy the thing it came with, but at least you’ll never have to pay to buy your own: e.g. twist ties from bread and rolls, rubberbands from the newspaper, and pretty string from bakeries when you get a cake

I’ll confess that I find most of the above pretty useful, with the exception of maybe the strawberry preserves. Those things are just nasty. But alas, fast food restaurants have caught on to people like my mom, and they now hide sauces behind the counter and you have to actually go up to them and ask for it, instead of surreptitiously walking by and grabbing some from the counter. That is, you’re embarrassedly surreptitious if you’ve been sent by your parents, but blatantly bold if you’re actually the Asian mom.

[Side note: One of the most horrifyingly bold snags I've ever seen was at an outdoor Chinese wedding -- some grandma walked up the parents' table during the dancing, grabbed the centerpiece (a pretty glass bowl with shiny rocks and floating candles in it), poured the water out on the lawn, and STUFFED THE ENTIRE THING INTO HER PURSE, all without batting an eye.]

The Asian mom penchant for collecting free things (because you never know when you might need it!) extends to really good deals, too. You know, the ones that are so good it’s like getting something for free. Sometimes, just to help out Asian grandmas, who are older and may not recognize these “free” things as well, retailers usually put up giant neon signs saying “Buy x number of items, get one FREE!” Because of sales like this, Asian households usually end up with way too much stuff being stored for that dubious day in the future when it might be useful. For example, downstairs under the pool table, my parents have about ten gallons of juice. When I was in middle school and visited my friend’s house, I was surprised, but not really, to see that the walls of her bedroom were not visible, as they were “papered” with about 5000 neatly stacked rolls of toilet paper. They were on sale, she explained. Ah, that explains it all, I nodded sagely.

All of this deal-hunting and secret napkin-stealing becomes ingrained in one’s very DNA. It is nearly impossible to resist. I find myself feeling a little antsy, kind of restless, when I’m at Souplantation and don’t go home with at least one napkin-wrapped muffin in my purse, or if I leave a hotel knowing that there’s still a little shampoo bottle sitting in the corner of the bathtub. One day, some Asian scientist (pushed into the field by well-meaning Asian parents, no doubt) will discover the gene for a free-napkin receptor, make an antagonist for it, and then McDonalds can safely set out its ketchup packets once again.

*greige = grayish beige

CT

On a rainy day, you would normally remember to wear a raincoat and boots. When going to a nice restaurant, you wear a collared shirt and not athletic gear. Even when traveling on an airplane, you would now bring comfortable clothes and easy slip-off shoes. Every circumstance has its appropriate attire. One situation that is often overlooked by many is the partaking of Pho. 

I see this as a future FDA health advisory: 

Pho is the comfort food of the Asian world, just like fried chicken is the comfort food of the South (or is it the Krispy Kreme burger). As with all comfort foods, there is potential health hazard lurking. The combinations of aromatics from the star anise/basil/other spices with simmered pork bones (amino acids) creates an aerosol scent molecule with increased volatility. Prolonged exposure to pho can lead to repulsion of significant others, family and friends. Other side effects may include, drowsyness, watery eyes, dry mouth, and runny nose. Never operate heavy machinery within 30 minutes of eating pho. 

Okay, maybe it doesn’t have to go to that extent, but many people are unprepared for eating pho. Too often I have gone out with friends for pho and then we proceed to hang out with other friends, leading to potentially awkward situations: 

Recent Pho Eater: “Yo J, how’s it going?” 

Non-Pho’d Friend: “Good, (:sniffs air) you  just had pho huh?” 

Recent Pho Eater: (hanging head in shame) “Yeah…you can tell huh?” 

Then the conversation either is all about pho and why it smells, or there’s just dead silence from awkwardness. The same scenario applies if a group of girls/guys go out for pho and one of them were to come home to their significant other. In the relationship scenario, the 30 foot rule is fair game. The 30 foot rule is when your significant other smells better when he/she is 30 feet apart from you. 

I personally will never eat pho if I am not properly dressed for the occassion but there are some ways to avoid these unfortuante scenarios…. 

Keys to success: 

1. Never take a girl out to pho on a first date 

2. Bring a change of clothes

3. Eat at a well ventilated pho restaurant. (Here, you may want to call ahead and ask how many doors/windows they keep open) 

4. Wear easy to wash clothes. Dry cleaning clothes drenched in pho-roma will cost you the same as your pho meal. 

5. Buy my new Pho-breeze line of air-freshener, specially formulated to absorb the pho odors and release a pleasant pine scent. 

Pho Shizzle my nizzle

E