moving!

America's interstates really do all look the same. Mom and Dad driving ahead of me.

...2 days of driving later. One hand/eye on the wheel, the other trying to capture this moment at 85 mph.

Downstairs.

View from the loft upstairs.

It's been a whirlwind week of packing, driving, unpacking, furnishing the new place, and getting settled in while exploring the city. Everything happened so fast after match, but I guess it's time to get to work now.

witness protection program?

-new degree
-new job
-new city/state
-new apartment
-new(ly) tan s/p MS4 year
-new haircut
-new glasses

...same old me.

Old glasses. Wait, what, I'm not an MS4 anymore?

Incognito(?) in new glasses.

welcome to my family

While looking at graduation pictures together...

Mom (usually extremely critical in that Asian mom way)
Wow, these are nice pictures. You actually look really pretty.

Me (surprised)
You think so? Thanks, mom!

Dad (leaning closer to scrutinize)
Well no, not really. You're just photogenic.

we MaDe it!

Green for medicine, orange for Texas.

The last thing I ever made in my Dallas kitchen.

Graduation Cupcakes

What you need:
-4 years that fly by
-the perfect ballpoint pen
-countless hours in the carrels, library, Starbucks, and hospital hallways
-smiles, laughter, hugs, tears
-births, deaths, weddings, breakups
-lives saved, lives lost, patients and families of all ages, race, and walks of life
-humility and wonderment at being blessed with this opportunity at all
-amazing friends and loved ones to travel the journey with you

What you do:
1. Begin medical school in a strange new city with absolutely no idea what you're getting yourself into.
2. Be lucky enough to meet the most generous, strong, beautiful, intelligent, and loving people along the way.
3. Find yourself --- in the midst of zero hours of sleep, at 4am on call, with people dying all around.
4. Have faith that beginning residency --- in a strange new city with only a vague idea of what you're getting yourself into --- will bring just as much adventure and growth.
5. Bake bittersweet cupcakes. Frost, then top with an upside-down mini-Reese's peanut butter cup, a Ghirardelli chocolate square, and an M&M. Anchor with frosting.
6. Share with friends, and know that this isn't "goodbye," it's "see you later."

frittata

Frittata. What a cute, festive word. And I just improvised a super-simple one.

Shrimp and Caramelized Onion Frittata
serves 1

What you need:
-1 medium yellow or Vidalia onion, sliced as thinly as possible
-10 or so medium-sized shrimp, peeled and deveined
-2 eggs
-balsamic vinegar
-canola or other neutral cooking oil
-salt and freshly-cracked pepper
-lots of time and patience, or maybe a load of laundry to do simultaneously

What you do:
1. Caramelized onions: place 1 tbsp oil in a pan (NOT a non-stick pan) on low or low-medium heat. Add the sliced onion - it looks like a lot, but the volume will reduce greatly. This is not a saute. The idea is to slowly evaporate all the excess moisture out of the onions (~30 min on my stove), at which point the sugars will begin to caramelize and brown on the bottom of the pan. The first 30 min doesn't require much attention; I check on it and stir only about once every 5-10 min. After that, I watch and stir more frequently for the next 15-20 min to avoid burning and charring to the pan. Some brown stuck-on bits are good; just scrape them into the mix. This should all smell awesomely fragrant, and you'll know you're done when the brown bits start to stick more frequently and the onions are soft and sweet. At this point, add a splash of balsamic vinegar for sweetness and set the pan aside.
2. Preheat oven to broil.
3. Beat 2 eggs and season with salt and freshly-cracked pepper. Set this aside (have it ready so you can add it as soon as the shrimp are barely cooked through).
4. In a single-serving size skillet, place 1 tbsp oil on medium-high heat. Add shrimp and stir frequently until they are just pink and no longer translucent. This happens fast!
5. Lower heat to low-medium and add the caramelized onions. Distribute the onions and shrimp evenly throughout the skillet, then pour the eggs on top.
6. Cook until eggs are partially set (and mostly set on the bottom). Place skillet under broiler until top of eggs is set.
7. Remove frittata from oven, cut into wedges, and serve with a salad for brunch or a light dinner!

staying cool

Oh Asian drinks, how you sound and look so odd, yet taste so delicious and refreshing. Though it's been an uncharacteristically cool spring in Dallas thus far, there's no hiding the fact that Texas' summer heat is definitely approaching. When I was a kid, my mom used to make grass jelly (leung-fun, literally "cool starch/jelly") desserts and drinks for us in the summertime.

Grass jelly is made from the leaves and stalks of an herb called Mesona chinensis, a member of the mint family. It has a mildly herbal/bitter flavor, almost like an earthy pu-erh tea, with hints of lavender and licorice. You can find it in Asian grocery stores, where it comes as a single gelatin in a can (kind of like canned cranberry sauce). It's usually diced and served with sugar and ice, over shaved ice or ice cream, or in dessert beverages. Grass jelly is traditionally considered to have yin/cooling properties, so I guess mom knew what she was doing.

Soy and Grass Jelly Drink
serves 2

What you need:
-1 can grass jelly, chilled
-soy milk (I like unsweetened)
-2 tbsp sugar (or more to taste)

What you do:
1. Finely dice the grass jelly and scoop into 2 tall glasses (about halfway full).
2. Top off with soy milk.
3. Add sugar and ice and stir.

Incidentally, I found out that this black and white drink is called the "Michael Jackson" in Southeast Asia. Oh Asian people.

the fisherman

"Pura vida"
Costa Rica, April 2009

On our first day in Costa Rica, we took a sweaty, cramped, 4-hour bus ride from San Jose to Manuel Antonio on the Pacific Coast. We were the only tourists on a bus full of locals. Partly inspired by wonderment at this intimate glimpse of daily life, and partly attempting to distract my lovely travel companions from waves of nausea, I remembered a story and re-told it (poorly, I might add). Originally seen on a wall at Jimmy John's.

An American businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellow-fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them. The Mexican replied, only a little while. The American then asked, why didn't he stay out longer and catch more fish? The Mexican said he had enough to support his family's immediate needs. The American then asked, but what do you do with the rest of your time?

The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with mi esposa, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor.”

The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and can help you. You should spend more time fishing, and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But senor, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “15-20 years.”

“But what then, senor?”

The American laughed and said, "That’s the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO, sell your company stock to the public, and become very rich. You would make millions!"

“Millions, senor? Then what?”

The American said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play guitar with your amigos."

The allegory --- its message intensified by Costa Rica's "pura vida" motto, gorgeous beaches, volcanoes, and local friends made along the way --- fueled many a beer-hazed philosophical discussion that week.

As med school graduation nears, I remember why I first began this blog after college. Starting this project seemed both a reminder to distill my often absentminded musings into concrete ideas, and an efficient way to keep in touch (at least passively) with friends far and near. Maintaining a blog is a different beast entirely. I began to reflect (and write) less frequently during the busy clinical 3rd/4th years of med school --- ironically, the years yielding to date the highest highs and the lowest lows I've ever experienced intellectually, emotionally, and physically. I have no doubt that residency will push the limits even farther, and I hope I will take the time to reflect along the way (read: the blog is back!)

That said, life isn't always so serious (though I often am), and most of what ends up on here is trivial shit just for entertainment. Mostly mine, but hopefully yours as well.

A few more from Costa Rica.







To Alberto, Rodolfo, Diego, and Harlem: thanks for being our fishermen.