Dine and Design: Authentic Chicken Pho

When I visit home from college, I’m usually welcomed with my favorite meal, a steaming bowl of chicken pho. The Vietnamese noodle soup has been one of my favorite foods since I was a child, and my mom would spend hours preparing the aromatic broth. Pho is somewhat of a cure-all to me–whether it be a bad day, a cold, freezing temperatures, or homesickness. It connects me to  Vietnamese culture and never fails to make me feel better.

In my poster design class, I recently created a triptych series of noodles–yes, noodles. For now, I’ll share the pho poster and provide you with a recipe that can inspire your next quarantine project.

 

Homecoming

 

Classic Pho Ga Recipe

Serves 6

 

Ingredients

For the broth:

6 star anise

6 cloves

1 tsp whole black peppercorns

3 pounds chicken backs, necks, or drumsticks (almost any cheap part will do)

1 whole chicken, cut in half

1 piece ginger, around 4 inches, cut in half

2 yellow onions, peeled

1/4 cup fish sauce

2 tbsp sugar

1 tbsp salt

For assembly:

1 pound dried rice noodles

1/2 yellow onion, sliced very thin

3 scallions, chopped

1/2 cup cilantro, chopped

1 pound bean sprouts

15-20 sprigs Asian basil

1-3 serrano chilies, sliced (optional)

1 lime, cut into wedges

 

Instructions

  1. Lightly toast the star anise, cloves, peppercorns in a dry pan for 2 mins then place aside
  2. Char the ginger and onion in an oven on the broil setting until soft and fragrant (around 10-15 mins)
  3. Bring 5 quarts water to a rolling boil in a large pot
  4. Add all the chicken, boil for 3 mins, then reduce to a simmer
  5. Skim the surface of the broth intermittently to remove fat
  6. Add the ginger, onions, fish sauce, sugar, and salt
  7. Cook for about 30 mins until chicken is cooked, then take out the chicken halves to cool
  8. Remove skin from the chicken halves and discard
  9. Add the peppercorns, cloves, and anise to the broth (in a spice bag if you have one)
  10. Cook broth for another 60 mins
  11. Shred the chicken halves into bite size pieces (you may need only half of it for serving and can save the other half)
  12. While broth is simmering, blanch the pho noodles in another pot of boiling water for 10-30 seconds until soft but chewy
  13. Portion the noodles, shredded chicken sliced onions, and scallions into bowls
  14. Bring the broth back up to medium heat, ladle the broth into each bowl and serve
  15. Garnish the bowls to your liking with the bean sprouts, herbs, lime juice, pepper and enjoy!

RM 1 for a doctor’s visit

I daydream of going home, where healthcare is universal.

Where I pay RM1 (USD 0.25) for a visit to the primary care doctor and RM5 for a referral to a specialist. A place where I don’t have to worry whether I should Uber to the ER or instead pay $500 for an ambulance. Health care is guaranteed and more importantly, shouldered by the government for each citizen. 

Last November, I ate with Mak Ngah (aunt in Malay) and her colleagues in New Jersey. She works for the Ministry of Health in Malaysia and is actively involved in the current pandemic. As I sat next to her eating microwaved briyani, she explained to me that her work is like the “FBI and CSI of outbreaks” in Malaysia. Then, her colleagues begin discuss about the epidemiology conference that they just attended. Things were normal. This was in 2019.

A month later, the outbreak in China begins.

Come March and April 202o.

14,000+ cases in Michigan. Malaysia on the other hand, a country twice the size of Michigan has 3,400+ cases. I’m not sure I have the words to express my shock that a developed nation, the self-proclaimed “greatest country in the world” has a sub-par healthcare system to Malaysia. I simply don’t. 

A few months ago I came to the ER department in Michigan Medicine. Though I was pleased by the service and excellent care, I balked at the cost of co-pay after insurance covered the ER visit. It was $75.

I could pay that. I’ll just have to take up an extra shift or two at work. Oh wait… the Uber was $19. Sigh.

Imagined if that happened this year when I automatically became unemployed. Gasp

What happens to the ones who can’t afford? Who lives and who dies? Who tells their story? I’m not going to claim that the healthcare system is perfect in Malaysia but the fact that I take it for granted  means that I am truly privileged to be doing so. It is an afterthought. I would have never in a million years guessed that my right to heal is a luxury.

Two years ago, I returned to Malaysia for an internship and upon knowing I needed to go to the doctor, I fretted about paying another $75 until my friend simply reassured me saying “Sarah, going to the doctor is RM1 here lah”. 

It’s just one ringgit.

(Credits: Mak Ngah, Hamilton Musical lyrics.// Image credits: Google Images)

The Wondrous World of Felipe Pantone

Felipe Pantone, an Argentinian-Spanish artist, creates futuristic, colorful art that breaks the boundaries of art technology. I first came across his work on Instagram, and naturally pored over his intriguing sculptures, described as “a collision between an analog past and a digitized future.” Infused with prisms of rainbow gradients, black and white glitches, and mesmerizing patterns, his art is an invitation to immerse oneself in another dimension.

Pantone acknowledges that he is “a byproduct of the technological age,” an identity that is familiar to we Gen Z’s and millennials. Growing up with the television and internet has shaped the ways in which we interpret visual information, something which Pantone plays with within his contemporary work.

Trained as a painter and graffiti artist, Felipe Pantone now holds shows all over the world and creates murals, sculptures, and paintings that tie together the natural and the digital–some can be read as “glitch art” and alludes to traditions of Futurism. His unique, futuristic, and dynamic works of art are also sometimes kinetic, allowing the viewer to experience different parts of the work as it moves. I find them completely alluring and fascinating–one day, I hope to own some pieces of his configurable art, such as works from the Modular Art System.

(All images from Felipe Pantone).

from chromadynamica

 

Mural from chromadynamica

 

SIN + MARCO from optichromie

 

Mural from optichromie

 

Process from planned iridescence

 

subtractive variability (kinetic color wheel)

Batik

Batik is an Indonesian technique of applying wax-resist dying on cloth. This technique is originally from Java, Indonesia although it has many roots elsewhere. It is usually drawn using the spouted tool on the left which is filled with wax. This method is called canting (pronounced as chanting). The other method is by printing using a copper stamp called cap (pronounced as chup).

Although Malaysia also has batik, the art form is most developed in Indonesia. Batik cloths or kain batik is used to make outfits such as shirts, skirts, matching top and bottoms and are even used in loose form such as table covers and as sarungs (now you know that is a Malay word) which is a loose wraparound tied to the waist. Other interesting uses include using the cloth as a bed sheet protector to prevent leaks during menstruation, as slings to carry babies, present wrappers and even occasionally made as a hat. When I was at school, almost every girl I knew owned at least one kain batik to use as a sarung or for menstruation purposes.

In Malaysia, batik motifs rarely depict animals or humans because Islam forbids animal images as decoration. Butterflies are an exception however. Malaysian batik is also more vibrant and uses different methods to draw its designs.

Interestingly, batik is also produced in Africa. This is because batik can be traced back to when the Egyptians embalmed mummies and the linen was dipped in wax and scratched with a stylus. Nelson Mandela was noted to wear African batiks frequently to his business and political meetings. Because of this, he became a fashion icon and was considered brave for wearing batiks everywhere whereas other leaders opt for the traditional Western attire.

Other batik influences include Japanese, Chinese, Sri Lankan and Indian motifs.

If you are interested in batik, you can purchase them over Etsy in loose form as sarungs. 

Chinese batik art works

(Credits: Wikipedia, Image source: Google Images)

The Media and Xenophobia: COVID-19 Edition

On March 1st, a tweet by the New York Post stated, “First case of coronavirus confirmed in Manhattan”, followed by a link to the article. The attached picture, however, was a photo of an Asian man in Flushing, Queens. While the caption was referring to the case of a middle-aged woman who had contracted the virus while traveling in Iran, the misleading thumbnail was an example of bias in the media and the perpetuation of racist stereotypes.

In the past few weeks, social media has been flooded with myths, memes, and warnings about COVID-19. Among these antics are tweets relaying incidents of racism, narratives by victims of xenophobia, and plenty of “reputable” sources exacerbating the creation of racial or ethnic connotations. There’s not only an outbreak of the virus, but of racism.

Fear, unsurprisingly, can make people do strange things. Across the U.S., stores are selling out of items such as toilet paper and hand sanitizer. Besides shortages and a spike in delivery services, anxiety about the virus is also bringing out racist underpinnings, and the result is not pretty. Text, images, and videos on various social media outlets portray discriminatory rhetoric and behavior against certain Asian identities, specifically those of Chinese descent. Reports include “No Chinese” signs outside of businesses in other countries, incidents of harassment in public areas such as subways, and tremendous losses by local Chinese restaurants due to lack of patronage. Luckily, there’s been an insurgence of people and online comments calling out the discriminatory behavior, but the problem still stands, especially when news outlets pander to rumors and xenophobic stereotypes.

During times of crisis like the current COVID-19 epidemic, it’s easy for fear to play into “legitimizing” discrimination against “outsiders” perceived as potential threats. While looking out for one’s own families, communities, and nation can be a good thing, what’s not a good thing is the exclusion or detriment of others. Relying on a sense of white nationalism won’t fix a global crisis, nor the spread of COVID-19 in our own country. By referring to the epidemic as a disease brought by dangerous foreigners, we create a metaphor for invasion; yet, however much we label the virus as an external menace, the truth is that it’s now within our own borders.

As the outbreaks continue to spread, so do panic, politics, and tension. While examining the details regarding the first COVID-19 diagnoses in Wuhan, China, it’s important to separate the facts from personal biases. This isn’t an argument on the origin of the virus, but rather an acceptance of the danger that comes with attaching certain identities to the virus. Racial undertones both demonize and detract the biological facts of the virus. By being sensationalist, the media is perpetuating a false image of the virus, thus causing people to be misinformed and antagonistic towards each other.

As someone who is immunocompromised and struggles to battle even simple colds or infections, I understand your fear of the virus and the unknown; however, as an Asian-American—or simply someone with a sense of humanity—I urge you to be aware and refrain from channeling fear into racism. The enemy is a virus, not the Asians that are being used as scapegoats. Rather than letting your fears and other emotions get the best of you, try your best to gather evolving information about the virus from a credible source. And, as always, wash your hands.

The Irony of Parasite’s Success at the Academy Awards

Parasite, directed by Bong Joon Ho, is a masterful South Korean black comedy film that has taken the media world by storm. After sweeping the 2020 Academy Awards in four categories, people are still talking about Parasite since its premiere in May 2019. at the Cannes Film Festival. It has achieved the monumental milestone of being the first South Korean film to win any award at the Oscars, ever. I have watched the movie twice and consider myself a big fan. Yet, I am not the only person to believe that Parasite’s success at the Academy Awards serves as an ironic reminder of the film’s true message.

Social and class equality form the basis of Parasite’s plot. A poorer family, the Kims, work their way into each being employed by the wealthy Parks, and the two families start to become interdependent before the tragic ending. The Kims depend on the Parks for their money, and the Parks depend on the Kims for their labor. Bong Joon Ho’s brilliant storyline highlights the disparity between destitute and extraneously rich families, ultimately satirizing the traditional rags to riches dream heard in developed nations.

But the Academy Awards themselves stand in direct contradiction to the film’s themes: the Oscars is traditionally a night of famous actors and actresses, big shot film producers and directors, and glitzy dresses and tuxedoes. The gift bags given to nominees this year, created by Distinctive Assets, had a total value of around $225,000 each, its 80 items including a gold vape pen, a 12-day yacht cruise, and $20,000 in matchmaking services. According to company founder Lash Fary, they only deliver the bags to “about 25 people”, meaning that they have to freedom to gift “the most insanely priced things.” It seems that the Academy Awards and the high cost of production and attending further illustrate the frustrating path of wealth within a capitalist society that preaches the merits of the American Dream that at the same time neglects the lower class.

Parasite seeks to illuminate the divide between extreme wealth and the stories of society’s downcast, impoverished, and displaced. Even the film is not free of complicated relationships–it was produced by CJ ENM, one of South Korea’s family-run large businesses. Director Bong Joon Ho suggests that within Parasite “no one is guilty–or perhaps, all are guilty.” Examined on a broader level, everyone in greater society is guilty in a way–we are all guilty of ignoring those who are different than us while simultaneously engaging in the exploitation of their stories. While capitalism, class, and society are intertwined in complex ways, Parasite’s positive reception indicates that at least we are somewhat self aware.