Welcome to Phoenix, home to 120 degrees dry heat summers.
Dry heat is a great marketing scam. Here’s what Phoenix really feels like:
Picture getting into your car only to be burned by the metal of the seatbelt, drenched with sweat from an air conditioner that blows marginally cold despite being on full blast, all the while wondering how you ended up in this sunny hell.
What goes better with a broken thermostat than a hot bowl of pho? The answer is another bowl of pho.
If you are looking to enjoy the benefits of a steam room while enjoying some of the best pho worldwide, come to Phoenix in the middle of July. You have two quality choices for pho, both equally refreshing during a scorching hot day.
1. Noodles Ranch
Noodles Ranch is located in Scottsdale and is my home away from home when I am in need of a quality bowl. My usual booth is informally reserved for me at the back left of the restaurant. Here you will find the friendly owner André doing it all- prepping the pho in the back to waiting on guests in the front. What sets Noodles Ranch apart from all of the pho mentioned in this Top 10 list is the focus on healthy eating. The beef cuts are lean, the broth is not oily, and the flavor is not lost.
2. Pho Thanh
Pho Thanh is a traditional pho restaurant. You won’t find any frills or anything fancy in this place. What you will find is a jam packed room of pho lovers including the local Vietnamese community, the curious first comers, and me, the pho king himself.
Pho Thanh serves as a much needed pho detox following a night out on the town as it is both casual and inexpensive. The authenticity of the pho is tough to beat and the lack of AC only enhances the genuine pho experience.
Fortunately, Pho Thanh promptly opens at 8:30am; no doubt due to the unbearable Arizona heat. Actually, because of a similar hot climate in Vietnam, pho, unknown to most, is a breakfast meal.
#8: Pho-nix Hotness
Everyone Likes Top Ten Lists
Even I, the angry professor, find myself clicking on those terribly captioned articles, “top 100 places to go before you die.” Whenever I do click on them, I realize that I have been to virtually none of them and probably will never to go to any of them making me more depressed than impressed.
#28, a private island with a restaurant underwater. Wait, I did go the Maldives.
Regardless, top ten lists of any kind always get people talking and clicking. So, I, in an effort to not conform will also put my own spin on some top 7 lists.
Of course, we have to start with the 5 greatest rapper of all time:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9lg6HqJeY0
The Cost of Roaming
Final Score: Savvy Beer Drinkers 100 – Benihana 0
“One Bud Light please,” I meekly told the bartender.
“That’ll be 40 Dirham,” she replied.
$11 for a beer and the night out in Dubai had only just begun. There was no way this evening was going to be cheap.
Similar to Singapore, Dubai and other Middle East countries charge a hefty premium for alcohol. In the UAE, the only way to buy alcohol for private consumption is to have a government issued license to go to a Costco-esque warehouse that exclusively sells alcohol. Having been in the desert for a month, I never found this alcoholic’s oasis. Alternatively, if you are visiting Dubai for a short period of time, you can take advantage of the duty free shops and bring in a few bottles without having to declare them at Customs.
Although this is inconvenient for the social drinker who enjoys pre-partying with friends before heading out, it is better than the policy in the Maldives, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia where the importation of alcohol is prohibited. This regulation is strictly enforced in the Maldives. There are stories from travelers who have tried to smuggle alcohol in their scuba tanks only to be caught at the border.
After a couple of weeks in Dubai the rations of vodka were beginning to run low with reinforcements not scheduled to arrive for another ten days. So, in order to not break the camelbank completely, my friends and I had to get creative.
We heard there was a Benihana in Old Dubai that had all you could eat sushi and all you could drink beer. Strategically, we made it there just as the promotion was beginning and found our own private teppanyaki room.
Some bland California rolls later, one of the geniuses that I was with thought this was an opportune venue to play the Taps Drinking Game. (a precursor to The Ugly Hungry American) It was my first time playing this game and till this day I still don’t know the rules. If I had to describe it as a football play, it would start as a halfback sweep to the right only to setup the weak side screen to the left in order to walk into the endzone. In other words, a player indicates he is going one way then fakes like he is going another so the next person in line is tricked.
Terrible explanation, notwithstanding, we had found an opportunity for alcohol arbitrage in one of the most expensive cities and took full advantage. I can’t count the number of bottles consumed at the table that night but I will never forget the great time had by all, except Mr. Hana’s bank account.
I have been told by locals that they no longer offer this food and drink special.
“It’s Like Riding a Bike.” Those words have haunted me for years.
The day arrived that I had to leave the incomparable Park Hyatt Buenos Aires for the insecurity of the Park Hyatt Mendoza. While both resorts are highly touted, the latter could not provide me with the same peace of mind as the former. This was not due to a lack of gracious service from the front desk. No, my trepidation was a result of the concierge that, without hesitation, recommended a bicycle tour in order to visit the local wineries.
A few panic attacks later, I arrived at the Garden of Eden, happy to be alive, surrounded by the beautiful views of endless Malbec grapes. Glasses later, I mustered the courage once again to hit the road, only now driving crooked for a different reason.
“It’s like riding a bike,” they say. Yeah sure, tell me that after I have gone through my first bottle.
Salud!
The Kama Sutra of Airplane Sleep: Surviving a 17 Hour Flight
“Your flight time will be 16 hours,” the flight attendant nonchalantly announced after going through the safety procedures.
This was the second time in four months that I would take this hellish route from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia back home. Having to endure this much time in the air never gets easy, especially when flying cattle class in a 2-3-2 configuration.
So how do you pass the time when there is no WI-FI, a movie selection that is uninteresting (seriously the episode of “Friends” and “How I Met Your Mother” needs to be changed), and your best efforts pleading for an upgrade to business class have been denied? The answer is sleep. But that is easier said than done.
Let’s go through all the annoyances that eliminate the chance of having a marginal night of sleep on the airplane.
The Annoyances
1. Meal service
Just when you are about to get cozy with that disgusting, old blue blanket, the flight attendant taps you on the shoulder and asks you if you would like dinner service. Groggy, you opt for the chicken because fish for dinner is out of the question.
2. The talkative seatmate
After that microwavable meal, you are about to sit back and relax, as far back as you can go, when the person next to you engages you in a conversation. Not wanting to be impolite, you soon find yourself listening to this stranger’s sad experience playing defense for his first AYSO soccer team. Hours later, the conversation finally ends when your new found friend excuses himself to go to the bathroom. With only seconds till he returns, it is time to find that perfectly uncomfortable position and play possum.
3. The flight attendant
But wait, just as you finally have found the one spot on that silly 2*4 inch white, hospital bed pillow, to perch your head on, you are, once again, awoken by the flight attendant. “Sir, do you have your seat-belt fastened?”
The new regulation requires you to have the seat-belt on top of your blanket which is almost impossible to do comfortably.
4. The reading light
Seat-belt fastened, food cleared away, tray table up, serenity is here at last. Not so fast, as the blinding light of the Luxor Vegas shines in your face. Your gregarious neighbor suddenly has found the energy to read Tolstoy’s War and Peace.
“I’m sorry does this bother you?” he asks.
5. The fuel stop
Exhausted, beaten, and distraught, at this point no light, no meal, no flight attendant warning, not even a loss of cabin pressure, could stop you from passing out. Then due to the limited range of the airplane, the plane must make a planned stop in Rome, Italy for refueling. The refueling takes 45 minutes and during that time you are not allowed to use your phone or go to the bathroom for security reasons. The cabin lights are turned on and in preparation for takeoff your seat that barely reclined in the first place must remain in the upright position. You sit there and wait too tired to complain, too tired to sleep.
Gassed up, ready to go, the plane heads down the runway bound for insomnia at 30,000 feet ready unfazed if annoyance 1-4 to happens all over again.
6. Wah!
Wildcard! How could I forget about that baby crying at the most inopportune time. Speaking of babies, I will say that turbulence for me is not an annoyance. It turns me into a happy baby, rocking me right to sleep.
But wait, there is a strategy for survival. It is the real mile high club- the Kama Sutra of Airplane Sleep.
The Kama Sutra of Airplane Sleep
1. The window
This is my personal favorite, I shove the pillow between the seat and the window and let the drooling commence.
Possible interferences: a) the window that is not correctly aligned with the seat making reclining and leaning impossible. b) the neighbor behind you bumping your chair forcing your pillow to fall.
2. The table
Put your tray table down, take out your portable Lysol spray, and plop your head straight down. Think of it like sleeping in class which by far was the best sleep.
Possible interferences: a) the neighbor ahead of you reclining his chair and smashing your neck. b) the delay of the flight attendant to clear your food.
3. The lean back
Push your chair back as far as that stupid, cold gray button will allow. Do not worry if your neighbor to the rear complains, etiquette allows for you to recline all the way. He can do the same. Then do your best grandpa after Thanksgiving dinner passing out in a recliner imitation.
Possible interferences: a)your neighbor is violent and intimidating. b) your neighbor acts out his violence by kicking your chair.
4. The brace position
For takeoff and landing, if you want to pass out quickly and you don’t want to take a chance of being disturbed by the talkative neighbor or the overzealous flight attendant, follow the safety video and embrace the brace position by putting your head between your legs and falling asleep.
Possible interferences: a) ribs grinding against you. b) neck cramps.
5. The friendly neighbor
Remember our scholarly neighbor? Well, if he or she was comfortable enough to talk to you forever, then surely he or she won’t mind if you lean on them for the duration of the flight.
Possible interferences: a) arrest. b) criminal prosecution.
6. The yoga qi
The yoga chi is an art that I have perfected over the years. It is my quest to find a holistic balance where it doesn’t matter if I am sitting in the window, middle, or aisle, because I can make myself comfortable, refusing to let the airline deny me good sleep. It is mind over matter at its finest.
Possible interferences: a) the image of walking through first-class and seeing lie-flat seats b) 16 hour flights.
7. The contortionist
The only way to sleep on a plane is to be a Cirque du Soleil contortionist and unconsciously cycle methods 1-6 throughout the flight. It would be hilarious to have a time-lapse video of me trying all of the Kama Sutra sleep positions all the while keeping my eyes closed- a requisite precaution to not get sidetracked by the annoyances.
*A quick note on performing enhancing devices: People who bring those silly pillows and accessories look dumb. I’d rather work on my qi than be the clown with an inflatable inner-tube pillow pretending to rest comfortably.
The Outcome
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are arriving in Washington D.C.” . . . and somehow you have survived another flight and you swear to yourself you’ll never fly coach again, promising to read Points101 and fly business for free.
Instead of lingering in the office for another day, make the conscious choice to quit
Guess what today is? If you have been reading my blog then you already know the answer is Hump Day.
If the novelty of renaming the day is beginning to wear off, then it is time to use the strength gained in Step 3: Be A Marathon Man and move onto Step 4 of my book Everyone’s Advice Is Wrong . . . Including Mine: Scorch The Bridge.
Per blog policy, here is an excerpt of the step below: The full text of my hiring, idling, and firing will be available in print and on Kindle in only a matter weeks.
This step came from my rich uncle. Well, he’s not really my uncle but you know how it is with Arab families. Anyhow, my uncle, who is tremendously successful, informed us that in the heat of battle, generals would scorch the bridge behind them, so troops would have no choice but to press forward and fight. Retreat was not an option. He counseled that the same tactic should be implemented when resigning from a job. Instead of lingering in the office for another day, make the conscious choice to quit and do so decisively. There was no time for wavering or second-guessing. Scorching the bridge, he said, was the end result of self-reflection, realizing that nothing could be gained from remaining idle. Such idleness, much like in times of war, would lead to death.
VIP no more, I headed back home outraged
I have designated Friday the day where the angry, perhaps whiny professor, gets to rant and rave much like Peter Griffin about anything that’s on my mind. Consider yourself warned.
Today’s topic: hotel customer service in the United States.
A friend of mine is in town this weekend for the usual partying in Scottsdale so naturally being a great friend, I volunteered to get him a room at the W Scottsdale, a Starwood hotel. Obviously, I had my own selfish motive- points.
Last year, I stayed at Starwood properties 25 times in order to qualify for platinum status. This provides 4PM checkouts, room upgrades, and, most critically, bonus points for free stays. Staying at hotels throughout the world, I quickly learned that status counts more than the size of your wallet. Upon hitting the coveted ‘platinum’ status I was invited into a world of pampering that I did not deserve. Everywhere I went it was “Mr. Bachuwa, is everything up to your standards?” “Mr. Bachuwa, we have taken the liberty of upgrading your room.” I was given a sneak peak of how the rich lived everyday and grew anxious at the prospect of being demoted down to lowly ‘gold’.
The difference in service are not to be scoffed at. Let me provide some examples:
St. Regis Mauritius
Hilton Doha
W Doha
Which brings me back to the W Scottsdale. I went to check-in, excited that I would, once again, be given the “Mr. Bachuwa” respect that should be reserved for my father, not a character like myself. Instead, the front desk didn’t even thank me for my loyalty failing to utter the sweet words, “We recognize your platinum status.” Worse, she told me I was in a standard room on the third floor. Entitled, I had to ask, “Aren’t there any suites available.” A quick “no” followed by the cold exchange of room keys and I was on my way.
VIP no more, I headed back home outraged that I was appropriately treated just like any other guest.
And it’s much bigger issues in the world, I know, but first I had to take care of the world I know. – Jay Z
Jay Z notwithstanding, it is remarkable how hotels overseas seem to take care of their guests with a different level of service and it’s not because of your status, your wallet, or your name. It’s just something that seems to come naturally. They want you to feel comfortable and will go out of their way to make you feel at home.
The same is true regarding domestic airlines versus international. Guess which one happened on a Delta flight and which one on Cathay Pacific?
“More f@!king peanuts,” as my knee is hit by the cart.
“Mr. Bachuwa, let me bring you some ice cream before we land. What flavor would you like?”
Now where’s that damn Starwood customer service number . . .
Where can you find the best Chinese food in the world? Flint, motherf$@king, Michigan.
Where can you find the best Chinese food in the world?
The answer: Flint, motherf$@king, Michigan.
Located right next to and across the street from two gentlemen’s clubs is positively, undoubtedly the best Chinese food in the history of civilization. Before you hit the X in the upper right corner, let me state the assumptions of how I arrived at this conclusion:
1. The study is based on an American’s tastes and preferences for what Chinese food should be.
2. The study does not take into account homemade food. In that case, my mom’s Chinese cooking would win.
3. The study is completely biased because I am from Flint, Michigan.
Here are the relevant portions of the 100+ page findings that will be published next quarter in the journal of The International Centre for the Study and Development of Chinese Foods.
Credibility of the Scientist
I have lived in Shanghai, traveled to just about every country in Asia, and love Chinese food. I also like to eat, a lot.
Sample Size
Obviously to assert something as the greatest in the world you have to try it all over.
Arizona: Let me first say that the worst place for Chinese food in the United States, without question, is Arizona. In the words of Chris Tucker, “How you gonna sell a bucket of grease.” They just don’t care about quality. It’s too much sauce, too much oil, and pretty much disgusting.
Incidentally, Arizona is the birthplace of P.F. Changs ,a funny joke in The Hangover 2, and an even bigger farce in the world of Chinese cuisine.
Grade: F
China: Clearly, the best Chinese food has to be in China rght?
Wrong. See assumption #1 stating that the study is based on an American’s taste. Chinese food in China is not American Chinese food. On the whole, Chinese do not like chicken breast. They prefer the odds and ends of chicken and usually serve it with skin and bones. Sadly, I did not come across this famous General Tso and his chicken in all my time in Asia.
That isn’t to say that the specialty dishes unique to each part of China are not delicious. Indeed they are.
Let’s go on a quick tour:
Chengdu: Hot Pot
Shanghai: Dumplings
Beijing: Peking Duck
You haven’t lived until you try these authentic dishes. At the same time, I have to mention the street food. After a night out, nothing is better than the local merchant making fried rice, noodles, dumplings, vegetables, and an assortment of meats, in his mobile cook stand. Furthermore, the price can’t be beat.
Finally, there is the fried rice. The fried rice in Shanghai that you get at some nondescript restaurant at 2PM or 2AM is the best in the world. It is ridiculous how good it tastes and beyond ridiculous how much they charge for an inferior substitute in the US.
But, apart from fried rice and specialty dishes, do not trick yourself into believing that going to China will be the MSG binge your heart so desires.
Grade: A-
Australia:
Melbourne is a great city for food. The diversity of the people ensures that you can find all types of delicious cuisine. However, I happened to pick the one Chinese restaurant in all of Melbourne where the food was plain and boring. The rest of the time we stayed clear of Chinese food.
Grade: Incomplete
India:
“Chinese Indian food in Delhi is the best!” Anshuman said. “Chinese Indian food?” What the hell was my friend talking about. Indian food in India, unlike Chinese food in China, is the best in the world, hands down. So I took him at his word and went out for some Indian Chinese food or vice versa. Let me tell you, besides the beautiful, exotic locale of Flint, Michigan; Delhi, India does have the best Chinese food in the world. It makes sense because Indians have mastered the art of curry, are excellent at making at variety of rice dishes (biryani being my favorite), and love spicy food as much as I do.
Take those skills, add in flavors from the Orient, and bam! You have appetizing Chinese Indian food.
Grade: A
United States: I have tried Chinese food all over the United States and nothing really stands out in terms of ‘wow’. Here are a few of the noteworthy places nonetheless:
Ann Arbor, Michigan: There were little mom and pop Chinese restaurants in Ann Arbor, Michigan that have since shut down that were great for the college budget in terms of quantity.
Grade: B+
Butte, Montana: This place was worth checking out because it was more like the Red Light District than a Chinese restaurant. You get your own little area behind curtains to drink and eat. From what I can remember the fried rice was great but the rest was meh.
Grade: B
Now for the winner:
Flint, Michigan: Empress of China
Home of the best crab cheese, American steamed dumplings (that the waiter likes to remind me even though I’ve been there 1000 times, takes fifteen minutes to prepare), hot and sour soup, New York egg rolls, curry shrimp, and most notably, princess chicken, Empress of China has something for everyone. I have been going there for decades and I still order the same thing and it is still as delicious as the first day I tried it. Many times when dining at Chinese restaurants, groups prefer ‘family style’ where everyone shares. Not my family. We each order our own princess chicken and grow anxious when someone wants to engage in a trade.
What makes Empress so good? Quality ingredients, a world of flavors, and who knows what else. It’s just so good. The pictures convey the meaning better than I can’t convey right now on an empty stomach.
#9: Trick Or Treat? Hong Kong Pho Halloween
Behold Hong Kong.
Whether you are coming in from Hong Kong International Airport (HKG), crossing the border via bus from Shenzhen, China, or making your way over water via a ferry from Macau, arriving in Hong Kong is nothing short of magical. The only other city that compares is Las Vegas. The energy and excitement that comes from staring out an airplane window and seeing the bright lights of the Vegas Strip never gets old much like the moment of arrival in 香港。
The first time I went to Hong Kong was October 30,, 2009. At the time, I was living in Shanghai, China and a friend of mine told me there was a group of Italian exchange students headed to Hong Kong and Macau for the Halloween festivities.
“They’ll meet you in the airport in Shenzhen, be sure to bring your tuxedo.” Puzzled as to why Halloween weekend was a black tie event, I visited my favorite tailor located at Lujiabang Lu 陆家浜路站 to get fitted for the ball.
007 tux in hand, I arrived at the airport and found my new friends at the universal meet up place, McDonald’s. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and took a bus bound for Macau Ferry Station. The plan was to party Vegas style in Macau the night before Halloween and then head back to Hong Kong for the main event.
We suited up and headed to the world’s largest casino, the Venetian Macau. Picture walking into the Bellagio in Las Vegas: You immediately hear the ringing of the casino slots, the shouts of the winners [and losers], and the inevitable drunkard yelling, “Vegas baby!”
Now, hit the mute button. Welcome to Macau.
While the city had the bright lights of Las Vegas, it did not have the party. The rapture had taken the atmosphere of Las Vegas and left behind boring, rich businessmen betting with $25,000 chips with no emotion regardless if they won or lost. In the middle of this glorified retirement home/bingo hall was seven Italians and one American, overdressed and underwhelmed.
After an uneventful night, we took the ferry to Hong Kong the next day. Since most of the world does not celebrate Halloween the way we do in the US and after being duped by Asia’s Vegas, my expectations were low.
Before the party began, I had to procure the final piece of my costume, a requisite hat that had fallen out of my bag in the airport. I went to the night market but stall after stall, merchant after merchant, but still left empty handed, though I was offered many “bags ‘a’ watches” for “best price”. Hours later, the search had come up empty. Frustrated, I was about to head back to the ‘Mansion’ rationalizing that not having a Halloween costume was not that big of a deal. Then I saw a welcoming, familiar sign that read: Pho- Delight Vietnamese Cuisine.
“Table for one please,” I said while pointing to the picture on the menu while making a gesture for a ‘big bowl’. A few moments later, the bowl arrived along with fresh spring rolls. Finally, I had found the comforts of home. It was a cathartic experience to squeeze the Siracha and Hoisin sauce into the steaming hot broth in preparation for a relaxing meal. Even with this rich, playful bowl in front of me, something was amiss. I couldn’t help but think about my incomplete Halloween costume. Sensing my apprehension, the kind waiter brought me more fresh sprouts.
Once again, my world was in balance. Upon emerging from my blackout of beef and broth, I found myself back in the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong. Bowl empty, belly full, I headed back out and double downed my efforts to find that elusive, mythological hat.
“Mission accomplished!” I said to the merchant as I handed over a fistful of Hong Kong dollars.
Dressed as shifu 师傅, a master of Kung Fu, I, along with my friends made our way to the party district of Lan Kwai Fong. While walking among the hundreds of thousands of partygoers, we found ourselves swarmed by paparazzi bombarding us with flashes from photos. What followed was the greatest Halloween party the world has ever seen.
Exhausted, I headed back to our luxury accommodations, knowing that as my night was ending the chaos in the real Las Vegas was only just beginning.
This was a Halloween weekend that I surely will never forget.
Verdict:
Macau-Tricked
Hong Kong- Treat
