Category Archives: Health

Homemade milk bread rolls

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Several months ago, I successfully made a loaf of Japanese milk bread. I originally attempted this during the pandemic, but I didn’t have bread flour and only had all-purpose, and the bread was completely wrong — not the fluffy, airy, super moist bread that you think of when you hear of Japanese milk bread. When I finally attempted it again last year and succeeded, I knew I had to make this bread more often. It’s so satisfying to make, and as long as you have the right ingredients (as in, bread flour for higher gluten development, dry milk powder, and instant yeast as opposed to dry active yeast), then it’s pretty much fool-proof. While cooking and baking (desserts) have always been fun and satisfying for me, baking yeast breads has a whole different level of satisfaction for me. I love every part of the process — measuring out the ingredients, mixing and kneading the dough, watching the two rises, and baking. I look at every bread I’ve made as though it were my little baby — being made, grown, and developed. Tonight, I baked up the milk bread rolls after mixing and kneading the dough last night. I started mixing after I put Kaia to bed last night. She knew I was in the kitchen and kept calling out to me.

“Whatcha doing, mama?” she called out from her bed. “Are you cooking?”

I went back to her bed to settle her down and try to get her to close her eyes. “Mama is making bread, baby!” I said to her. “If you’re good, then maybe you can have some when it’s ready!”

Kaia loves “soft bread.” She loves to remind me of this. When she says this, she means that she loves soft, fluffy bread with a tender crumb — brioche, challah, and milk bread are all in this category. She also does not like a crunchy toast the way I do. Are these the most nutritious breads? No. But they are deeply satisfying to make and eat. And I always get excited whenever my baby enjoys anything I make with my own hands.

Speaking of nutrition, though, I was thinking about this recipe developer/cookbook author I follow and love, who is currently pregnant and was diagnosed early on with gestational diabetes. While I’m sure this was frustrating for her as someone who loves food, one interesting thing she shared was that when she bakes her own bread from scratch, her blood sugar levels do not spike. But when she eats bread not made by her (so bought outside), her blood sugar goes crazy. If you know of anyone or have yourself had gestational diabetes, you’ll know that in dealing with this during pregnancy, you have to prick yourself at least once or twice every day and carefully monitor your blood sugar level to ensure it doesn’t go over a certain amount. So when I heard that homemade bread didn’t spike her blood sugar, I felt a bit better about my love of making these “soft breads” that are not made from whole wheat or whole grain flours. Though i will say openly that I do do slightly sacrilegious things and add whole wheat flour to my brioche and challah to increase the nutritional profile.

I was almost 40 years old when I discovered glass nail files

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I’ve had a nail and cuticle picking habit since I was about 12 years old. I have a feeling that some of it is genetic, as both my dad and Ed are nail and cuticle pickers. I tried all kinds of things to resolve this: I tried different nail oils and creams. I cut and filed my nails down really short (which is actually more hygienic given I cook so much). Chris and my friend even yelled at me regularly when they’d catch me picking. Nothing ever helped other than getting manicures, which tended to get very expensive and is a huge time commitment. There was a period in my mid-twenties when I actually did my own nails regularly in between having different vendor partners pay for manicures. But then I got too impatient and let it go. I realized that if I liked the way my nails looked (perfect, polished, manicured), then I wouldn’t be tempted to pick at them. And then once Kaia was born, the idea of doing my own nails or going to a salon just seemed like too much — too much time, too much money, too much dedication. Plus, regular nail polish doesn’t last long when you have kid responsibilities and cook regularly. I don’t want the risk of flaking nail polish into our food!

So I was reading about DIY “natural manicures last year. I found some kits that were in the $40-60 range, and this all seemed crazy to me. But then when I read the reviews for these kits, I realized that the key part that everyone raved about was the glass nail file — this seemed to be the real game changer. I vaguely remember buying (and breaking…) a glass nail file back in my 20s. The reviews say that if you commit to using a glass nail file, you don’t even have to cut your nails anymore. You file in one direction, and your nails will be super shiny and nice without any product.

I found highly rated glass nail files on Amazon late last year. I even brought them to Australia/the Philippines. Once I used them, I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to find them. My nails no longer had the annoying jagged edges that would snag like when I file with a (terrible!) cardboard or plastic nail file. The nail tips actually were shiny because of the glass; I couldn’t believe it. So because of this one change, I’ve actually stopped picking at my nails since December. I still pick at my cuticles, but that’s another problem to be addressed. It’s one thing at a time!

I’m still oiling my cuticles regularly to prevent the dryness (which then tempts me to pick at them), but my nails have honestly never been better. What a find that’s benefited my nail health – glass nail files!

Yellow card goes missing; and a silver lining in the world of American healthcare

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Last summer when we went to South America, Chris got into a tizzy because he couldn’t find our official yellow cards, showing proof that would be recognized by any government around the world that we were both vaccinated against yellow fever. In the end, thankfully, we didn’t need them, but he still wanted to figure out where the cards went. Neither of us ever found them; we have no idea where they went or how they would get lost, especially since both of us are pretty anal with documents of that nature. So he suggested that I at least try to reach out to my travel medicine clinic in the city to see if they still had my record.

I called them yesterday and asked if they still had my record; luckily they somehow did, even though they told me they typically discard records after ten years. I had my yellow fever vaccine done in May 2014, so that’s almost 12 years ago now. I did that in preparation for our Brazil trip, which was in June 2014. They told me that to fill out the yellow card, I’d just need to stop by their office during regular hours and pay $35 for the card. I came in today with my credit card ready.

Not only did they already have the yellow card ready and filled out for me at the desk, but they also told me a piece of unexpected news: they asked the doctor about my yellow card, and they told the front desk to waive my $35 yellow card fee completely. I was floored; how often do you get any fee waived regarding anything American healthcare related? Most doctors, facilities, and health insurances just want to take everything they can get for you. I just couldn’t believe it. I thanked them profusely, secured my new and free official yellow card in my purse, and walked out.

It’s so nice to have a pleasant surprise like that in the world of U.S. healthcare, which is one of the worst parts of the U.S. I left the travel medicine office feeling hopeful.

The necessity of soup at the Chinese dining table: an ode to my paternal grandma

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Growing up, I remember there was almost always a massive stockpot full of some kind of broth or soup on the stove. Sometimes, it was a gentle herbal chicken soup. Occasionally, it was a thick and packed jook/congee with lots of different proteins, like chicken, pork, tofu skins, shredded dried and rehydrated scallops. Other times, it was a ginseng-based tonic meant to “cool” our bodies from eating too many rich foods. Regardless of what was in the big pot, I grew up knowing that soup was an integral part of our diet at home. It was rare to have a day when there was no full stockpot on the stove. It was an everyday occurrence to hear my grandma, mom, or aunt insist that Ed and I “drink soup.”

Soup was the antidote to everything. You ate too much fried food? Drink soup. You aren’t feeling well? Drink soup. You’re feeling sluggish or tired? Drink soup. Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) has a soup or tonic for pretty much anything you can complain about.

I started getting back into thinking about soup more regularly after I gave birth to Kaia in December 2021. My aunt had lovingly sent me ingredients to make a specific Chinese chicken wine soup (雞酒湯 ji jiu tang), which she insisted would nourish my body to recover quickly from childbirth, while also simultaneously helping my body to produce more milk for my baby (debatable, but it was still tasty). Two years ago, I started being more intentional about making soup. And this year, I am trying to make soup even more often. It’s delicious, nourishing, tasty, and given it’s been so cold this winter, who could say no to a hot bowl of soup? Soup rounds out any meal. In China, there is a saying called san cai yi tang (三菜一汤), meaning “three dishes and one soup,” which is a foundational principle of a balanced, home-cooked Chinese meal that is meant to be shared. It’s typically a meat/protein, one vegetable, one tofu/egg/seafood dish, alongside a nutritious soup. The soup type can vary depending on how it complements the other dishes at the table, but more often than not at home, the soup is a very simple broth that is lightly flavored and seasoned.

I made a simple home-style soup today called yuanzi tang (圆子汤), or pork meatball soup. I was inspired to make it because this blog post by Xueci Cheng, a recipe developer I follow, talked about how integral soup was to her family’s meals in Sichuan growing up. It reminded me of how I ate with my family growing up. And similar to me, she also had forgotten how soup was always at the dinner table at home, as she had moved away to Germany, and soup had mostly been forgotten as a thing to have at a meal. So she made this same soup, and she said when her parents made it for them all during their visit to see her in Germany, they immediately said at the first sip once it was finished cooking that it “tasted like home 家的味道.” This soup is really simple. There’s no required broth base, as it’s mostly flavored by the fat and flavor from the pork meatballs you make (though I did use a cup of dashi I happened to have in my fridge). But after I seasoned it, it really did remind me of the simpler, light home-style soups my grandma used to make when I was little.

My paternal grandma passed in 1995. If she were alive today, she’d be 109 going on 110 this September. Her only granddaughter just turned 40 last month — that’s me. I wonder how she’d feel knowing that even 31 years after her death that I still think about her and her cooking often. I wonder if she’d be pleased to know how much of an impact she’s had on my life and the way I view food, cooking, and our shared culture. She never thought cooking was that great of a skill; for her, it was just something she knew and did. It fed her family (and around Lunar New Year, it fed her friends), and that was enough for her. But in these moments when I taste things that remind me of her and her cooking, I do find myself missing her and wishing we could share that same taste together.

First world problems: Bad food at CLT airport, the wait list that keeps you waiting at the CLT American Express Centurion Lounge

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Trying to eat “healthy” while on the road, especially for work, can be really challenging. You often hear of people who travel frequently on business say that it’s hard to eat a well-balanced diet when you are constantly on the go. Even when you think you may be choosing the “healthy” option, hidden *extra* things like fats, sugars, and weird thickeners and preservatives lace your food with all the nasty things you’d ideally like to avoid.

When I got to CLT yesterday, I wanted to get some kind of fruit in, but I wasn’t sure how to do this. I scanned all the food options in the “plaza” area of CLT around the E gates, and I found an acai bowl stand. That sounded promising, I initially thought. I went up to the stand, decided on a protein acai smoothie, added some mango, and ordered. But when I took the first sip, I almost gagged.

“Is there added sugar in this?” I asked the employee who made it for me. It tasted like there were several tablespoons of sugar added to this. Acai is not naturally sweet at all; mango and berries would also not have made this that sweet. So where the heck was the intense sugar hit coming from?

She shrugged her shoulders. “I just followed the proportions,” she said to me nonchalantly.

I hate wasted food. It’s ingrained in my DNA; it’s almost like I feel pain in my body when I have to throw food out. As a young child, I got lectured and yelled at more times than I can count by both my paternal grandma and my mom that they grew up with barely enough food, so Ed and I were lucky to have more than enough to eat every single day. So even if food didn’t taste good, we were still expected to eat and finish it. So, I ended up drinking the rest of that likely-refined-sugar-laden acai smoothie. I rationalized it in my head as, well… I barely ate anything else today, so who really cares if this is what my body has to feed off of today?!

Chris kept reminding me to go to the American Express Centurion Lounge at CLT because last year, he signed me up for an American Express Platinum card (for a big bonus that he insisted was worth it), and one of the perks was that I could get airport lounge access (when I wasn’t with him, since I get access when traveling with him due to his Qantas status). I checked the status of the lounge online, obtained the QR code, and went to the front desk. And then, I very politely got turned away because the front desk guy told me they could let me in only up to three hours ahead of my flight; I was there 3.5 hours ahead of my departure time.

I know this sounds spoiled, but wow. I felt like such a pleb in that moment. I just got turned away from an airport lounge when I was supposed to have this shiny card that would get me access. AHHHHHH.

So after twenty minutes (and eating a subpar sandwich for dinner), I went back into the AmEx app to see if I could generate a new QR code. Well, I had no such luck: I had to get on the wait list. I put my name in, and I got a confirmation I was on the wait list. And well… 1.5 hours later, I never got off the wait list. By that time, I had to walk 12 minutes to a different concourse to get to my gate to board. The entire experience was miserable, unsavory, and definitely did NOT scream “premium experience” whatsoever. Or maybe I’m just annoyed and cranky because this entire travel experience thus far has been awful, and I’m getting older and just feel like I am losing patience for situations like this.

Too many people have this American Express platinum card. Unfortunately, as classist as it sounds, you just cannot create premium experiences for everyone. Because if everyone has access to the premium experience, then it is no longer a true premium experience. Chris poked fun at me, saying that I am just spoiled now by always having access to fancy lounges through him. That’s probably true. When you have nice things… you kind of get used to them.

Maybe I am truly a capitalist after all.

The mental load of cooking and managing perishable and pantry ingredients, and food as a love language

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A few months ago, I told Chris that sometimes, despite the fact that I obviously enjoy cooking and food, it can feel like a burden to keep track of all my ingredients — what we have versus what we need, what we’re low on, and then figure out what we need to top up. For example, because I have food ingredients spread across several areas of the apartment due to limited space and no central pantry, I didn’t realize that I actually still had four pounds of dried Garofalo pasta in various shapes; these packages were hiding behind some of his Australian snacks in the side “pantry” we created by the laundry. So because of this, I went to Trader Joe’s and purchased two pounds of dried Italian pasta in other shapes. It wasn’t a big deal because these are dried pantry staples that don’t go bad, but it still annoyed me. So Chris politely told me in the nicest way possible (which is impressive for him given he can be very blunt and snarky) that maybe, I could consider “making simpler food.”

I stared at him as though he told me that I should “go back to China.” What the hell kind of a solution is that? I don’t want to eat blander food, and I love the fact that we have so much variety in this house. I relish that our pantry is well stocked enough so that I can make various types of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Indian, Italian, American-esque, and Middle Eastern dishes whenever I feel like it and just need to get some fresh produce to make it happen. There’s no way that I could possibly make “simpler” food because I just wouldn’t be as happy or satisfied. Nor would our gut biomes be as diverse.

Since we’ve got back, I scrolled through my camera roll of a few of the things I made (I don’t photograph the everyday things like roasted or sauteed vegetables most of the time because they’re so regular), and this is what it looks like: Sichuan-style stir-fried chicken, mushrooms, and vegetables; lobia masala (Punjabi black-eyed pea curry), Cantonese-style braised tofu and egg; Pork rib and lotus root soup; tahini granola, di san xian (Dongbei-style stir fried eggplant, potato, and bell peppers); kung pao style stir fried lotus root and peanuts; Cantonese-style beef stew with daikon and tofu skins; turkey chili (using my new gifted Burlap and Barrel ancho, pasilla, and guajillo chili powders). Tomorrow, I’ll be making vegan creamy mushroom pasta (with silken tofu as the secret “creamy” ingredient)! The food this month has leaned heavily Chinese, but it’s also because for whatever reason (maybe because I’m officially middle aged now?!), I’ve had cravings for food of my childhood, hence the beef stew and the lotus root/pork rib soup. But even if most of it is Chinese, it’s still a pretty eclectic variety. We don’t do “pasta Mondays” or “mashed potato Fridays” or whatever regular theme that a lot of families I hear about do where both parents are working (or leading a “life of service”) and need to minimize the mental load of daily family dinner. I like that it’s different, and it also exposes Kaia to endless variety to keep her palate guessing.

And at the end of the day, I love cooking for those I love, not just myself. I like knowing I nourish Chris and Kaia, plus any family and friends that come visit us. Food is one of my love languages. So while sometimes friends can make fun of me and tell me they never would guess I’d be such a traditional mom or wife, I’d like to look at it a different way: this is just how I show I care and love, and so I do it because I love.

Cantonese style beef stew with daikon and tofu skin 萝卜腐竹牛腩

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Growing up in a Cantonese household and with a Cantonese paternal grandma, I was exposed to endless Cantonese delicacies and dishes that I am sad to say, I oftentimes have forgotten about. Some dishes, like Cantonese dim sum, zongzi, or wonton mein have stayed with me as staples in my current eating life. Others have completely disappeared from my consciousness. But then I occasionally get reminded of dishes my grandma either used to make herself or would order out when we went to restaurants, whether that is through seeing pictures and videos on social media or by looking at restaurant menus, and then I am taken back to those delicious moments of food discovery and appreciation.

One of the dishes my grandma never made at home, but my dad always loved ordering for lunch at casual Cantonese restaurants, was Cantonese style beef stew, usually served in a claypot with rice, and almost always with braised daikon. Occasionally, some restaurants would add tofu skins to their stew, but many just had different cuts of beef stew and tendon with a generous sprinkling of bok choy, and always with copious amounts of steamed rice to sop up all the delicious, umami beef stew juices. The stew was always extremely fragrant of five spice powder and star anise. It was comfort food for my dad, and then eventually it became comfort food for me. I rarely order it as an adult, as when I go to Cantonese restaurants, it really hasn’t been top of mind. But occasionally, I will get beef stew as a topping on my wonton mein, or as a small side when ordering takeout. Most places I tried were a bit disappointing — something was lacking, or the quantity of food I got was just too tiny. So I was really happy to find some recipes for this dish developed by recipe developers I follow that made me realize how easy it is to make at home with a little time. Other than the beef stew meat and daikon, I usually have all the other ingredients ready in my pantry, so this recipe was beckoning me to make it! So I “gave it a go” yesterday, and the result far exceeded any version I’ve had in New York to date! Variations of this will be on rotation in our home moving forward. Chris ate some and declared it “not bad, pretty good,” which is his version of a glowing compliment. Kaia did not say anything about the stew, but she did quickly and eagerly eat all the beef stew pieces from her plate during dinner time tonight!

Mild food poisoning, but this time, for mama and daddy

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Last night when I came back from the mall with Kaia and her new (and less than $3 USD) sandals in tow, I discovered that Chris had arranged a surprise birthday meal in our hotel room. The staff and the hotel chef were there setting up. They had organized birthday balloons, streamers, and a beautifully laid out table, even complete with a high chair for Pookster. The meal consisted of a seafood soup, wagyu steak with fries, garlic rice (of course), caesar salad, plus several huge slices of chocolate mousse cake. After eating earlier in the day along with some fruit smoothies, this felt like a lot of food, but we tried to do what we could to do justice to this beautiful meal the chef had put together for us.

This morning after brushing my teeth, I could immediately tell that something didn’t feel right in my stomach. I had that strange, queasy feeling that told me that I had eaten something bad. I even started feeling light headed, and a strange, muted pain was going down my neck. After eating a very light breakfast at the hotel buffet, I told Chris that I’d need to lie down while he and Kaia went out to have one last beach outing. At 12:30, we’d need to get on our shuttle, boat, and shuttle back to the airport, where we’d fly to Manila to spend our final night in the Philippines before heading back home to New York.

As I was lying in bed, I kept thinking that at least I got food poisoning towards the end of trip, rather than at any other time; it’s the least disruptive to our days. The last time I remember getting any real food poisoning was in Vietnam during my trip with my parents in January 2008; I was so sick that I was in bed for at least three days at the hotel. Then, I needed to be near a toilet at all times because I had such awful and sudden diarrhea. That was also at the tail end of our trip. My mom got so worried about me that she called our travel agent to shorten our trip by a couple days so that I could go home and “see a real doctor!”

We got our laundry done from the laundry services just across the street from the hotel, and so all our swimsuits were washed and dried. So Kaia ended up having to wear a t-shirt and her underwear to the beach (luckily, she’s still at an age where none of this matters to her). She happily went out with Daddy to have more ocean and sand time. I took some Pepto Bismol, Tums, and lid down on the bed for about two hours. Eventually I was able to get up and feel a little bit better, but I still had this lingering feeling of malaise all over me. I went out to meet them at the beach for a little bit just to get some fresh air and braced myself for the short boat ride that was ahead. I was really hoping that the water would be calm. The last thing I’d want was to vomit in transit.

Luckily for me, the water was very calm (I guess it just gets turbulent at night during high tide). So I was successfully able to get to the airport without throwing up. This was a huge win for me because all I could think of was… the very last thing I wanted was to end this trip covered in my own vomit.

We had a good flight back to Manila. And after checking into our hotel, having a light dinner at the lounge, and getting back to our room, I discovered that Chris also wasn’t feeling well. He spent a good amount of time on the toilet (at least it went out that way and not the other way), and then eventually went to bed. He clearly was not well. Kaia’s stool also wasn’t extremely solid, but her mood seemed to be happy (I’m so thankful to have a happy child). So preventively, we gave her one Tum before bed (she loves these things now! She keeps asking if she can have more medicine…). After a few hours of sleep, I woke up in the middle of the night to get Kaia to dream pee, and I realized that my upset stomach feeling was gone. What replaced it… was a general unwell, cold feeling. My throat was still sore, as this had begun on New Year’s Day. I was still coughing. I had phlegm. And I had a feeling some coughing fits may be in my near future, which is such terrible luck for me because I just had a cold like this back in late October!!

Traveling while feeling unwell is never fun. But being sick on a plane with recycled air is probably one of the worst situations. At least we are flying Cathay Pacific, so if I need hot broth, I have a feeling they will be able to provide me a very good one!

When your 4-year-old gets food poisoning and poops in her bed at 3am

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Chris and I are still taking turns waking up in the middle of the night to take Kaia to the potty to “dream pee.” We decided not to put her in pull-ups for this trip since it would be too long of a time frame out of this routine and might cause her to regress. Our bodies have a muscle memory, so we thought doing that would set her back too much. Our goal, of course, is to have her wake up on her own to pee if she needs to, and to stay dry all night. It was my turn last night to wake up to have her pee. I set my alarm for 1am, but at around 12:30, she woke up and came to our bed. I touched her bottom and realized she was already wet. This seemed a little odd to me; I had been able to wait until 1:30 or even 2am to have her pee, but I didn’t think much of it. So I cleaned her up, lay a towel on top of the small wet spot on her bed, and had her go back to sleep. Kaia fussed and indicated she wanted me to stay. So I ended up staying there and passed out until 3am, when I woke up to go back to my own bed.

Within 10 minutes of going back to my own bed, Kaia started crying. She jumped out of her bed and ran to me. And before I even touched her, I immediately smelled something very foul. I touched her bottom and even in the darkness, I could see that my hand was covered in something dark and mushy.

“Oh, no, baby!” I exclaimed lightly. “Did you poop in the bed?”

She had this pained look on her face. “It was an accident! It was an accident!” she said over and over. Then, she told us her stomach hurt. And then the sequence of events made even more sense.

I proceeded to clean her and her poopy shorts. Chris gathered the towel I lay on her bed, and luckily it caught almost everything. He emptied it into the toilet, then called housekeeping to see if they could help with this emergency cleanup and new bedsheets. Luckily, they came up right away and were quite gracious about the whole accident. We had to keep Kaia in a towel just in case — we had no idea if everything had come out, or if there was still more to come. I was bracing myself if she might not be able to control her bowel movements while sleeping for the rest of the night. It’s not like we had easy access to laundry here.

From the smell of her poop, I could tell immediately that it had to be the seafood lunch we had on the boat the previous day. Although lunch was quite tasty, it clearly did not sit well with my sweet baby’s young tummy. Luckily, Chris and I got through the night and the rest of today just fine, so our stomachs were not negatively impacted by the same food Kaia ate. As the day went on, it seemed like Kaia was doing just fine. Her poops were more solid; she seemed to be in a good, chipper mood. She said her stomach no longer hurt. So we’re lucky that this passed through her relatively quickly.

i always wondered when Kaia’s first poop accident or poop-in-bed might happen. And well, now, it finally happened, and I suppose with “good” reason since she got a mild case of food poisoning. I felt so proud of her for getting through the day and being so good about it all.

20% Azelaic acid in the U.S. vs. Australia

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I learned about azelaic acid for skincare a few years ago, as a low percentage of it was in a face toner I bought meant for helping with hyperpigmentation and fading sun spots. The toner didn’t do anything for my skin, so I stopped buying it. But the ingredient kept coming up in conversation with my esthetician, who highly recommended it for treating and preventing sun spots. Azelaic acid has been heavily researched in recent years and has been demonstrated to diminish skin blemishes and help fade sun spots and post-acne marks, refine skin’s surface, and help to fight inflammation.

In November when I went for a dermatology visit, the dermatologist suggested I use a 20 percent azelaic acid cream that would require a prescription. She warned me ahead of time that my insurance would unlikely cover it given it is for cosmetic reasons. So when I went to CVS just to ask how much it cost, the pharmacist looked up the product and actually laughed out loud as she responded, “A tube for a one month supply would be $648 (USD).” I gasped.

Wow. That was like paying rent. I told her that I’d pass on it, and I immediately started researching other ways to either source this product, or to get a slightly lower dosage. Chris suggested I look it up in Australia, as a quick Google search revealed that this product did not require a prescription there. So we went to Chemist Warehouse today, where I asked the pharmacist. He confirmed to me that it did not require a prescription here, but it was behind the counter. He grabbed a tube for me and said it was just one unit per customer (and then Chris went to request a second tube). The cost for this tube: $18.99 AUD ($12.54 USD). So, $648 vs. $12.54 it was. That is beyond crazy to me! The price wasn’t even remotely in the same ballpark! Well, it’s clear there are massive benefits to having access to behind-the-counter pharmacy items in two different countries — and especially outside of the U.S.