Vietnamese food is all the rage in New York City now. Over the last few years, trendy restaurants have been serving bun, pho, and banh mi like my mother never would have predicted. There have always been decent spots in Manhattan Chinatown, with my favorite banh mi spot out in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, but no place has really stood out to me as being a place I really love.

In recent months, new “modern” Vietnamese spots have opened, ones that claim to use ingredients that are locally sourced, meat that is grass-fed with no antibiotics and hormones, and organic produce. One of these spots is Hanoi House in the East Village, where my friend and I met last night. I was skeptical about paying $16 for 16-hour Northern Vietnam-style pho, but I was tempted, especially since I want to get my mind out of the thought that “ethnic” food should be “cheap.” My friend and I shared a manila clam rice porridge, a papaya and pig ear salad, and the 16-hour pho with bone marrow, and I couldn’t have been happier. The pho was probably one of the clearest, cleanest beef broths I’d ever had, with a depth where I could literally taste all the elements of pho: charred onion, roasted and simmered bones, star anise, and all of the other different herbs. If the broth had stayed hotter for longer, I probably would have finished it all myself after my friend had her share.

There’s really nothing worse than taking medication. Medication sucks. I don’t care what you think about this because who wants to take any substance regularly every day unless it’s weed or something else that actually makes you feel good and happy? I say this because I’ve come down with a bit of a cold in the last couple days, and as my home remedy, I’ve been making massive amounts of hot water with honey, lemon, ginger, and turmeric. I took maybe two packets of Theraflu begrudgingly, but as I took all this, I thought about how at the last two offices where I’ve worked, the office managers always stocked Emergen-C in the medicine cabinet, and people flocked to it like birds during cold and flu season. At the first sign of a cold, as though Emergen-C was the end-all cure for all colds or nasal congestion, people would dissolve it in hot water and drink their berry or orange artificially flavored vitamin C as though it was God’s gift to humankind. It was always one of the most disgusting things ever. People are really into their artificial 1,000-mg serving of Vitamin C as long as it’s in a packet, it’s not natural, and you have to pay extra money for it as a dietary supplement or medication. Let’s just forget the fact that vitamin C is water-soluble, which means that once your body has taken in 100% of its daily value, it will just expel the rest of it out of you. And let’s also forget that you can eat your orange or apple or whatever fruit of choice that is really high in vitamin C and basically get better nutritional and health value out of that.

Our society has truly stopped valuing what is naturally healthy (real food! Fruit! Vegetables!) and instead has turned to medication and dietary supplements as a substitute for leading a healthy lifestyle. And they think they are being smart for it (hence the excitement and self-satisfaction in taking Emergen-C in the office. It’s like an announcement I constantly hear at desks near mine when the weather becomes cold).  It’s really no wonder why people come down with the cold every year (the average adult in the U.S. gets the common cold 2-3 times per year!) multiple times, why obesity is so high, and why Americans as a group are just so unhealthy compared to the rest of the developed world.

Just eat your damn orange, drink your lemon water, and be healthy.

One thing that always gets people out of work early is a well priced happy hour in New York. However, “well priced” and “happy hour” seem to mean different things to different businesses, especially in the Flatiron area where things tend to be pricey in general. Tonight, I met with my colleague and then two friends for dinner at Casa Neta, a new chic Mexican spot that opened, and the “Happy Hour” was $10 margaritas and $8 beers. Well, that’s what the website said. Then, you go to the bar, and you find out that the $10 margarita only applies to the classic margarita, not the flavored ones, and in my excitement I ordered one hibiscus margarita, then one mexcal margarita. And the bartender didn’t say a word about the pricing until the check came. And when I did order a classic margarita when my friends arrived and we had a table, the drink never came until 45 minutes later, when I had to remind the waiter I ordered it. This place was bullshit.