Author Archives: Yvonne

Bibimbap with a gochuchang-based sauce that doesn’t have corn syrup

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I have been working to slowly but surely use all the meat in our freezer up before our next Costco run that is coming up soon. I defrosted some ground beef and decided that I’d make bibimbap this week, especially since as I was going through my pantry, I realized I had purchased a Trader Joe’s brand gochuchang sauce. And I really wanted to finally open and use it. The reason I got this gochuchang was that this is the very first gochuchang I’ve ever purchased that did not have either corn syrup or high fructose corn syrup in it. When I used to go down the entire aisle at HMart or other Korean markets, a gochuchang paste that had neither of these corn-based ingredients was simply nonexistent. And I really wanted to use gochuchang, so I felt like I had no choice but to settle on one of these versions, so I’d just pick the one that got the highest ratings. Corn syrup is pretty prevalent in Korean-made products since it’s cheap and gives the gochuchang an attractive, shiny glaze. It also acts as a stabilizer in sauces and processed foods. The Koreans were likely heavily influenced by Americans in using this cheap ingredient, and so it became a thing.

So now when you see modern, new-age independent Korean food companies rolling out new products, you can see immediately that they reject corn syrup/HFCS and proudly state on their label, product, banner, or website that they use real sugar and no corn syrup-type ingredients. You also see these items marked up quite a bit since obviously, real cane sugar is much more expensive than its crappy corn-based substitutes.

Anyway, so I used the gochuang paste in my bibimbap sauce tonight. I mixed it with some sesame oil, sugar, water, roasted sesame seeds, apple cider vinegar, and garlic. Once you combine these simple ingredients together, you get the magic of a gochuchang-based bibimbap sauce. Bibimbap, aka “mixed rice,” is always satisfying because of all the different flavors and textures of the various vegetables and protein, all pulled together with the sweet-savory bibimbap sauce.

I asked Chris what he thought of the bibimbap, and he said it was good, but noted that he thought he might have liked the previous gochuchang-based sauce I made more.

“That’s the one with the corn syrup!” I said. “This is the first bibimbap sauce with a gochuchang that has no HFCS or corn syrup!”

I guess the moral of the story is: Chris likes corn syrup. 🙂

Kaia wrote my name correctly for the first time

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On our Sunday slow day at home two days ago, I spent the afternoon going between playing with Kaia, cooking, and cleaning in the kitchen. She’s gotten a lot more into coloring lately, so she’s been using the princess coloring book I got her from Asheville on the weekends and self-restricting her coloring to one page per day. When she does activities like this where we can’t really do it “together,” she’s been asking me to simply sit there with her and keep her company.

“Sit with me, mama!” she says in her sweet little voice.

It’s been really sweet — for her to just ask me to sit with her and just be with her. It’s also been an exercise for me in truly just being in the moment with her and not preoccupying my mind and body in thinking about or doing something else. When I sat there watching her color on Sunday afternoon, I thought about how the years will go so quickly and soon, she will not want me anywhere near her while she’s sitting doing anything. And while I thought about it, I just smiled at her.

Another activity she wanted to do was to use this digital doodle pad that my friend got her. She loves trading it back and forth with me while we write and draw different things for each other. After I drew several objects she requested, Kaia then said, “I’m going to write your name!” And she started spelling my name out loud, writing each letter very slowly and intentionally. And while she did write very big and run out of room writing from left to right a couple times while using capital letters, when she finally did it, it looked really good! I smiled so hard that my face almost started hurting.

“Pookie, you did it!” I yelled. “Very good, Pookie Pie! I’m so proud of you!”

She beamed at me. “This is Mama!” she shrieked back at me.

Soon, she’ll be writing full sentences, then paragraphs, then even essays. She’s getting bigger and more mature every day. I guess I am getting more “mature” every day, too: I looked down and saw two aging 40-year-old hands. The older she gets, the older I get, too. These are the special moments of witnessing her growth that hopefully will stay with me — even when she’s driving me mad by running like crazy on the street or refusing to hold my hand in big crowds. All these moments feel so fleeting.

The overachieving babysitter

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Tonight, we went out to dinner at a new and impossible-to-get-reservations restaurant with two friends who had a food distributor hook-up. We got the same babysitter who came over the night of my birthday dinner party this year. She is a complete overachiever: she came about fifteen minutes earlier than I asked the last time, and she followed all my instructions to a T. She probably even did more cleaning around my kitchen than I asked her to do the first time around. She especially stands out because of how meticulous and into detail she is, and also because she is so early.

Today, about 15 minutes she was supposed to arrive, this babysitter texted me. When I see a text coming from a babysitter just before they are supposed to arrive, I immediately assume it’s because they are running late and want to give me the head’s up. In this case, it was the total opposite: she wanted to let me know that she would be “late” as in, she would not be able to make it to our house ten minutes early. And she apologized in advance.

This babysitter is amazing. She is so nice, so prompt, so attentive to detail. And the best part is that Kaia truly adores her. She’s the only babysitter who Kaia has actually asked to see again, and demanded that she come back the next weekend. Our other regular babysitter… is regularly late. And she rarely apologizes for being late and rarely gives a head’s up she will be late unless I text her to ask for her ETA. And to make matters worse, she just raised her rate by 20 percent — and at last minute notice just four days before she was supposed to come babysit. So, yes, all of this has definitely left a sour taste in my mouth.

We don’t get a babysitter very often given it’s not cheap — it probably evens out to about once a month (when we’re here), or even less. But this babysitter is definitely on the real favorites list.

Sluggish two days later

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On Friday night when we had dinner and a comedy show with friends, our friends got to the restaurant early enough for Happy Hour, so they ordered a bunch of items off the Happy Hour menu, including two orders of Korean fried chicken that came with two buckets of beer, for a total of ten beers. I figured they would get a single order of fried chicken with the beers, but I didn’t realize they would get two buckets. I had asked my friend to order me a specific Happy Hour cocktail without realizing they got so many beers. And because I hate waste, I felt bad leaving so many beers behind. So I decided that on top of my cocktail, I would have a beer… and then I opened a second beer and probably had a quarter to half of it. During dinner and the show, i felt completely fine. I did not turn red (no, I don’t get Asian glow). I felt sober and clear-headed.

That was until the next morning, when I woke up feeling sluggish in the mind and body. I wasn’t in pain, and I did not have that “hung over” feeling. It wasn’t like I couldn’t think straight, but I definitely did not feel good or refreshed in the slightest bit. I just felt… off. I could still follow conversations, do my usual tasks, and even did some yoga that morning. But “off” is the only word I can use to fully describe how I felt. And if that was not enough, today, which is two days later, I still don’t feel right. It’s like a foggy brain without being fully foggy, if that makes any sense at all. My motivation to do anything productive is extremely low. And given it was threatening to rain and did rain today, we ended up staying indoors all Sunday. I made one dish, and that was it.

I wonder if I would still feel this way if I didn’t actually know I was 40. I feel like because I know I am in my 40s now that I’m feeling more of these “your metabolism is slowing” feelings. As I read, your metabolism doesn’t just fall off a cliff at 40; that’s not really how metabolism works. It slows gradually over your late 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s. Regardless, this wasn’t a great feeling, especially as I’ve actively cut back on alcohol in the new year. And I don’t think I can drink that much anymore — for my mental clarity, but also for my general fitness goals.

Friends for all different reasons

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Last night, Chris and I went out with our two friends for dinner and a comedy show (Jo Koy!) at Radio City Music Hall. We were talking about how I recently came back from my 40th birthday girls trip with two of my best friends, and they asked me how it went. And I answered it the way I’ve been answering it with everyone I’ve talked about it with since coming back.

“I had a lot of fun,” I said. “I loved the cave spa at the hotel. We caught up on a lot of things. But my main takeaway from the trip was that it served as a reminder to me that they’re my childhood friends.”

We have friends that come out of lots of different periods of our lives — growing up through our parents’ friends’ kids, relatives’ friends’ kids, classmates, friends through common interest extracurriculars; then, as you get older, you meet friends at college, through friends of friends, social events you attend, work, and the list goes on. But the friends you make during childhood and may be lucky enough to take into adulthood and beyond — they are your friends because you happened to be together at a certain time and place out of circumstances out of your control. So, in many ways, you were all kind of forced to be together. With that, you carry and share history together, and given this, they become more like your family rather than friends you chose because of aligned values or life perspectives.

In this trio, we fall into the same familiar and oftentimes annoying familial patterns that are almost sibling like. I tend to be the leader, making all travel arrangements and setting up itineraries, restaurant reservations, and coordinating times for what activities happen when. I also tend to be the one who has to push for things to happen… like certain activities at set times given flow of day, or for inane things like trash to be put in the trash bin. A second friend tends to be the “peacemaker” for better or worse: she will actually put the third person’s trash into the garbage can even when it’s not hers because she doesn’t want to “cause trouble,” but then this ends up enabling our third friend, who is a bit of mess. This friend always wants to stay neutral and gets frustrated when opinions are shared that she perceives as too strong — which are likely the vast majority of mine. Oftentimes my opinions are met with a response along the lines of, “Well, everyone is entitled to live where they want to.” Which is obviously true, but I wasn’t really saying my opinion as if it was the only right one, more that this was what I thought…? And our third friend is living life without thinking past tomorrow. She contributed zero to this trip other than paying for her share and showing up; she even admitted to never reviewing my itineraries in detail. It’s a good thing ChatGPT and Perplexity AI did most of the “work” for me. And as noted earlier, she’s sloppy and doesn’t really take responsibility for a lot of the way she is, or her life’s circumstances. I am sure to them, I can seem stubborn, pushy, too opinionated, and too quick to challenge. To a degree to certain personalities, I can see how I am all those things. But the truth is — as I am getting older, I am embracing these qualities even more because I am just getting even more and more comfortable in my own skin, living my life the way I want to.

As I’ve gotten older, I have really enjoyed meeting people who have lived very different lives from me. I ask more questions because I want to know what’s different and what I don’t know. At this point, I really don’t feel a need to meet more people from the Bay Area or people who have had similar life experiences to me unless it’s convenient. And I actually really enjoy it when people challenge my opinions or stances on specific topics. I don’t see it as a put-down or an attack; I actually see it as fun. I think it makes me think more. But not everyone believes this.

I feel very lucky all the time that I’ve maintained friends since age 11. They are like family to me and always will be. But I also feel very, very fortunate and privileged to have made some really great adult friends, even as recently as in the last two years, who have really added more fun, challenge, and perspective to my life. They align with the way I look at the world and the meaning I am trying to get out of my time on earth. And it’s been very refreshing. All friends serve different purposes in our lives, and so that’s why it’s important to have multiple friends to fill our cups in different ways. I am so, so lucky.

Priorities in the ‘hood, according to my 4-year-old

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A school activity this week was to discuss what makes up the school community and the area around it. The kids were asked to name parts they notice and like, and to draw them. One kid mentioned the bank across the street. Another drew the bubble tea shop across the other street. And my Kaia Pookie called out the bakery next door and drew a picture of it.

Chris showed me the photos uploaded to her class site for the activity this week, as he knew I’d be excited to see that Kaia mentioned the bakery first. I immediately started beaming when I saw the photos of the kids’ illustrations and the class topic. But his commentary was not as pleased.

“I would’ve preferred that she did the bank,” Chris said. “Everyone needs money. Money buys the stuff at the bakery.”

“She’s our kid,” I insisted to him. “Of course she’s going to point out the bakery first! She loves bakeries (just like us)!”

“No money, no pastries!” Chris retorted back at me.

I don’t care what Chris says. Yes, his logic is correct that there would, in fact, be no pastries without money. But bakeries make Kaia Pookie happy like they make us happy, and it’s yet another sign that she is most definitely our child — or at least, mine.

Watching me as I leave – a sign of her love for me

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Kaia is in this cute phase as a 4-year-old where sometimes, she gets really sad and cries and screams when I leave. But other times, she really tries to be a “big girl” and be brave and watch me as I leave. She will wait for me at the door and watch me get into the elevator, waving to me, blowing me kisses, and say in a cheerful tone, “Bye bye, mama!” She was not a fan of my going to Raleigh this week, even though it was just for 24 hours. But I think she was less upset because I dropped her off at school that morning before heading to the airport. Whenever she is with her school friends, she is always less sad when I leave.

I’ve loved every stage of Kaia’s development for different reasons. I love that she is very communicative now. At every age she’s ever been, she’s always been very affectionate, cuddly, always wanting hugs and kisses. I feel very lucky that she’s very affectionate and loving. I think about it a lot. And when I think about it, I am happy she is still like this. It makes me feel very loved — loved in a way I never thought I needed. I truly embrace these moments of watching her blow me kisses and waving to me from the door… even if most days, it’s only because I am “leaving” to go down to the gym. These moments are full of love — her love for me, a daughter’s love for her mama. And one day sooner than I’d like, she will likely abandon this level of public affection. So I try to soak it up as much as I can and indulge her with as many cuddles and kisses as possible. She loves me so much, and I love her so much. And that makes the world feel so amazing.

Finding good things everywhere I go

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I get told I am full of shit for this belief a lot: I truly believe that no matter where you go in the world, whether it’s a different neighborhood, town, city, or country, that there is always good food somewhere there. I think of it like I think of people and beauty: there is beauty when you give a place a chance. There are also good, well-meaning people if you give them a chance and take a little time to get to know them. I know every single place I’ve been to has something good or great that I’ve enjoyed.

So, even for places that I have been to that I have very little strong opinion about, I can still feel myself getting protective over them when people I know make sweeping, negative generalizations about them. I was telling my friends this last weekend that I was going to be in Raleigh this week for work. A friend (who has never been to Raleigh) shared that her husband has had to go to Raleigh a few times for work, and she said he was not a fan; he said there was no good food in Raleigh. As someone who has been to Raleigh once and had three very solid meals there last year, I could feel myself getting annoyed.

“Where did he go, and who chose the places?” I asked.

She said some colleagues chose the restaurants and that he didn’t. To be honest, I don’t think I would have had much more faith if he had chosen them.

I told her that I found a really great bakery cafe there that I loved and was planning to go back this week. And today, I made good on my word: I stopped in for an iced latte, a kouign amann, and two caneles to go. Every bite of that kouign amann was perfection: each bite shattered, had this addictive crunchy sugar coating on the outside, and definitely had seemingly millions of flaky, buttery layers. I got one canele for me and one to bring home for Chris. I ate my canele in flight, over 7 hours after I purchased it. It still had a super crunchy outside and a gooey, soft, tender inside, with a strong vanilla bean flavor. Last August, I had a delicious tapas meal with a work friend. That same trip, my colleagues and I hosted a great happy hour event for a prospective customer that had amazing appetizers. And last night, I had a very noteworthy, crunchy banh xeo generously stuffed with lots of shrimp and pork, along with a pork bao and a calamansi spritz. If you do your due diligence and spend the five minutes or less it takes to look up Google Reviews or some AI tool like Claude or ChatGPT, I highly doubt you would fail to find a good restaurant or six in Raleigh.

Sometimes, I wonder why I feel so frustrated when people make negative over-generalizations about places, especially smaller U.S. cities. It’s clear that I do not live in a small U.S. city — quite the opposite! And I think I do know why: it’s almost indicative of how quickly and based on very few interactions people can draw sweeping judgments and harbor negative stereotypes about other people or groups of people. If you want to get to know anyone or any place, you have to come in with an open mind and an open heart. If you already are coming in from a big city and choose to think that everything in said smaller city must be crap, that will inevitably color whatever experiences you have there — and ultimately taint it. And well, that’s your loss, not that place’s, because it means you are not able to enjoy your time spent there. And since none of us is living forever, we should try to do what we can to at least attempt to enjoy every moment we’re so lucky and privileged to live.

An evolving world whether we want to accept it or not

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I am back in North Carolina again today, but in a different city: Raleigh. I’ll be here for just over 24 hours. While here, I had to do something really annoying in preparation for my onsite work event tomorrow: make a stop at a FedEx location that was out in the middle of nowhere in the boondocks of Durham… just to pick up some posters that our marketing team had sent to our customer’s office park campus, but because the courier could not find the correct building, had to send it back to a local FedEx. After I checked into my hotel and went to my room to get some work done, I went out to get a Lyft to take me to FedEx.

My Lyft driver was really friendly and outgoing. He’s in his late 50s and has lived all over the Northeast of the U.S. Funnily enough, he was actually born in what is now Elmhurst Hospital and grew up in Woodside. I told him I was a transplant from San Francisco and actually spent my first four years in New York in Elmhurst. He did not believe me. He also did not believe me when I told him that Woodside is an up and coming area of Queens, and that trendy bakeries, cafes, and restaurants are actually opening there.

“You are lying!” the driver said, laughing hysterically. “There is NO WAY Woodside or Sunnyside is a place to eat out! It was a complete dump when I lived there, and it has to be just as bad today! High crime, gun shots, drugs everywhere — a place to never be seen! I don’t even want my 20-year-old kid going there!”

I challenged him (because I always do this now, and I own it). “Okay, then,” I said to him. “After you finish this ride, I’m serious: go on your phone. Look up the business From Kora on Google Maps and look up the ratings and reviews. It’s one of the top rated bakery/cafes in all of New York City! People travel from all parts of the city, New Jersey, and even Connecticut to line up and eat pastries from there! GO DO IT! Places change and evolve over time. I realize that’s hard for a lot of people to stomach, but no place stays the same forever.”

Mr. Anti Sunnyside/Woodside still didn’t believe me. He still thought I was joking. Then we drove closer to the FedEx where there were signs for downtown Durham. He started telling me about how when he first moved to the Raleigh-Durham area 30 years ago, downtown Durham and Raleigh were “absolutely disgusting.” No one wanted to go there or be seen in those areas. Today, both places have growing businesses and offices flourishing. Both have great restaurant and bar scenes. People from the ‘burbs actually do come in to dine at these restaurants.

The driver hesitated for a bit and realized his double standard in his own speech. “Okay, so maybe Woodside and Sunnyside are experiencing this change that you claim Woodside and Sunnyside are,” he relented. “Fine — I’ll admit that I haven’t been back to that area in over 30 years. I just haven’t had any reason to, and I definitely had no desire based on what I grew up with!”

Nothing stays the same forever — no town, city, state, country, person, dog, anything. We can either evolve with it and go with the flow, or be doomed to stay in our own old, aging fixed mindsets.

Thumbs up, thumbs down

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When Kaia was learning different gestures, including sign language as a baby/toddler, she got most of them pretty quickly. She understood the meaning of them and embraced them. She especially loved signing “more” (isn’t that everyone’s favorite?). But one gesture that she absolutely refused to do for the longest time was “thumbs up.” Every time I tried to get her to do this, she’d shake her head rigorously and yell, “No!” She’d even cover up my thumb(s) and even refuse to see me doing the gesture.

It wasn’t until the last year or so when she finally gave in and started doing it. And when she does it, she especially loves to do a double thumbs up, and then do a “thumb hug,” which means that we tap our thumbs together and then try to wrap our thumbs around each other in a bit of a thumb embrace. For Kaia, “thumbs up” is not complete without this last shared step.

I explained to her at dinner this evening in Chinese that tomorrow, her mama would be leaving again to get on a plane to go to Raleigh. So tomorrow morning, I’d wake up earlier than usual to go work out, then Daddy would get her ready. And I would take her to school, but Daddy would pick her up that late afternoon and have dinner, shower her, read, and put her to bed. I let her know I’d be coming home later that evening.

Every time I tell Kaia multiple things at once, you can tell that she’s processing all the new information and trying to decide how she feels about it. She gives the “side up” look. Then in this instance, she started frowning.

“Hao ba? (Okay?)” I said to her.

Her frown became even more intense.

“No!” she yelled. “Bu hao! (NOT GOOD!)”

Then, as if on cue, she did a double thumbs down, and then motioned to me to match her two thumbs down.

Oh, well. At least she gets how to use thumbs up, thumbs down now!